Dreams

There are essentially two kinds of dreams. 

The first arrives when we are sleeping. It is often realistic, fantastic, and strange. It’s made up, apparently, of odd bits and pieces of memory, neurons firing chaotically, for all we know influences from an alternate reality as well. Unlike “primitives”, we sophisticated folks dismiss it out of hand (possibly wrongly) as nonsense at worst, entertainment, or possible diagnosis and inspiration from the subconscious. 

The other case is “waking” dreams, when we construct grandiose plans. Imagination provides a more or less possible future filled with wonders, wealth, influence, whatever our hearts currently desire and of which we feel deprived. 

Lately I’ve been very fortunate. My sleep dreams are pleasant and resemble old romantic comedies. My waking dreams tend to be quite congruent with my actual life. It’s a terrific state of being. 

Of course, that does promote laziness. I’m afraid of little, I don’t want more. Ambition is limited to enjoying daily life and appreciating each moment. I’ve become a drone. However, not too much of a guilty drone. I’ve done most of what I wanted to do, accomplished some goals that once seemed impossible, and can still enjoy the nostalgic remembrances of having done so. 

I suppose that means both kinds of dreams are happily safe for a while. 

Sports Government

Forget ancient authors, theories, history. Boring. Nobody cares nor has the time to know. What Americans KNOW is sports. Especially professional sports. Put government rules and explanations in the form of sports and everyone would be happier. 

The federal government is the league, the states and corporations are the teams, the workers are the players, the citizens are the spectators. The talking heads remain as commentators. And, of course, the judges are the refs. Instant replay for laws!

Put in such terms, the first requirement for players is always a strong union. Protect and keep the players well paid and safe, which, we are all beginning to agree, is what most workers in the new AI economy need most. 

How spectators pay for it all is always an issue. So I suppose society becomes like parents, citizens are its “children” and money appears adequately and kind of by magic, rationed a little.

Maybe we all must now truly become as little children. Or, in alternate reference, accept mana from heaven. 

Not hard, the owners are already present. Oligarchs as there were in Rome. Let them vie for glory! An impossible dream …

Or – wait are we already there? 

Mad King Ludwig

Some rulers such as Caligula or Vlad the Impaler are known for their cruelty. Some such as Hitler are remembered as evil. Others such as Louis XIV marked spendthrifts. And then there is mad King Ludwig of Bavaria. 

His fantasy castle is famously the prototype of Disneyland palaces. His fairy tale caricature is as a vain, extravagant, impulsive, out of control sybarite. He did not so much ruin his country as ignore its true needs to pursue his own odd selfish ends. 

Naming no names, America now has its own mad King Ludwig. His court is composed of spineless couriers, who desperately fear that if they fail to please him they will be dismissed into outer darkness. Most of them to remain unemployable or harassed by the law for the rest of their lives. 

The king is fickle. Each day or night brings forth a few new massive directives, often contradictory, often reversed or ignored in a few days. Subjects ignore or laugh at them to their extreme peril. The king cackles into the darkness.

Unlike the old mad king, this one is quite vindictive and easily angered. Perhaps the new castles abuilding will be magnificent, attracting tourists; models for future theme parks. Or the plaster may all crumble away in time and rain, like most of the other directives. 

Nevertheless, it’s surely very entertaining, especially if you are far enough away from the action. 

Rochester NY

Rochester, NY

We just returned from a week-long excursion to Rochester. Our son and his wife recently purchased a small, solid home built before 1900, in “Swillberg”, a city neighborhood once covered by an extensive farm exporting pork via the Erie Canal. 

We visited fairly often since 2000 or so. I’ve always liked Western New York, possibly because of my fascination with American history. There is a lot in the region – Seneca Indians, Dutch colonization, the Erie canal, boom and bust, the heyday of “rust belt”, giants Kodak, Xerox, Bosch and Lomb, all long gone. Current industrial revival based on education, medicine, science, and technology. 

Parts of the city are still in hard times but much is well maintained and recovering well, the near suburbs are thriving. I enjoy small city ambience, which I consider “true America” as much as small town culture. Rural mythology is dead – food is mostly produced by automation and industrial giants. Big cities are a weird global culture unto themselves. 

But places like Rochester are deep America to the core. So much history. Much of it built long ago, layers of prosperity and decline. Parks and sidewalks. The Genesee River and its magnificent falls. And – yes – still the Erie canal. I’m always contented and happy after I’ve refreshed memories there. 

Once again, by the way, I noticed during the (extremely) long drive up from Long Island just how vast and green the state is, almost more wilderness than cultivation. Magnificent and hopeful spaces. 

Corporate Raptors

Mammals generally fall into three categories. Herbivores eat relatively specialized plant diets.. Carnivores eat only meat, which they either find or kill. Omnivores like us can get along on just about anything. Lifestyles vary. In a working ecology, a lot of herbivores, like deer, support a few carnivores, like wolves. The predators keep down the damage caused by overpopulation, while also removing the sick and the old. A useful function. On the other hand, too many wolves can make some of them starve.  Omnivores generally stay out of the way, unless forced into food or fight situations. 

The corporate ecology is not so different. A lot of companies graze on the economy producing value. A few omnivores collect groups of them into larger entities. And the wolf pack takes over stocks, privatized for “increased profit” and usually destroys its prey after gorging. Ah, “creative destruction”. 

Obviously, too many wolves will eliminate too many deer, sometimes eliminating both species and certainly ruining life for individual animals of either type. 

Right now, it seems there are way too many corporate wolves, tearing apart our civilization. “Iinvestors” who seek only quick returns, buy gentle useful things like hospitals, daycare facilities, farms, and schools to suck them dry in hopes of never having to work another day in their lives. Everyone suffers sooner or later. 

Jurassic raptors have nothing on SPACS and stock swap kings. The government electric fences are down, and the park is wide open for carnage. 

Holy Writ

Fundamentally, I believe most people are just like me – pretty smart and dumb at the same time. In general, I think small groups of people construct sane outlooks most of the time. There are exceptions. A few people are brilliant in certain areas, a few groups turn into insane cults. 

I do not accept that gods directly write anything. All words are formed by other humans. And so I have a skeptical opinion of anything taken as “holy writ”, immutable and perfect from the moment marks are made on a surface. 

No need to get directly into religion. What I most detest at the present moment is the “conservative originalist” interpretation of the US Constitution as not only inviolate and perfect, but also the result of a brilliant gathering of minds whose choices can never be questioned nor seriously modified. 

The problems go beyond the obvious – that some of it may be wrong or have become irrelevant. Anything stiffly frozen is in some ways fragile, and in others just an obstacle to be destroyed. And there is a nearly nonsensical position taken by some specialists that they alone can determine what the folks who wrote it were “really” thinking and what they “really” meant. 

It is simple madness, usually twisted to make words seem to say or mean exactly what interpreters and their cronies have decided. Sad times for our country.