Water is of the most fundamental items in the functioning of the entire biosphere.
Integrity and respect for the law is of the most fundamental level of the functioning of a government.
QotD:
“All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers.” – François Fénelon
“I can see that it’s much easier to say ‘porn did this to me, or that’ but at the end of the day, we are all responsible for the choices we make. I chose to be a porn star. Now I’m choosing not to be. It’s the beautifully terrible thing about free will: we can do whatever we like but we must be held accountable for whatever we do. Just because I don’t want to be a porn star today doesn’t mean that I should feel ashamed to have been one seven months ago. It’s something I did and I’m not afraid to say I did it, loved doing it, and just don’t feel like it’s what I need to do anymore. Shame and guilt are useless emotions. The only way I would feel ashamed is if I’d decided being a porn star isn’t what’s best for me and then continued doing it anyway.” — Jennie Ketcham
The light, glinting off the corrugated stainless steel exterior of the cars, signal lights streaking through the night sky, the ever present never coming closer circle of light from the distant locomotive, illuminating the trees as we pass them by, the light spilling from the cars, gently lighting the ground, the terrain so lit looking all the world as an ever present cloud of steam emanating from the train, the Fraser river to our left, gleaming from cloud glow above, emptying into the water left behind us, the gentle rolling to and fro, the curving one way and the other, like a giant metallic snake, letting me see the whole of the train peeling away only to catch back up to it, the low constant rumble, the train, moving onward, onward, onward.
Shining gaily in the dawn the river sits to the left, smells of breakfast filling the car along with the sounds of conversation and new friendships, vegetation streaking by the window again, again, again, the train car dancing with the cliff faces along the right, edging by, engaging in a game of closeness, high spirits for all, underpinned with a steady beat of rails, thadump, thadump, thadump.
People speaking in hushed tones, the valley through which we pass is our cathedral, muted tones of fading red and yellow dot the evergreen hillsides, rail sounds continuing to dominate, swaying back and forth, eyes transfixed on the landscape unfolding, the river Thompson glistening as it flows back the way we came, we weave gently between peaks, a summit suddenly beckoning all capped in white, shining tall amongst the other peaks, mottled colours climbing its distant face with the tree line sharp nearing its white crown, soon joined by companions, ringing the train, all around, from water to sky, nothing lies that does not please the eye, rolling on, one beautiful tableau after another.
Crisp air nips the face, delightful, the lowering sun revealing new colours on the hills, new shadows highlighting ancient topography, a pale half moon hanging silently over the lake, sharp reflection, the sky opening up, uninhibited, cold stars gleaming down, scents hanging in the air: pine, birch and the moist earth and leaves upon which we travel, mountains tantalizing, wildlife strutting their stuff, living their lives, we as intruders, they as nature powerful, wild, alive.
Fading back into the ground the hills recede, fading, the evening light matching the hills, fading, rail cars shining with reflected twilight, prairies beckoning, awaking, the horizon as flat a line as can be, the land stretches, stretches, stretches, dull gold the colour all around, clusters of trees breaking the endless plain, all has been cut, the fields low, the season ended, the winter coming, clouds grey, a plane matching the one below, freight rumbles past, colour of colour of cars, all different purposes, all rumbling on, as we do, forward.
Snow is here, streaking by the window, grain elevators standing watch, watching the rolling trains going by, splashes of red, green, white, alighting from hoppers, support piping, towers of holding, sleepy is the world, harvest past, fields dormant, few moving in the world outside the windows of the train, only the towers bearing witness, glassy still ponds reflecting all in perfect artistic beauty, the air hushed, flakes, flakes, flakes.
A new day equals a new postcard, strong conifers lining the path, conically pointing towards the sky, birches standing interspersed, white trunks assertive, subdued fall colours not yet fully receded still shining through, lakes, lakes, lakes glide past, mottled dark and blue the sky blares overhead, matched with rocks of deep grey, red, orange, holding the ground heavy, ancient, thick, wilderness untouched, standing ever present, trees, lakes, bare lakes, most fowl now flown south for the oncoming winter, patches of white giving evidence of the advancing season, the air is still, the train noise continues, continues, continues, snow growing, ground adorned with white, more, more, more, marshes, rivers, ponds, lying all still, dark hued, ice clinging, gripping, to the shore.
Bursting through, the colours of fall strut their style, past their prime yet still proud, the warmer clime keeping their fall attire longer, vibrancy, vibrancy, exploding in our vision, ponds, clearings, landscape giving way suddenly to urbanscape, roads, houses, bridges, parks, uptowns, downtowns, approaching the city, urbanity, graffiti, industrial, residential, big station looming, inside.
Into infinity, water hems the train on one side, yet not the ocean, traveling onward into the most populous region, through city, town, villages, lake calm, reflecting the sky, zooming by at high speeds, rocking steadily, fields, trees, clearings, crossings, all becoming vibrant streaks of colour, the distinct ring of the horn blares, blares, blares, level crossings coming, coming, coming fast and furiously, fields standing ready, ready for the spring, for planting, and old city looms, envelops, Paris in North America, thick walls of mortar and history, colourful shops, people bustling, longstanding vitality, thriving, thriving, thriving.
More east than east, further than the continent has gone before, a jutt of land across the bay, birch and poplars standing guard over flamboyant red groundcover, bursting from a clearing, undulating land rolling towards the horizon, rivers, rivers, rivers, churches sitting nestled in the landscape, white amongst the colourful backdrop, two provinces blending into one, horses, farms, the water coming, we move, east, east, est.
Red soil lies beneath, turned up here and there, potatoes gone but the fields remaining, unusual to our eyes, unique and vivid, clouds lazily overhead, farms, fields, fields, fields, houses dotting, rural, laid back, surrounded by ocean, water, coast, coast, travel, coast, windmills turning overhead.
Nine of Ten, Ocean to Ocean though not to Ocean, lands into lands into lands, landscapes into landscapes into landscapes, socials into socials into socials, the days and nights of exploring, adventure, of witness, now done, the journey ended, the memories never done.
(the title for this post came from a book I loved to get from the library)
Heard this on the radio, worth re-sharing… an observation by someone:
“I am so glad that the public library system exists already. Could you imagine trying to get it passed through Congress nowadays?”
There’s a lot of back and forth going on in the USA right now on the topic of healthcare as a “reform/overhaul bill” is being pursued in the halls of government. And with all that comes a lot of chatter on the airwaves and in public about it… and much of it is really getting my goat.
”I have found that most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.” – Abraham Lincoln
And how!
I am now officially entered the newest phase of geekdom, for I have taken my notebook to a coffee shop (to drink tea, naturally) and connected wirelessly and surfed/worked for a bit. And am now posting this via said notebook (albeit at home). Hooray!
Washer and dryer are being delivered tomorrow morning, also a big hooray. It’ll be grand to have in-house laundry, especially a nice front loader, and no quarters…
Fun push hands practice today, and got to push with Sifu for about 45 mins on Tuesday playing around and even getting into some freeform. Wow. Much to develop there, and way fun.
Kitchen still needs cleaning and putting together, going to work more on that this weekend, along with plans et al for the house addition. Talked to someone today about starting up a new green venture/partnership that could prove very exciting.
And may the bay blow a cold breeze our way tonight…
It’s about architecture and food!
Now this is what I’m talking about, an example of a house typology I’ve been envisioning for a while. Simple, passive design for a place, not divorced from its milieu:
To paraphrase an article I read on it: “The steel shading and concrete foundation help keep the home’s temperature a comfortable 23~C, even with outside temperatures hitting in the 40s; the air conditioning unit required by county codes still hasn’t been turned on.”
This is more of what we need.
Food wise, I caught a lecture by Michael Pollan on “It’s your World” (on NPR), great little lecture with those again simple three rules he’s researched:
He also says much other interesting stuff to sum up his research and writing.
That the “western diet” is proving disastrous to health is one of those things that seems to fall in the “We don’t want to believe what we know” category. His illumination of the focus on nutritionism is spot-on, and interesting how it has not only altered eating and allowed huge profits and marketing, but also provided a cover for not confronting our actual food choices and consumption and their impact.
Good stuff.
The quote in my last post is a great segue to something I’ve been doing some contemplation over the past few weeks and wanting to explore and share, and that is the human phenomenon of Cognitive Dissonance. It’s one of those things that hides out in the background, going mostly unnoticed in our lives, yet it’s there at play. Broadly speaking one of the key components to cognitive dissonance is the ability to actually hold two contradictory ideas in our mind simultaneously. When the two are actually present at the same time there is discomfort and discord and so to avoid this (cope with it) we often rationalize and justify the discontinuity, or we isolate the two in a way that the twain shall never meet. And this is where the quote “We don’t want to believe what we know,” lives. Something comes up to challenge where we stand, and we rationalize it, explain it away, or simply dismiss it out of hand. It doesn’t even matter if it’s right in our face, we can do a great job of sweeping it under the rug and not seeing it, explaining away the discomfort.
Another aspect, mused upon by Scott Adams on his blog once, is that cognitive dissonance also gives rise to resistance to and the inability to hear and to entertain other explanations or viewpoints other than those we already hold. New ideas and new information, or information that simply doesn’t match up, are filtered through this barrier, making it the rare few that make it through.
Given that we are human beings, we have cognitive dissonance. It’s not a question of “if,” it’s a question of “where do I have cognitive dissonance?” The great thing is that once we recognize we are having it we are free to just let it be and to actually, well, listen, learn and grow. I think if we all spent more time getting that cognitive dissonance is at work in all sorts of instances, we’d grow our understanding of the world, of possibilities, and of each other. And that can only make the sandbox in which we play bigger.
And that would be a fantastic place to be in.
QFMFT: “We don’t want to believe what we know.” – Yann Arthus-Bertrand
That’s a good one to meditate on.
