Friday, December 28, 2007

Friday, December 07, 2007

Pearl Harbor Day

We had our first major snowfall of the season, so I decided to take an evening drive down Red Rock after work.

Just down the waywe have a Vietnamese Buddhist temple in its natural setting: a cold-sage desert.

The buffalo ranch. Unfortunately, the white buffalo blended in a little too well to be photographed today.

Thought for the Day:

I have to wonder, in sixty years, how will we remember 9/11? Certainly the attack on Pearl Harbor was an event that shaped my grandparents lives, and it seemed that have much more of an impact—profound & deep—on their generation than the 11th of September did on mine or my parents. This influence was not just in the scale of the war that followed, but the emotions of that day, over six decades ago, became one of the factors that colored American involvement in the Cold War. There were many who were determined that we would not blunder into another Pearl Harbor during the long standoff. It was a motivation, for good or ill, to face the left side of totalitarianism, and not to fall back into the isolationism that has been the standard for much our history.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Up North

Mt. Hood

On the Volcano's south flank

Mt. Jefferson: Another strato volcano. Steeply and glacially eroded, possibly extinct.

Driving home

Friday, November 16, 2007

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Infusing Tissue with Art

The beam stabbed through glass and water, revealing the floating corpses of fish. These torus-, sphere- and disc-shaped creatures had never swum in any ocean or lake. They were unique forms of life whose engineering and growth had cost Grey a small fortune. Such illicit curios...had been a way of reminding himself of his success, as well as the potentials inherent in merging culture with biology. Grey had maintained that as nature had dictated the shape and content of culture for much of humanity’s existence, it was time to reverse that role, and his infusion of living tissue with art had been a means to this end. Now death had dimmed the artifact fishes’ brilliant, shifting patterns to a static waxy white.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Hardware and Software of Thought

I’ve spent a lot of time pondering ideologies. Mostly I think about the tragedies that have stemmed from these systems of thought. There are practical reasons for this preoccupation: I spent time on the post-famine, intra-Korean border during a year-long tour in the Republic of Korea. Getting ready for Kosovo, I visited the Nazi concentration camp at Buchenwald. I stood on the Zeppelinfeld in Nuremberg and saw where Hitler addressed tens of thousands during the filming of Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will. I spent time wandering in Eastern Europe, looking at the toxic ruins left behind by communism and talking to those who lived through that age. On a warm spring day I took a tour of a gray office complex in eastern Berlin with a beautiful girl, and we stood in the office where the head of the Stasi wrote out verdicts and warrants for execution before the trials that had yet to take place.

Events and aftermaths witnessed in the Balkans were of a different nature: theological and ethnic rather than ideological. Where ideology must often labor to ignite the fires of hate, religion and race are much closer to primal emotion and do not require the same elaborate mechanisms of propaganda to inspire violence.

Those who know me are aware that I am fascinated with the evolution of human thought. I’ve spent who-knows-how-much of the last 11 years reading about how genes create the neurological wetware of the brain that give rise to the mind and then to culture, and how interactions with the environment shape this process at each stage. I am particularly interested in our paradigms and how these world maps have evolved over the course of our species’ time on this earth.

I see four broad families of worldviews in our history:

• The hunter-gather outlook: Bands, tribes, and animism
• The chiefdoms’ worldview: Hierarchies and polytheism
• Monotheism and the early states: World maps of universal truths that span regions and civilizations.
• Secular paradigms

Within the secular family are three distinct sub-groups of worldviews:

• Humanist
• Rationalist
• Romantic

The ideologies that spawned so much horror this last century were creations of Rationalist paradigms. The Terror unleashed after the French revolution of 1789-91 was the first attempt to create a culture and nation-state based on pure reason through the use of force. Its excesses and tragedies foreshadowed the massive brutalities of the 20th century by right- and leftwing schools of thought.

Naturally, there was a backlash against the rise of reason, science, and technology, which took the form of a worldview heavily influenced by Romanticism and its thinkers.

By the time of my childhood, many of this latter paradigm’s premises had reached down into and been reinterpreted by pop culture. The films and books 1970s and 80s featured heroes who were instructed to master arcane fighting systems or mystical techniques by means of intuition. Using the Force, listening to ones heart, or perceiving a beat or breath of the cosmos were supposed to grant access to preternatural powers greater and more humane than the insights offered by cold rationality.

These notions were wrong on several accounts. One of these is that through science and technology, reason gives its users the kind of almost supernatural power over the world that intuition does not deliver. Reason, however, certainly has its dark side. One of the bleaker aspects of this—I feel this most strongly when looking at old ideologies and the underlying assumptions that led to such huge body counts— is that reason and its formalized child,rationality, are new and recent technologies of thought—still in Beta, still bugy, and we are still trying to figure how to best make use of this hardware and software while minimizing their toxic side effects.

Monday, October 29, 2007

On the way to Crescent City




...moss- and fungi-covered...


Crescent City

There is not much to speak of when it comes to the city itself. The town reminds me of older, World War Two Army posts that have slowly morphed and evolved over the intervening decades. About half of this city was destroyed and twelve people killed by a tsunami spawned thousands of miles to the north during the 1964, Alaskan Good Friday earthquake.

The Oregon Coast

Exulation is the going
Of an inland soul to the sea,
Past the houses--past the headlands--
Into deep Eternity--

Bred as we, among the mountains,
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?

-Emily Dickinson

Sweetwater kisses salt, where freshwater meets the sea.

By far the best fish and chips that I have had on this side of the Atlantic. And in a tiny, little-known town of two hundred or so souls.

It took about five minutes for this rapacious gull to turn the living, kicking crab in this photo into a hollow shell. An act of hunger that was cold, mechanistic, and carried out with not the least sign of empathy.

Where the massive Columbia River meets the sea, international shipping waits to switch river pilots for bar pilots, who will guide the vessels across the notoriously treacherous sandy bar into the open ocean.

Crossing a three-mile bridge over the river’s mouth


If eternity is anything like the Oregon Coast, I could happily pass it solitude.

There is something about this volume of space that is the perfect combination of earth, sea, air, and mist. It is the elements made manifest, and the world’s hidden dynamics made visible. Here one can physically see existence's underlying relationships and kinetic realities.