When will we ever learn?*

Many decades ago, when I was in college, a sociology professor teaching one of the courses I took noted that technology changes much faster than the ability of humans to adapt to those changes. It seems to me the times we are living in confirm the validity of that sociological assessment, scaled almost to global dimensions. I also remember, from somewhere or other, encountering the concept of running faster (and faster) to remain in place. Does that feel about right to you?

how vulnerable is our infrastructure?

Photo by J. Harrington

We arrived home yesterday evening after visiting the Daughter Person, Son-In-Law, and Granddaughter, to discover there had been a power outage (the garage door was unresponsive to the remote opener signal) plus our internet service was down. The power had been restored just before we returned home and our internet connection was restored mid-morning today. This all makes me wonder if electric and internet service are so essential to contemporary life, and getting made more so by the powers that be, why they aren’t made more reliable. Both the power and the Frontier phone and DSL have been down a couple of times in the past month or so. All of this reminds me of yet another saying from my younger days: “We have created a world with no one in charge.” If internet service is important enough to be subsidized as infrastructure and for those with limited incomes, why isn’t it important enough to be better regulated by local, state and/or federal government entities?

If child care costs and availability have become essential to support our labor force, why not extend and expand child care services as part of the school systems. Isn’t economy of scale supposed too be one of the benefits of a capitalist-industrial economy? At least so far, I’ve not seen any proposals to outsource child care overseas to take advantage of lower labor rates.

Forgive me (or don’t) for yet another rant. Today is George Orwell’s birthday and, it appears to me, we’ve been busy creating a society that incorporates the worst aspects of both Animal Farm and 1984. Someone seems to have failed to realize both books were intended as fiction, not as operating manuals.

*with apologies to Pete Seeger and Where have all the flowers gone?

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

by Wendell Berry


Original Language English

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

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Better late than....?

Normally, this would have been posted before now, during the afternoon of May 29, 2024 but, as all too often occurs, our internet service provider, frontier, has delivered an outage instead of its usaul less than broadband speeds. The county has had several task forces exploring broadband service, but, as near as l can tell, nothing substantive has come of it. We’re in an exurban area that’s not dense enough development to make service profitable for cable etc.

Frontier has estimated it may take up to 8 hours to restore DSL and our land line phone. These days the land line is only good for scammers and political funding seekers, and our Republican congressman who invites us to virtual town hall meetings.

Our electricity service has been interrupted a couple of times in the past few months, with no forewarning. I believe one of Xcel’s techs cut an old phone line when he installed one of our new “smart” meters. No one bothered to mention the cut line to us as the techs left after their visits.

I believe the smart meters are being installed because our Public Utilities Commission mandated (or “suggested”) it. It’s not at all clear that they’ll benefit us as consumers. But then we live in an age when elected officials and regulatory agencies seem much more sensitive to corporate profits and providing agricultural subsidies than meeting the needs of John and Suzie Q. Citizen. Might that explain why an orange POS like tRUMP has any appeal at all these days? We get a choice of not the lessor of two evils but neither is a proverbial knight in shining armor.

Well, I’ve vented enough steam about today’s frustrations, although I didn’t mention the mosquitos. I’ll copy and paste and post this when, and if?, the string joining our two tin cans gets tied back together.

[Service restored around 8 pm, word has it someone cut a fiber cable.]

Internet Support Group

By Chelsea B. DesAutels

In the shade of a maple tree, on a grassy hill,

            three women laid hands on me.

One saw a cave in my hips. Another felt bricks

            rising from a brook. The last heard a bellow

from deep within the woods. We were strangers

            come together to spend an afternoon

drinking tea & sharing stories of cellular bad luck,

            then suddenly makeshift healers

summoning our mothers' lessons on touch—

            on heat & symmetry, tenderness & release.

From above, we might have looked like sundials

            or spokes on a round knitting loom.

We wanted so badly to believe

            in our ministry we ignored the obvious.

That milk thistle grows here because of stolen land.

            The auspicious arrival of geese is the result of

migratory patterns. Even the static inside our cells

            likely explainable by simple division.

It's embarrassing, sometimes, how far I'll go

            searching for unprecipitated magic,

much I'll trust that pine air cures cancer

            or the hawk overhead is only keeping watch.

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It’s the stupid system, stupid!!!

I’ve been fussing and fuming for the past few hours because I couldn’t get at the part of the Blogger software that lets me create this page. The pages already published were still there, but only visible through a browser. And now, with neither rhyme nor reason, I'm back. This strikes me as one more example of technology becoming more and more embedded in our lives, while growing less secure and/or reliable. But then many of the non-digital services in our lives are becoming less secure and/or reliable. Health systems, especially those for rural and/or females are one example. Police systems are another. Education and media, particularly ads and headlines/leads, appear to be doing a good job of dumbing down the general population. I mean, who needs fact checkers or copy editors these days? We no longer seem focused on whether something is right, only if it’s legal. [The Blogger software disappeared again for hours before I could get this posted.]

where is the bluebird of happiness these days?

Photo by J. Harrington

Have you seen the report(s) that hackers, purportedly from or in China, have infiltrated the software that runs our basic infrastructure systems? Unless you’re a practicing Luddite, you no doubt have been exposed to mis- and disinformation via the internet and/or email etc. Have you received advisories, particularly from a health care provider’s system, that your personal information may have been captured by hackers and your identity may be at risk? Before we get around to more screwing up with artificial intelligence, let’s apply some human intelligence to securing our information and communication systems.

In fact, it seems to me it’s way past time to forego the basic premise of perpetual growth on a finite planet and creating ever richer trillionaires while regular folks starve and live on or in the streets. It’s clear that many more folks need to be reminded of guidance provided by one of our founding fathers:

“The government you elect is the government you deserve.”  ― Thomas Jefferson

Now, in anticipation of Monday’s celebration of Earth Day, here’s today’s poem. If there’s no posting tomorrow, it’s likely due to another Blogger software technical failure. But it is worth every penny I pay for it.

An Earth Song 

Langston Hughes
1901 – 1967

It's an earth song,—
And I've been waiting long for an earth song. 
It's a spring song,—
And I've been waiting long for a spring song. 
    Strong as the shoots of a new plant 
    Strong as the bursting of new buds
    Strong as the coming of the first child from its mother's womb. 
It's an earth song, 
A body song, 
A spring song, 
I have been waiting long for this spring song. 

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A precautionary story

The only newspaper I read regularly these days is The Guardian’s US edition. Sometime in the past day or two, I’ve noticed a sudden increase in stories raising or reflecting concerns about technology and its effects on humanity. Here’s some examples:

• ‘There are no serious safeguards’: can 23andMe be trusted with our DNA?


• ‘Humanity’s remaining timeline? It looks more like five years than 50’: meet the neo-luddites warning of an AI apocalypse


• ‘I write all my poems with a quill by candlelight’: John Cooper Clarke on the joy of life without tech

I’m wondering if this is a brief editorial excursion or if it may become a longer-running feature. You’re probably not surprised to learn I hope the latter. It’s my observation that we are no more responsible with the development and application of technology than we are with our herbicides, pesticides, and politics. Once upon a time there was a policy to the effect that “the polluter pays.” Take a look at water quality in “farm country” and see how well we’ve followed that policy. More? How many abandoned mines are polluting water quality?

“The ultimate test of man's conscience may be his willingness to sacrifice something today
for future generations whose words of thanks will not be heard.” ― Gaylord Nelson

Photo by J. Harrington

Over the past five to ten years, we’ve been notified a couple of times that our personal data has been hacked. Each time the weak link was one of our health service providers. You know, the folks that try to keep us safe by reminding us to wash our hands frequently don’t seem able to protect their information systems and our data from infectious intrusions.

Are you familiar with the precautionary principle? Have you ever considered how much better off we’d be if it had been applied more rigorously to information technology, or mining, or the fossil fuel industry? Isn’t it past time we ceased to enrich a few at the expense of the health and sanity of most of the rest of US?

The Story of Everything

Kealoha 

dad?
yes, my love
where do we come from?

and we come from all of this
this is a story about a time
a time of strange times
what happened during the Big Bang?
what came after our Sun and planets were created?
throughout the first nano nano nano milli centi second of this Universe
that’s when this story takes shape
in the valley of our birth place
and we cried out to the Universe that we were here
that we were here
and we were many
so many
trillions upon trillions upon trillions
so countless and beautiful

every atom of carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and phosphorous that makes up our bodies was forged in stars
and as the world continued to change
we evolved our ways
we honor the ancestors and the elders
we pass on the knowledge from generation to generation

maybe we go cyborg
incorporating technology into our skin, bones, and brains
if we all had biological Bluetooth, USB, or WiFi, 
i could’ve just beamed this presentation to y’all
it’s hard work up here you know

there will be the pulling and pushing of emotions
there will be laughter, and tears, and everything in between

for all the racism and hatred that the color of our skin has produced through the history of
our humanity, and for all the conflict that exists even till this very day
it all comes down to vitamin D

if we held hands for a moment and listened
we could become the power of love
the power of unity
and the power of understanding

we gathered together as a community in peace
we showed the universe how great we could all be
if we just sat and listened to the music

if you happen to be down to help create a global self-sustaining reality,
imagine the impact we could have
because the moment we perfect this
the moment we get this
we all win
together
game on
because energy is the currency of the universe

tonight, I want you to think about your life
and go out there and live it

Hānau ka iʻa hānau ka Naiʻa i ke kai lā holo

this is our chance to write our own history
do we destroy ourselves?
or do we take care of ourselves
and give our species the best chance of making it to the future unscathed?

the time to listen to each other has just begun

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Bridging divides

We’ve reached the time when even the oak leaves are changing color. For the first time this season, snow showers have appeared in the extended forecast for late next week. I’ve not yet got around to starting up the snow blower but my motivation just increased. This afternoon or tomorrow we’ll get fresh gas and go from there.

There’s an article in today’s Daily Yonder that made me feel a smidgen of hope for our future. It’s republished below and followed by today’s poem.

Progressives Hope ‘Rural New Deal’ Will Address Economic Issues and Appeal to Voters

by Janie Ekere, The Daily Yonder
October 18, 2023

Progressive Democrats of America and Rural Urban Bridge Initiative have co-authored a policy paper laying out a set of strategies to revitalize the economy in rural areas through “federal investment in bottom-up solutions.” 

With input from rural leaders and advocates, the Rural New Deal brings together economic policies that are popular with progressives and tailors them to suit the needs of rural communities. 

Democrats have a chance at winning in 2024 if they work to rebuild trust with rural voters, Anthony Flaccavento, director of Rural Urban Bridge Initiative (RUBI), told the Daily Yonder. 

“The federal government is proposing this policy template, but every element needs to be organized such that it's sensitive to the specifics of the regions, that the programs are being applied and that there is local input into how they actually operate at the local level,” Flaccavento said.

The Rural New Deal is made up of 10 overarching economic policy goals, or pillars. These include items such as breaking up corporate monopolies and ensuring livable wages, among others. Each pillar comes with a set of actions that either the federal government or other rural community leaders can take. These range from providing subsidies to small businesses to expanding road and rail infrastructure. 

Additionally, the Rural New Deal focuses on other policy areas like sustainable food production, broadband expansion, affordable housing, public education, and healthcare. It calls for measures such as Medicaid and Medicare expansion, investments in vocational training, and free community college.

The release of the policy document comes at a time when the Democratic Party is becoming less competitive in national races, according to Jeff Bloodworth, a professor of political history at Gannon University in Pennsylvania who studies rural elections. 

He said the Democrats have increasingly focused their electoral strategy on urban areas since the 1960s, while gradually devoting less attention to rural voters. They performed especially poorly in the 2016 and 2020 presidential elections, losing the rural vote to Republicans by more than 20 percentage points in both. 

Progressive candidates like Pennsylvania U.S. Senator John Fetterman and former Maine State Senator Chloe Maxmin won their seats after years of organizing in their states’ rural communities. But Democrats as a whole often don’t run candidates in rural areas, especially at the state and local level, Bloodworth said. 

“Half the state legislative seats in Mississippi, the Democrats don't even run a candidate,” Bloodworth said. “And Mississippi's not an outlier. Democrats were competitive and controlled the state legislature in Mississippi well into the ’90s they just quit trying. They don't show up anymore.”

Alan Minsky, the director of Progressive Democrats of America, and Flaccavento view the Rural New Deal as an important step in building a relationship between progressive candidates and rural communities, both during and beyond elections. But they both see potential issues with its implementation. They anticipate Republican opposition to the Rural New Deal’s calls for increased government investment or decreased privatization, as well as lingering biases against rural voters from Democratic politicians and pundits. 

Urban progressives have assumptions about how rural Americans vote: that they all vote Republican, that they vote against their own interests, or that they simply don’t care about the same things urban progressives care about. Flaccavento said these assumptions can lead Democrats to dismiss the issues that rural Americans face. Republicans, by contrast, are more likely to try to appeal to rural voters, Minsky said.

“The Republican Party has consistently presented itself as the ally of business and therefore it fits in with this notion of being the party that advocates for pulling yourself up by the bootstraps, do hard work, etc,” he said.

Though Republicans have consistently outperformed Democrats among rural voters in recent elections, rural voters themselves – especially young rural voters – have expressed dissatisfaction with how both parties handle economic issues. Minsky, who remembers Ronald Reagan’s elections in 1980 and 1984, saw how unpopular his administration’s economic policies were among rural workers, policies that are still part of the Republican Party’s platform. 

“He really initiated an era of economic policy of not securing and supporting independent businesses and family farmers and allowing the process of corporate monopolization to begin. And then sadly, when you get the Democratic administration coming in ’92, they in no way reverse that,” he said. “In fact, they again acquiesced to the policies for the most part.”

Republicans’ use of “culture war” strategies has also produced mixed results in capturing rural support. In Ohio, a 2013 state constitutional amendment that would have restricted abortion rights failed to attract as much support in rural areas as candidate Donald Trump did in 2020. Similarly, rural Wisconsin voters shifted 5 points to the left in the 2023 election of pro-choice progressive, Janet Protasiewicz, to the state Supreme Court this past April, compared to senatorial and presidential elections. 

Flaccavento said that voters’ responses to these strategies are complex and often informed by their material conditions. 

“Culture war issues are way more effective in dividing us in large part because people feel abandoned economically,” Flaccavento said. “As Democrats begin to really prioritize the needs of everyday people across geography, but especially in rural, … then it's much more likely that those other issues will be like, ‘Well, we don't agree, but that's OK.’”

Bloodworth added that urban progressives need to understand the nuances of rural political attitudes if they want to get support for policies like the Rural New Deal.

“We should not assume that people in rural America are naturally more conservative…Their liberalism, where they are liberals, has a different sensibility,” Bloodworth said. 

This article first appeared on The Daily Yonder and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

 

bridge building in process

Photo by J. Harrington

The Bridge Builder

By Will Allen Dromgoole

An old man going a lone highway,

Came, at the evening cold and gray,

To a chasm vast and deep and wide.

Through which was flowing a sullen tide

The old man crossed in the twilight dim,

The sullen stream had no fear for him;

But he turned when safe on the other side

And built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,

“You are wasting your strength with building here;

Your journey will end with the ending day,

You never again will pass this way;

You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide,

Why build this bridge at evening tide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head;

“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,

“There followed after me to-day

A youth whose feet must pass this way.

This chasm that has been as naught to me

To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be;

He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;

Good friend, I am building this bridge for him!”

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Nutty weather

Where we live, it looks very much like a mast year for acorns. The bur oak has been dropping nuts for a couple of weeks and the other oaks are now joining in, in abundance. The deck and driveway are covered with acorns. That should make many of the neighbors (non-human types) pleased.

With an outside temperature nearing 90℉ this afternoon, it felt strange to have the technician show up to check out our furnace for the upcoming heating season. Now we’re squared away unless we get a power outage like the one yesterday that was triggered by a fire near the power lines a few miles away. Several hours later, power was restored, but that revealed our phone line and internet connection were dead. Some holiday weekends end up being full of all the wrong kind of exciting!

what winter weather will woolly worm forewarn

Photo by J. Harrington

We are definitely looking forward to getting some rain tonight and tomorrow plus cooler temperatures for the foreseeable future. I’ve noticed a few ducks, woodies, I believe, flying over the neighborhood during the past few days. It will be fun watching the gradual assemblage of bigger flocks in anticipation of migration over the next few months. Teal and woodies will head south first. Now that it’s becoming more tolerable to hang around outside for more than a few minutes, I’ll spend time poking around and see who’s up to what. I especially want to see what the woolly worms have to say about the upcoming winter while the best of autumn is still ahead of us.

Blackberry Eating

Galway Kinnell     1927 – 2014

I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths or squinched,
many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackberry-eating in late September.

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It’s time to turn positive

Here’s what’s supposed to be in this week’s community supported agriculture [CSA] share. It’s the last one in the summer series. (Yesterday we noted there have been some timing issues in notifications from our CSA about box content. As of today, we’re done for summer and the autumn shares won’t start for a few weeks.)

• CUCUMBER
• GARLIC
• LETTUCE
• SWEET CORN
• TOMATOES, and
• Peppers

tomatoes (courtesy WEI CSA)

Now that there are no 90+ degree days in the forecast, we’ll get back to sourdough artisan bread (or is it artisan sourdough bread?) baking. This time we’ll add a little kernza flour for a different flavor. I should be back in practice by the time soup and stew season is in full swing.

One week from today marks the beginning of meteorological autumn. As summer ends our wishes are that all bad luck, and bad weather, goes with it. Unfortunately, the seasonal change will bring US deeper into the election season, compounded and complicated by multiple handsful of trials in various federal and state courts. I’m seriously considering hanging a sign on our internet connection. It will say: “CLOSED - gone fishin’, back soon”

At least there is some brighter news these days. The Biden Administration is taking a positive approach with their new ad that makes Americans positively heroes in restoring the economy and responding to climate change. Plus, although I’ve not seen nearly enough coverage in the news media, the administration and the G20 are generating new tools to better account for the benefits of investments in adapting to climate change and other environmental improvements. The White House' Nature-Based Solutions Resource Guide nicely complements the USGS Piloting urban ecosystem accounting for the United States. Both augment the State of Finance for Nature in Cities 2023: Time to Assess - Summary for Local Policymakers. We can, and must, be much wiser about how we invest in infrastructure. Targeting multiple objectives for multi-benefits will give US bigger bangs for our bucks. We know how to do it. It’s time to apply that knowledge as quickly as we can in as many places as we can. Part of those solutions include community gardens that may grow tomatoes.

Ode To Tomatoes by Pablo Neruda

The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhaustible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it's time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth, recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.

A hopeful sign, or two

The election results could have been worse. Mainstream media expected a “red wave.”  Democrats largely held their own and, in Minnesota, made some important gains. Unfortunately, those gains were made in areas other than my own state house district, senate district and congressional district. I’m “represented” by a Republican in each case. The Star Tribune has an interesting, if depressing, election outcome map. (Blue=Democrats; Red=Republican, click link below map to bigify and for full article.)

how Minnesota voted for Governor

The vote for governor shows a strong urban-rural split. That makes it hard to serve “One Minnesota,” but at least the legislature and the executive branches are now controlled by one party. Let’s hope the are no Minnesota DINOs-in-wating like Sinema and Manchin. The Iron Range candidates are no longer serving in the legislature.

Yesterday I came across another small sign of hope. I’m sharing it here because it may be of interest and I think it deserves lots of support. At COP27, the Biden Administration unveiled A Roadmap for Climate Progress, Thriving Nature, Equity, and Prosperity.

The Biden-Harris Administration is committed to maximizing nature-based solutions as critical tools in its toolbox to confront climate change and other major challenges. This report provides a roadmap with five strategic areas of change needed to unleash nature’s full potential: Update Polices; Unlock Funding; Lead with Federal Facilities and Assets; Train the Workforce; and Prioritize Research, Innovation, Knowledge, and Adaptive Learning. This is a starting point, an initial framework for action. The steps we collectively take now to drive the integration of nature-based solutions and make them a priority for investments and infrastructure will, in part, determine the success of our fights against climate change, nature loss, and inequity. We call on you to lead with us in advancing these policies and practices to meaningfully improve the lives of Americans and people around the world.

There are local efforts that can benefit from increased emphasis on nature-based solutions, particularly if Traditional Ecological Knowledge is included. In fact, we can benefit from greater use of traditional knowledge in more than ecological efforts. As N. Scott Momaday reminds us in When The Light of The World Was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through, words have meaning:

Prayer for Words

N. Scott Momaday - 1934-

         My voice restore for me.
                           Navajo
 

Here is the wind bending the reeds westward,
The patchwork of morning on gray moraine:

 

Had I words I could tell of origin,
Of God’s hands bloody with birth at first light,
Of my thin squeals in the heat of his breath,
Of the taste of being, the bitterness,
And scents of camas root and chokecherries.

And, God, if my mute heart expresses me,
I am the rolling thunder and the bursts
Of torrents upon rock, the whispering
Of old leaves, the silence of deep canyons.
I am the rattle of mortality.

I could tell of the splintered sun. I could
Articulate the night sky, had I words.

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Is anyone accountable here?

Yesterday I went on a rant about the lousy utility service we get from Xcel and frontier. Also, there’s no longer a good source I can find for tv antenna repairs. I laid much of the source of the problems on local government, internet service providers and public utility commissions.

Today, again, frontier internet was out for hours. Back on, out again. I may, or may not, be able to post this today. Midafternoon, just after the internet came back on again, the power went out. I’m not sure whether to consider this validation for my rant or karma catching up with me after that rant.

There have been a number of extra-large heavy duty dump trucks going down our road today. The county has a number of construction projects in the area. I’m highly suspicious that someone is not doing a good enough job monitoring construction around power and internet systems.

O Karma, Dharma, Pudding And Pie

By Philip Appleman

O Karma, Dharma, pudding and pie,
gimme a break before I die:
grant me wisdom, will, & wit,
purity, probity, pluck, & grit.
Trustworthy, loyal, helpful, kind,
gimme great abs & a steel-trap mind,
and forgive, Ye Gods, some humble advice—
these little blessings would suffice
to beget an earthly paradise:
make the bad people good—
and the good people nice;
and before our world goes over the brink,
teach the believers how to think.

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Some problems with mass markets

I remember when I was a kid, we weren’t the first family on our block to have a tv. I watched Howdy Doody and similar programs at a neighbors and had to be sure to get home in time for supper. Here we are almost three quarters if a century later and, thanks to “progress,” things haven’t improved much. In fact, in many ways they’re worse. Having no service in many ways  improves on having shoddy service.

Using our less than broadband internet service, I can’t locate a local serviceman to check and/or replace  our Over The Air [OTA} antenna and coax cable. I’m not sure if HDTV would be a better option. Where we live, cable is as much of an option as broadband.

Between our antenna and the broadcast towers, several oak trees west of the house are now taller and broader than they were when we bought the place. Because of oak wilt, ideally we shouldn’t prune until November. I’m not inclined to take some sort of technical course to learn how to select and install an antenna since I’m not likely to need to do it more than once. I’d rather hire someone qualified, if there were anyone.

our internet service

Photo by J. Harrington

We know what a lousy job government has done at insuring availability of rural broadband internet. I know for a fact that our county has been “studying” broadband for about five or more years. To the best of my knowledge, there is no good, reliable, source identifying OTA broadcast availability, nor is there a mandate that cable providers service an entire township by date certain.

Add to the above the fact that our township supervisors have decided to merge most, but not all, of the township with an adjoining city, leaving several sections of the township to be potentially annexed by other cities that, as far as I can tell, will do little, if anything, to benefit current township residents, and combine that with  the failure of our state government to enact critical legislation despite a $9 billion surplus, and the outcomes of the January 6 hearings in D.C., and I’m developing severe doubts about the viability of democracy in a global, neoliberal, mass market economy. Once upon a time we had the TVA and the Rural Electrification Act. These days it seems to be mostly “I’ve got mine. Vote with your feet.”

Rural Reflections

a poem by Adrienne Rich 

This is the grass your feet are planted on.
You paint it orange or you sing it green,
But you have never found
A way to make the grass mean what you mean.

A cloud can be whatever you intend:
Ostrich or leaning tower or staring eye.
But you have never found
A cloud sufficient to express the sky.

Get out there with your splendid expertise;
Raymond who cuts the meadow does not less.
Inhuman nature says:
Inhuman patience is the true success.

Human impatience trips you as you run;
Stand still and you must lie.
It is the grass that cuts the mower down;
It is the cloud that swallows up the sky.

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All Bonus, no Onus? (All the good without work?)

A male Baltimore oriole appeared at the feeder this morning. That seems to confirm our suspicion that they’ve been too busy parenting hatchlings to visit the feeder. As we’re writing this, a female has arrived to help herself to the nectar feeder. We've also been enjoying red-winged blackbirds, rose-breasted grosbeaks, goldfinches, chickadees, nuthatches and an occasional unrecognized bird.

Baltimore oriole at nectar feeder

Photo by J. Harrington

There’s a really pretty cluster of pink phlox plants next to one of the  oak trees behind the house. I would have taken pictures today but my hands were full of the poison ivy killer sprayer. Maybe later, or tomorrow, if the thunderstorms cooperate.

Social media, at least mine, has been full of complaints about Democrats, push back about why Democrats are our only hope, wails that “we voted for them, why won’t they deliver for us?” I’ve been reminded of a story about one of our greatest presidents, FDR. The story supposedly goes:

"You know, Mr. Randolph, I've heard everything you've said tonight, and I couldn't agree with you more. I agree with everything that you've said, including my capacity to be able to right many of these wrongs and to use my power and the bully pulpit. ... But I would ask one thing of you, Mr. Randolph, and that is go out and make me do it."

I don’t think politics should be an avocation or even a time-consuming hobby. I’d rather be fly-fishing. I do, however, believe that far too many of US have taken way too much for granted when it comes to participation in a democracy. It should, I believe, take way more than name recognition to prompt receiving someone's vote. Several years ago I tried to get some background information on a local school board candidate. I couldn’t find a web site or any real information about the candidate’s beliefs, values and approach to education. In fact, that’s true of many candidates, isn’t it? As of 3:30 pm today, our Minnesota senate district supposedly has a DFL endorsed candidate for state senate but her candidacy isn’t listed on the local DFL organization’s web site. That certainly doesn’t help me maintain any enthusiasm for the Democratic party. Our political system, regardless of party, could stand some significant improvements.

Meanwhile, I’m spending time these days raking small rocks out of our front yard grass. Last year the township reinforced the road shoulder with a gravel mix and then last winter the township’s plow scattered many of those rocks out of their ditch easement onto our property beyond the easement. It doesn’t help my mower blades to suck up those rocks when cutting the grass. The township did something similar last year as they were brushing the roadway ditch and ejected much of their wood chip mulch onto our property, in places where we neither needed nor wanted mulch. Even under the best of circumstances, government is too often too much of a pain in the arse. We’re not quite as bad as Russia or Afghanistan yet, but give the fundamentalist right Republicans another election or two and we’ll be able to show the world what a real shithole country looks and acts like.

Democracy

By Dorianne Laux

When you’re cold—November, the streets icy and everyone you pass

homeless, Goodwill coats and Hefty bags torn up to make ponchos—

someone is always at the pay phone, hunched over the receiver

spewing winter’s germs, swollen lipped, face chapped, making the last

tired connection of the day. You keep walking to keep the cold

at bay, too cold to wait for the bus, too depressing the thought

of entering that blue light, the chilled eyes watching you decide

which seat to take: the man with one leg, his crutches bumping

the smudged window glass, the woman with her purse clutched

to her breasts like a dead child, the boy, pimpled, morose, his head

shorn, a swastika carved into the stubble, staring you down.

So you walk into the cold you know: the wind, indifferent blade,

familiar, the gold leaves heaped along the gutters. You have

a home, a house with gas heat, a toilet that flushes. You have

a credit card, cash. You could take a taxi if one would show up.

You can feel it now: why people become Republicans: Get that dog

off the street. Remove that spit and graffiti. Arrest those people huddled

on the steps of the church. If it weren’t for them you could believe in god,

in freedom, the bus would appear and open its doors, the driver dressed

in his tan uniform, pants legs creased, dapper hat: Hello Miss, watch

your step now. But you’re not a Republican. You’re only tired, hungry,

you want out of the cold. So you give up, walk back, step into line behind

the grubby vet who hides a bag of wine under his pea coat, holds out

his grimy 85 cents, takes each step slow as he pleases, releases his coins

into the box and waits as they chink down the chute, stakes out a seat

in the back and eases his body into the stained vinyl to dream

as the chips of shrapnel in his knee warm up and his good leg

flops into the aisle. And you’ll doze off, too, in a while, next to the girl

who can’t sit still, who listens to her Walkman and taps her boots

to a rhythm you can’t hear, but you can see it—when she bops

her head and her hands do a jive in the air—you can feel it

as the bus rolls on, stopping at each red light in a long wheeze,

jerking and idling, rumbling up and lurching off again.

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Do you know how to get to...?

Many of the north-south routes in our neck of the woods are impaired by road construction. Interstate 35 is backed up at least from Stacy south to Highway 97 near the Columbus / Forest Lake boundary. Old Highway 61 has some sort of construction around Stacy and much further south in Hugo. Traffic bailing from I-35 has impacted Forest Lake and jammed the round-a-bouts. If this were Scowhegan, ME, we’d be living the punch line: “Can’t get they-ahh from hee-yahhh!” or something like that.

North Country winters can tear up roads

Photo by J. Harrington

I suspect that I may have blogged previously about our seasonal alternative to North Country winters, road construction season. In all seriousness, I’d like to propose a piece of legislation, if we can ever get the Minnesota Legislature to do something for us citizens instead of just taking care of their corporate donors. For at least the seven county Twin Cities metropolitan area, and, preferably, for the thirteen county standard metropolitan statistical area, we need a road construction coordination czar who can prevent the detours from detouring drivers into yet more road construction. That’s it. That’s all. But it would significantly improve the quality of life for almost half the year and might even save money, let alone tempers and fenders.

To prove that we’re not entirely unreasonable, the coordination would not apply initially to gravel roads, even though the other day we were trapped for a mile or more behind a township road grader doing no more than 5 mph. The driver wouldn’t stop to let us and the vehicles behind us pass so we took our chances at a slightly wider spot where a driveway intersected. Obviously, we succeeded.

The Spring

by Gary Snyder

Beating asphalt into highway potholes
pickup truck we'd loaded
road repair stock shed & yard
a day so hot the asphalt went in soft.
pipe and steel plate tamper
took turns at by hand
then drive the truck rear wheel
a few times back and forth across the fill–
finish it off with bitchmo around the edge.

the foreman said let's get a drink
& drove through the woods and flower fields
shovels clattering in back
into a black grove by a cliff
a rocked in pool
feeding a fern ravine
tin can to drink
numbing the hand and cramping in the gut
surging through the fingers from below
& dark here–
let's get back to the truck
get back on the job.

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It’s about dancing with systems

 One of the nice things about below average temperatures in June is that the bread baking season continues to warm the house and make it smell good. Come late July and August, the heat and humidity diminish the need for taking a chill off and offer a chance the baker may get even more light-headed than usual if he overdoes the amount of baking. Then again, June’s below average temperatures mean the furnace is off and it takes much longer for the dough to rise. During the actual heating season I use the upstairs bathroom, with the door closed, as a proofing room. That doesn’t work worth a damn when there’s no heat or the AC is on.

beardtongue (Penstemon grandiflorus)

Photo by J. Harrington

The beardtongue will be in bloom later today or tomorrow. Then we’ll be “in the pink.” [Couldn’t resist.] Using the dates on photos from other years, those blooms are just about on schedule. Climate scientists have alerted us to the likelihood of greater variability and intensity of storm events. I don’t recall seeing anything about greater variability in seasonal events due to climate weirding. I suspect I may have a better feel for that in a few weeks because I’m now in the midst of doing some stormwater research to see what, if anything, is projected as future “design storms.” In that process, I may well stumble into some descriptions of seasonal variability effects.

I’m not an engineer, but I’ve worked with several. As I understand it, the current “period of record” for stormwater management is 1971 - 2000 for most of Minnesota. I’ll look for updates because I believe that the variability of storms and precipitation patterns have increased over the past few decades. Is it possible to assess if the climate has become a nonlinear, complex, adaptive system displaying emergent properties? Has the climate always been such a system but in a more stable pattern? A University of California, Berkeley, seminar notes:

The environment is a classic complex system, composed of multiple interacting “agents,” or variables, that cause emergent behavior. Applying a complex-systems approach to environmental problems such as climate change, landscape evolution, or societal-ecological sustainability can yield valuable insight into risk, potential drivers of change, likely outcomes of perturbation, and whether it is even possible to forecast or manage the system.

I wish I’d had this kind of insight when I first began working on environmental planning and management. At least I think I do. At the moment I’m trying to sort out, to paraphrase an old saying, if we’re hunting gnats with an elephant gun, or elephants with a gnat gun. The whole question of restoration of an urban trout stream is looking more interesting by the week, day, hour. Stay tuned.

My Debt

Jane Hirshfield - 1953-

Like all
who believe in the senses,
I was an accountant,
copyist,
statistician.

Not registrar,
witness.

Permitted to touch
the leaf of a thistle,
the trembling
work of a spider.

To ponder the Hubble’s recordings.

It did not matter
if I believed in
the party of particle or of wave,
as I carried no weapon.

It did not matter if I believed.

I weighed ashes,
actions, 
cities that glittered like rubies,
on the scales I was given,
calibrated
in units of fear and amazement.

I wrote the word it, the word is.

I entered the debt that is owed to the real.

Forgive,
spine-covered leaf, soft-bodied spider,
octopus lifting
one curious tentacle back toward the hand of the diver
that in such black ink
I set down your flammable colors.

—2018

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Back to our future at 55 mph!

According to our email version of yesterday's The Writer's Almanac,

On this date [Jan 2] in 1974, President Nixon signed a law setting the national speed limit at 55 miles per hour. The Emergency Highway Energy Conservation Act was a response to an oil embargo put in place by the Arab members of OPEC — the Organization for Petroleum Exporting Countries — in protest of the United States' support of Israel....

Today's social media is full of concerns about a possible WWIII resulting from escalation of the recent air strikes agains Iran. We have, for too long now, been told that faster, more aggressive actions are needed to respond to reducing greenhouse gas emissions, particularly those from fossil fuel combustion. Let us be among the first, at least that we're aware of, to suggest bringing back a 55 mile per hour nationwide speed limit as a means of adapting and transitioning to a zero carbon economy.

time to slow down, we're moving too fast?

Photo by J. Harrington

I'm old enough to remember the OPEC oil embargo. In fact, I had my driver's license when it occurred. I remember gas lines. I anticipate the equivalent in the form of charging lines if we hope to use electric vehicles the same way we use today's cars, trucks and SUVs. So, 55 mph worked once, or at least it helped. Which presidential candidate will pick up the gauntlet and propose a return to 55 mph. The future is constantly approaching us at speeds too great for our own good. If we deliberately slow down, we won't be rushing at that future as if it were a desirable head-on collision, or is that collusion these days?

how much horsepower do we really need?

Photo by J. Harrington

Wouldn't it help oil companies to transition away from their stranded assets and diminish their interest in seeking more of what we shouldn't be consuming in the first place? It doesn't depend on automakers agreeing to support more rigorous CAFE standards. It would help make the US more energy independent with little or no investment required. In fact, if we really wanted to do it right, we'd make it 55 mph for combustion-powered vehicles and 70 mph for electrics. That should help boost interest in and purchase of electric vehicles, especially if we get Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts to help finance the charging stations in exchange for exclusive seating rights.

My Invisible Horse and the Speed of Human Decency

Matthew Olzmann

People always tell me, “Don’t put the cart 
before the horse,” which is curious 
because I don’t have a horse. 
Is this some new advancement in public shaming— 
repeatedly drawing one’s attention 
to that which one is currently not, and never 
has been, in possession of? 
If ever, I happen to obtain a Clydesdale, 
then I’ll align, absolutely, it to its proper position 
in relation to the cart, but I can’t 
do that because all I have is the cart.  
One solitary cart—a little grief wagon that goes 
precisely nowhere—along with, apparently, one 
invisible horse, which does not pull, 
does not haul, does not in any fashion 
budge, impel or tow my disaster buggy 
up the hill or down the road. 
I’m not asking for much.  A more tender world 
with less hatred strutting the streets. 
Perhaps a downtick in state-sanctioned violence 
against civilians.  Wind through the trees. 
Water under the bridge. Kindness. 
LOL, says the world. These things take time, says
the Office of Disappointment. Change cannot 
be rushed, says the roundtable of my smartest friends. 
Then, together, they say, The cart! 
They say, The horse! 
They say, Haven’t we told you already? 
So my invisible horse remains 
standing where it previously stood: 
between hotdog stands and hallelujahs, 
between the Nasdaq and the moon’s adumbral visage, 
between the status quo and The Great Filter, 
and I can see that it’s not his fault—being 
invisible and not existing— 
how he’s the product of both my imagination 
and society’s failure of imagination. 
Watch how I press my hand against his translucent flank. 
How I hold two sugar cubes to his hypothetical mouth. 
How I say I want to believe in him, 
speaking softly into his missing ear. 

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Public? Private? Partnerships?

It’s a dreary, snowy day. I’m not sure when this will get posted because there’s an “area network problem” affecting our DSL. Would that we had an option instead of Frontier! Lousy, unreliable service and no credit on the bill for times when there’s no internet connection of speed is half of what it’s supposed to be. [Internet service was returned about 3 pm. It disappeared about 9 am.]

Time to repeat, multiple times, the Serenity Prayer:

G*d, grant me the serenity
to accept things I cannot change
courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference.

It’s that last part that usually trips me up. I hope your day is going better.

This morning, before our internet connection disappeared, I was looking at some analysis on what led to PG&E’s system problems that triggered wide-spread power shut off for multiple counties on the West Coast. That has to be even worse, in some ways, than Xcel Energies’ natural gas supply problems last Winter during the Polar Vortex. I haven’t looked to see what kind of bonuses Xcel executives may have collected during the last year or so.

As far as I can see, we the people have failed miserably in creating a more perfect Union. In fact, unions have become almost nonexistent. We are often pandered to enough that we vote for politicians who are more dedicated to representing the interests of corporations that fund PACs, that fund campaigns, rather than demanding politicians who represent ordinary people. Yes, I am bothered by the campaign rally that occurred yesterday at the Target Center. I fail entirely to understand how anyone who isn’t already collecting grift can support an incompetent buffoon because he manages to “shake things up.”

Gaylord Nelson: "...sacrifice something today for future generations..."

Photo by J. Harrington

The politicians might not be as much of a problem if they would focus on politics, laws and policy and leave bureaucrat regulators to regulate. Several folks have suggested a solution to the PG&E issue of funding dividends and bonuses instead of system maintenance would be to place the grid under public ownership. That’s how we ended up with grossly underfunded infrastructure for roads, airports, public transportation and situations like the lead in the water supply in Flint, MI. We still are missing a long term, safe nuclear waste storage facility. I bet you can come up with your own samples of infrastructure problems attributable to political and/or regulatory mismanagement. What’s the model number of the Boeing jet that’s been grounded for how long because there was inadequate oversight of its design and construction? Our governments have been failing us too often in too many ways.

would more decentralization of power generation help?

Photo by J. Harrington

And now, at a world class scale, governments are failing to adequately respond to the climate we’ve broken. Insufficient emphasis is being given to correcting the problems and adapting to the consequences already occurring. It’s not as if there isn’t already a compendium of solutions (drawdown.org). It’s not as if an obvious place to begin is to STOP SUBSIDIZING FOSSIL FUELS! In 2016 because too many neoliberals stayed home and too many deplorable voted, we ended up with the regime currently wielding a wrecking ball in Washington, D.C.

How is it some governments are trustworthy and others, not so much?

Photo by J. Harrington

Is it becoming clear why I’m hesitant to believe that public ownership and / or management of our electric grid is any kind of solution. As I recall, at one time the internet was entirely under the control of the government, and commercial use was prohibited. Would that, had it continued, have avoided the problems of mis and disinformation that is reported to have affected the 2016 presidential election? We’ll never know.

Several groups of folks are thinking about and working on what they think are better ways for us to try to govern ourselves. We’ll share some thoughts on those efforts in the upcoming days, sort of like early Christmas presents, or, at least, some things to be thankful for. Even with all my gloom and doom, parts of what’s left of our world are still beautiful and it’s not hopeless just yet.

2008, XII

Wendell Berry - 1934-

My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge…
Hosea 4:6

We forget the land we stand on
and live from. We set ourselves
free in an economy founded
on nothing, on greed verified
by fantasy, on which we entirely
depend.  We depend on fire
that consumes the world without
lighting it.  To this dark blaze
driving the inert metal
of our most high desire
we offer our land as fuel,
thus offering ourselves at last
to be burned. This is our riddle
to which the answer is a life
that none of us has lived.

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