Hot Shower

This morning I pulled myself from my comfortable clean insect-free bed. Heated instant coffee in a microwave, drank it gratefully in a soft chair as I watched birds fly against a blue sky behind budding maple branches. Wrote in a journal with a ball-point pen, checked news on the internet. Woke up with a hot shower, shave, brushing teeth. Put on warm clothes, brought in the emptied trash cans and newspaper … and on and on .

Every one of these things would seem miraculous to most humans living over a hundred years ago. Many are still unavailable to many people today. All taken for granted by me .

Electricity! Water! Safety! But you can complete the endless list without help.

A sad note is that we rarely notice how wonderful all this is. From the top down, everyone loves to complain. Our leaders scream that we live in a hell hole surrounded by horrible aliens. Neighbors worry that their house is too old and small, their yards too filled with dust, perhaps their children less than perfect. Ignore the wonderful, concentrate on whatever bothers us (this moment).

I’ve always been a little too complacent and content, more so now that I am elder and retired. I’m amazed that the sun rises, electricity works, and that I am so much alive. And that hot morning shower remains a treat worthy of gods – which in some ways we are .

Future Jobs

Imagine for a moment that civilization survives its many current existential crises. Automation and artificial intelligence would surely fulfill their promise and do all the unpleasant and necessary jobs. In fact, the very idea of having a “job” would vanish .

Of course, that also requires that we imagine a world of plenty, where machines equitably provide endless bounty for everyone. But suppose that happens. What remains? Traditional moralists, naturally, claim that with no “jobs” people lose purpose and degenerate. Those very moralists often emerge from an elite strata of wealth that abhors the idea of “job”. Aristocrats find purpose in many things – social games, hobbies, whatever .

I imagine such a future would be filled with nothing but aristocrats, good and bad, who resemble the aristocrats of old without requiring servants or peasants to support their needs .

Others might claim there are two equally likely outcomes. One is a new society that resembles European explorers’ vision of South Sea Island Paradise, where everyone is happy and lazy and all needs are supplied by nature. The other is the garden of Eden, where all is peaceful and wonderful as long as you don’t anger the AI running the show .

Ah, but that’s all just imagination of the destination. Getting there – or wherever – is going to be a lot more interesting, and maybe unpleasant as well .

Bavarian Daffodils

Once again daffodils are blooming in Huntington. As I am sure they did in the spring of 1938 in England and Bavaria. No doubt folks as old as I am tottered out of their cabins and admired the sight, dreaming of warmth and summer gardens .

There is, of course, always trouble in an unknown future. People mostly stay sane by ignoring the possibilities and concentrating on the exact day in the immediate neighborhood. Events just move along and we deal with them as best we can when and if they impact us .

I imagine that like today some people had strong resentments based on old horrors and current difficulties. Some yelled loudly. Some hoped things would work out. Few 78-year-olds thought they had much say in how the world was run .

The daffodils bloomed again a few years later, in spite of bombs and tanks. But life had changed drastically for most of the old folks who gazed at them fondly in that final spring of relative calm .

Well, I also go out and admire the daffodils. I touch the internet gingerly. I’m afraid I strenuously avoid thinking about possible futures .

It is not a good time to dream of what may come. Anyway for now, after the daffodils, surely the roses .

Relaxed Art

Off and on through the years, I have sketched and painted seriously. As many people have discovered, art (or serious craft) can be magical. There is a wonderful sense of accomplishment and a re-enchantment with the world .

Decoration has served many purposes throughout the ages, and I am not one to judge degrees of worth. These days of abundance surround us with inexpensive beautiful artifacts, often in limitless quantities, turned out by machines. A miracle in itself, also enriching our lives .

Now Joan and I participate in an art group, and I have reason to contemplate what I am doing, why I want to do it, where I want to take it. I’ve always tended to be hasty and immersive – I like to totally “lose myself” in what I am doing for as long as necessary. I rarely linger over detailed cleanup after the trance fades .

I cultivate the exploitation of my enthusiasm, my limitations, my ambitions, my competence. I do not try to outdo the machines. I find little joy in reproducing machine work. I don’t like working off photographs – too much detail, two little focus, and often artificial viewpoint .

Creating as a child. Others have their own ways and their own valuations. We all are expanded by doing something active .

Old Mr. Gibbon

I’ve just finished volume three of Gibbon’s Decline and fall of the Roman empire. I know I probably skimmed through it many years ago, when I purchased the full modern library edition. But his story is far from the “gladiator” cliches .

Consider the examination of human nature. Gibbon considered the Roman empire to have functioned continuously until the final fall of Constantinople to the Turks in 1453. He reviewed extensive documentation regarding the follies of ruler and ruled, wise men and fools, passions of the day, and the odd beliefs that motivate people to good, evil, or simple daily life .

Lately, I’ve become enamored with historians like Gibbon. They were not so focused on comparisons to today as our current writers. They could be very intellectual, assuming a certain degree of decent education for their readers (which, alas, current writers cannot.) And they were unafraid in calling things as they saw them (although Gibbon did have to be obscure about sex and coy about Christianity) .

All that makes for a deep, provocative, powerful read. I took my time this time through. Much more engrossing than modern digital melodramas. Made me appreciate my own life and times all the more .

A grand subject, to be sure. An obsessive historian, sometimes tedious and confusing (all those names! Dates! Events!) But now, what a fine thing to rediscover .

Deregulation

Laws and regulations are both necessary and infuriating. It all depends. We imagine they have been around in one form or another forever – sometimes as traditions or taboos, sometimes merely as the whims of the strongest ruler or group. It is impossible to imagine a society without them .

And that is really the key to the problem. Because with social tribes, we imagine things to be more fluid. “Let me do what I want or I’ll go somewhere else!” We believe that as civilization takes hold, every individual becomes encrusted with responsibilities and prohibitions until he or she cannot breathe. “What is not mandated is forbidden .”

We further imagine the frontier as freedom. Cities are confining. Run away to open space, where each can do as each desires. There may be some truth in that, but people are complex. For some reason, throughout history, folks often ran away from rural pastures and small farms to the great cities .

The advantage, of course, has been anonymity. In a city you feel free because the mobs (usually) don’t know you. In spite of those pesky regulations on everyone .

Regulations do tend to hinder innovation and progress. Keeping them “under control” or focused on “common sense” is difficult. Yet cities usually manage to work it out .

It’s when the rural yokels with little experience take charge and get rid of regulations that things really fall apart .

Fire, Flood, Drought

“Everyone complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” In this era of massive technology, scientific hubris claims we can . Geo engineering concepts abound, from seeding the oceans, to sulfuric acid clouds and/or reducing certain gas emissions .

So far, it does seem the climate is more extreme. Bigger storms, major variations in “normal patterns.” Pretty clearly this is not simply “better weather reporting”. But equally, it is not immediately disastrous to everyone, nor an existential survival threat .

It may be humanity can change things. If not, some small fragment of our bloated numbers could probably survive anything. Famine and catastrophe first, of course .

But what does it mean to me and you? Obviously most of us should avoid building or living in river valleys or on sandy barrier Islands, among other adjustments. But personal changes are largely symbolic, especially if they are not normalized for everyone.

Brushing my teeth more quickly or dashing in the shower do nothing unless everyone is forced to do so. Also what kind of car I drive or what I eat. Giant problems, unfortunately, require giant solutions. Feeling virtuous about my CO2 footprint is like feeling lucky when I throw a coin down a wishing well .

In the meantime, I better fix my leaky roof.

Digital Dizzy

Digital technology surrounds us, and becomes more immersive by the day. As a person who had a (relatively) happy career programming computers in the good old days (ie until 2010 or so), I should enjoy the advances.

Besides it’s silly to rant against so useful a tool. Might as well claim walking is better than one of those newfangled wheeled contraptions, memory is ruined by written words, or the pride of John Henry is lost to steam machinery. Digital aids are very useful .

I guess my main concern – outside of how radically they are changing society – is their fragile nature. An awful lot of things can make them fail in minor or catastrophic ways.

“Oh come on!” you yell – organic stuff, including especially people, fails all the time. Makes mistakes, dies. That is quite true .

The difference is that life is based on dealing with the unexpected. Organisms have embedded feedback and repair systems that work remarkably well. Adjustments to changing environments usually happen. Life seems almost impossible to create from scratch, but once started it is very hard to stop. Even people are tougher than we usually think .

But digital technology? Especially remote centralized AI? I wonder if it is too much, too soon, and all eggs in one fragile, dizzy basket .

Art Owner

As a would-be visual artist, I was always annoyed that once a painting was sold nothing remained to the creator. Music and film had “residuals”, books had copyrights. But once a painting was sold (or traded for a meal) the new owner had any right to its future earnings – even if it sold next year for millions of dollars .

Digital copying has evened that out, of course. Very little remains to most originators. Truthfully, even at its peak, most of the people helping the prime creator – backup musicians, studio assistance, even gallery owners – never reaped a future windfall .

Now the art market is entirely strange, where a banana taped to a wall can sell for 3 million. Some of this is simply potlatch behavior from the filthy rich “look what I can do”. Mostly, though, in certain areas – again among the wealthy – it is simply that demand is high everywhere, but supply of most tangible things is vast_ even gold and diamonds once precious. So anything in limited supply – actual painting from a known artist, Bitcoin, ancient automobiles – skyrockets in value .

Why? Mostly so those people can taunt each other with calls of “I have it and you can’t!”

Fortunately, for most artists, creation is its own reward. As, indeed, it must be .

Mercenary “Warriors”

It’s a truism that the military always prepares for the last war. A new element is that our current leaders want to prepare for war as depicted in movies and video games. Manly men who can savagely destroy all opposition with increasingly massive personal weaponry .

Of course we’re not quite sure what the “last war” was for the US, but we didn’t seem to win it. On the other hand, the Ukraine conflict seems to prove that any tween in her city bedroom can wipe out a squad of bazooka toting cowboys with a remote drone strike .

And if a “real war” starts, both the cowboys and tween are one nuclear blast – delivered hypersonically – away from oblivion .

But manly men want jobs and the military life seems to fit a certain psychology. The problem is that building an elite group of well-paid volunteers (aka mercenaries) who follow politics – which seems to be the current goal of the administration – will surely lead _ as it always does (witness the Praetorians, Mamalukes, Janissaries) _ to that cadre getting rid of leaders they don’t like (i.e who don’t pay them enough .)

Obviously, I am hardly a fan of manly men syndrome. But personal squeamishness aside, I just think the idea is ineffective, historically inaccurate, stupid, and based on adolescent male fantasies .