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I will start this blog by admitting the audacity of calling this particular country America. We have a lot of countries attached to this shared continent, so there’s that. However, the focus of the blog is to reflect on the fact that there are several versions of America within the United States. America is a flag and a banner and a tax system and, perhaps, a language. We share a number of laws and very few values save for the exceptionalism that tells us that we are HNIC (head nation in charge) and what happens outside our borders that we feel is wrong ought to be corrected and what happens inside our borders is none of your damn business.

I grew up in NYC, which is a wholly different place than Montana, which is a wholly different place than Tennessee. There are threads of sameness that connect all three, but the differences in both who the people are, how we live life, and what holds value are different. I may be talking about extreme differences–regional differences–but if culture is defined by place, language, and values then my examples show that we are all Americans and none of us are. The beauty of this nation is that we represent a catch all category. Outside of the Brietbart/Fox News world of color-based supremacy, the ideal American is not pictured by what they look like but what they think. That pervading image of thought is that of freedom.

At least it should be.

I think that it still is, but I think the idea of what freedom actually is has shifted and continues to shift dramatically. So sayeth the country founded on freedom and the broken backs of slaves.

At this time in our nation I believe, finally, that Donald Trump is the best person to run the country. He is reflective of the values we have come to adopt and the attitude we project as a nation. Perhaps we ought to stop complaining that he won and start recognizing that he won because of what we have become, and in part have always been.

The girl said, “I’ve never been anywhere except Colorado, California, and Arizona.” She through up her hands in exasperation. I didn’t know what to say, thinking that her seeing three states was more than so many less privileged people had ever done. I thought about the homeless veterans I saw on the corner outside of Walmart and the families who I knew only by name or initial on the side of a christmas donation box. I thought about what I have and what I have done in my life and what is to come and I felt sad.

I am reminded of my privilege more and more as I am reminded of how little the people I teach realize their own. I am schooling a generation of people who have little sense of their own position but every sense of what they perceive to be their worth and their station and, above all else, what they deserve.

There is more to come on this topic. I just need to sort of the thoughts for myself.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. I keep getting the same subjects over and again. It changes year to year but these subjects pop up in every class, though the students are different ages and academic levels. I give students the option to choose their own topics, so it isn’t as if I am determining these choices myself.
2. Rest In Peace, Eddie Zuleger. My former colleague was murdered last night in his home by his own son. The story continues to develop, but I don’t want to remember him by his death. I want to remember him as a wonderful teacher and a father who looked out for his family above all else–even up to the last breath.
3. Gonna play some flag football this Sunday. Hope I don’t die from being so damn out of shape.

Why do we in the modern world tend to believe in one God vs. Many? Imagine, if you will, that Gods represent the psychological embodiment of human desire. We are creatures of craving and when we cannot have what we want we look towards something that embodies what we want. In centuries past we split those desires amongst a pantheon, giving a name to each embodiment of desire. This was a practical maneuver, allowing individuals to focus on their desires in a limited manner. This allowed for differentiation and created a culture that allowed individuality to focus.

Modern times are built on the back of the Crusades and on the death of polytheistic beliefs. Where there were many Gods there remains only one, the ‘last man standing’ in an ocean of twinkling stars. I posit that our creativity and individuality is, in a sense, muted by monotheism.

Of course, we are not only muted by the lock-step locked down belief systems that dominate the modern world, but by access to a ton of media that only serves to further our natural confirmation bias. We find the news that confirms what we think we know, just like we know the one God is absolutely for us and about us and always on our side.

Read the signs, I bet they’ll tell you I am right on this one.

Tough time getting this to post today. The site has been up and down and possibly even hacked. Yeah, I get the irony of a guy who writes about post-modern hacker culture getting hacked himself. Perhaps it is a version of street cred… or bot cred as the culprit is more likely automated than directed by human hand. We are moving into a time period where hacking is going to be on the uptick. Moreover, glitches are going to become more and more responsible for accidents on a global scale. The more complicated a system is, the more likely that system is to encounter a glitch that is not easily detected and less easily repaired.

I think about traffic systems and automated passenger conveyances, even linked elevators and escalators. I wonder if there are a few angry hackers who want to take a shot at the new president–gangam style. More importantly, I wonder if the electronic systems regulating solar power distribution have the security not to get hacked. A lot of money floating around for solar, but if you cannot protect yourself from the hackers then the battle is lost. They can siphon your energy or your payback plan, leaving you feeling vulnerable.

The future is coming. I’m excited and a little bit intimidated.

Some Thoughts:

1. I’ve been dreaming about my childhood. It isn’t always my childhood. A few times  week the childhood doesn’t belong to me, to my memories of this life. It leaves me to wonder how much of that past life stuff has validity and what possible way science can bring reason to bear on understanding such a possibility.
2. 67 degrees indoors in AZ. Merry Xmas.

 

I have become enamored with the term diaspora. It appears in essence, if not structure, in most of my writing as of late. In my fantasy I speak of races–not unlike the Elven and Dwarven races of Tolkien lore–who have lost their ancestral holding and are scattered about seeking some friendly shore; some place that permits their culture to flourish without fear of losing itself to that alien fabric. I suppose this comes wholesale with living in Phoenix, AZ where, at the time of my own committal,  the majority of people I encountered were also not from here.

I find that more Californians, New Yorkers, Iowans, and those from foreign lands such as Canada or Mexico live in AZ than people born here. This is the truth of all retirement driven state economies (See: Florida) but it does reflect that sense of diaspora and a sense of a melting pot culture struggling to define itself by a primary flavor.

As a dominant culture or cultural group fights to emerge in this new American diaspora we are left to hunt through the fog of cultural identity, leaning on the definitions crafted for us by others as even now we fail to identify ourselves.

That is what I’ve been –not– writing about. I believe 10 minutes is a good chunk of time to put some of this on paper and allow the logjam in my mind to clear sufficiently to let the good writing through.

Some Thoughts:

1. Rest In Peace, Joe McKnight. The former NY Jet was killed in a road rage incident. His killer, Ronald Gasser, was arrested 10 years ago for a road rage incident in the same spot where he beat a driver senseless for a perceived slight. Gasser was charged and sentenced in that past issue. For murdering McKnight he was let walk free. Make of it what you will.

I ought to title this one Life Without Sports. Seriously, when we were involved in constant sports there was not a Saturday that was not teeming with games and running around the state trying to deliver or collect various kids. Watching a friend at the front end of that drama (his one kid is playing three sports right now) reminds me that I need to temper that sports love with a bit of common sense.

In lieu of sports we are watching the last of Full Metal Alchemist as part of our second straight ‘sleepover’. We gathered a ton of mattresses on the living room floor and just binged. Last night’s binge was on Minecraft and tonight its more watching than playing.

As the battery for the laptop ticks down to zero I’m watching the tiniest Talislegger pout and mope and drag his feet around looking for something significantly exciting to keep him conscious. He doesn’t want to crash and I don’t want him to either. I’m enjoying these moments of just being a dad and soaking up the joy and crazy of childhood. Truth be told, I had maybe a dozen of really great nights like this with friends. Without brothers and sisters I didn’t get to enjoy things in this fashion. I had my words and my toys and those were great. This is different. This is family.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. The Shadow Children series might be closer to real life than originally suspected.
2. Paolo Bacigalupi will be at ASU’s Desert Nights, Rising Stars conference. Dope.

I came to the Gilmore Girls late in life, consuming it through Netflix with unexpected glee. When Netflix recognized that I was one of a million plus viewers it decided to reward us by bringing a close to the storyline. The original cast and writers returned to grace us with a four-part mini series meant to finally close the door on what has come to be ranked among my favorite shows of all time. It was entirely worth the wait and the watch, triggering feelings that surprised me.

From the opening scene the show drenches you in a sense of familiarity and family. Rory is coming home and you get to feel like this is a real home and not a set made for TV. The people seem to genuinely care for each other and the main characters belong to that place. That sense of belonging me has long eluded me in my own life, so it warmed my heart to see it carried out so well in the drama.

That feeling of home and family and the things we do in our tiny worlds pervaded the four episodes, mingling with the growth and change of each of the Gilmores and their loved ones. Though everything changes, they are still a part of Stars Hollow and still, inherently, the people we came to love through their ups and downs and seven seasons of drama.

The Giants are doing their thing! I’m feeling pretty good about the chances of the Giants v. Cowboys game mattering a whole lot. This part of the season these games seem to all matter. Here are a few that definitely do matter:

Cowboys over Vikings
Zimmer is likely to have surgery and miss the game, leaving an already suspect staff to run the show. Given the way those Cowboys are playing, there is little hope for the Vikes. I still hope they win, because the Giants could really use it.

LA over NE
Trap game! I see this ending well for Gurley.

KC over ATL
BAL over MIA
SF over CHI
CIN over PHI
DEN over JAX
NO over DET
BUF over OAK
NY over PIT
GB over HOU
GB is primed to make a run and I am primed to run out of time because it took me quite a bit to get going on this one.

When I was married, one of the things my ex and I went back and forth about was the amount of work I brought home. To make matters worse, I wasn’t bringing home work I was getting a monthly paycheck for or at times getting paid at all for. I brought home writing work. I allocated time that could’ve been spent with her and the kids on stories that may or may never see the light of publication. Clearly I was not spending my time in a fashion that made a lot of sense to her.

She isn’t a writer. If I’m being totally honest I held that lack of understanding against her. As opposed to encouraging the work she tolerated it the way my mother once tolerated the work and it made me feel like I might be using my time in the wrong way. I felt more and more that way the less and less work I published.

In retrospect I forgive her and recognize that I expected far too much from her. People who don’t write or draw or hold that solitary creative endeavor rarely understand those who do. Once you find a person who does it triggers a deeper appreciation for that person and the craft itself, because you are joined in a rare collective of creators.

I am slowly falling back into the writer’s life. I am absolving myself of much of the guilt that accompanied writing and thus reaching back towards a place where I write for more than just immediate profit.

With all the hype and media coverage about the Trump presidency I’ve retreated from the political world, circling back into the sports world. It isn’t the best use of my time and energy, but it allows me to engage in a situation where there remains some modicum of hope.

Sports allow individuals a measurable and finite opportunity to express difference at the level of engagements and stakes as they so choose. The more invested we become in the sports, the less control we have over our level of engagement. The key difference between this and, say, politics is that sports are essentially low stakes. Even in Europe where soccer stadium deaths happen yearly, the level of the stakes remain comparatively low. See, if Manchester City or the NY Giants lose a game I’ll feel bad for a minute. If a team like the Jets continuously squanders opportunities they’ll get a shot at a top drat pick next year and likely free up a lot of capital to grab some other pieces to the puzzle.

If Trump shits the bed then we are all in trouble for longer than the four years he is going to be in office. Sadly, the formula to mess up Trump’s game was just broadcast recently by the Daily Show. It isn’t a terribly secret formula: Bomb a Trump hotel abroad and he’s gonna retaliate.

So that is what high stakes look like…