Filed under: BoingBoing, Climate Change, Cory Doctorow, Emergency, Flu, General Musings, Global Warming, Government, Heinlein, Pandemic, Plague, Predictions, Robert A. Heinlein, Science Fiction, Society, Space, tech, Tor.com, Weather, Writing stuff
Via BoingBoing, an interesting discussion over on Tor.com: The Dystopic Earths of Heinlein’s Juveniles. An excerpt:
It’s funny how it’s overpopulation and political unpleasantness that cause the problems, never ecological disaster. Maybe that wasn’t on the horizon at all in the fifties and early sixties? I suppose every age has its own disaster story. It’s nice how little they worry about nuclear war too, except in Space Cadet which is all nuclear threat, Venusians and pancakes. They don’t make them like that any more. Come to think it’s probably just as well.
* * *
No individual one of these would be particularly noticeable, especially as they’re just background, but sitting here adding them up doesn’t make a pretty picture. What’s with all these dystopias? How is it that we don’t see them that way? Is it really that the message is all about “Earth sucks, better get into space fast”? And if so, is that really a sensible message to be giving young people? Did Heinlein really mean it? And did we really buy into it?
Yeah, he meant it. And further, he was right.
No, I’m not really calling into question the premise of the piece – that Heinlein had something of a bias about population and governmental control. And I’m not saying that he was entirely correct in either his politics or his vision of the future.
But consider the biggest threat facing us: No, not Paris Hilton’s involvement in the presidential election, though a legitimate case can be made that this is indeed an indication of the end of the world. Rather, I mean global warming.
And why do we have global warming? Because of the environmental impact of human civilization. And why is this impact significant? Because of the size of the human population on this planet.
And what is the likely response to the coming changes? Increased governmental control.
[Mild spoilers ahead.]
For Communion of Dreams I killed off a significant portion of the human race as part of the ‘back story’. Why? Well, it served my purposes for the story. But also because I think that one way or another, we need to understand and accept that the size of our population is a major factor in all the other problems we face. Whether it is limitations caused by peak oil or some other resource running out, or the impact of ‘carbon footprints’, or urban sprawl, or food shortages, all of these problems have one common element: population pressure. We have too many people consuming too many resources and generating too much pollution. In fact, when I once again turn my writing the prequel to Communion, I may very well make this connection more explicit, and have the motivation of the people responsible for the fireflu based on this understanding.
So yeah, Heinlein was right. He may not have spelled out the end result (ecological disaster) per se, but he understood the dynamic at work, and what it would lead to. Just because things haven’t gotten as bad as they can get doesn’t mean that we’re not headed that direction. Our technology can only compensate for so long – already we see things breaking down at the margins, and the long term problems are very real. You can call it ‘dystopic’, but I’ll just call it our future.
Jim Downey
Hank dropped me a note last evening. A nice, short one. Noted that today is National Friendship Day, and wished me well, as a friend. A bit of a surprise, because while I do indeed consider Hank to be a friend, he’s one I’ve never met and only corresponded with occasionally. I get the impression he’s just that way.
I’ve mentioned previously that I have been blessed with a number of good friends. Earlier this week one of them sent me this quote:
Nothing so fortifies a friendship as a belief on the part of one friend that he is superior to the other.
— Honore de Balzac
My response:
Like the Balzac, but as applies to us I think it would have to be tweaked to this:
“Nothing so fortifies a friendship as a belief on the part of each friend that the other is superior.”
Actually, more that I think about it, this applies to most of my really close friendships. Maybe that says something.
My friend responded:
Yes. We don’t gravitate to people so like us that we have identical abilities, but persons from whom we can learn and grow and by whom we can be intrigued.
As it happened, another friend was visiting the next day, and stayed overnight. He and I were sitting up late, as old friends are wont to do, sipping a bit of decent single malt. I hit him with this notion of friendship. After due consideration, he agreed with my take on the matter, and added his own bit, along these lines:
It is only through my friendships that I have come to appreciate some of the things in myself that others admire.
I don’t know about Balzac, but I would have never made it through a somewhat rough and tumble life without my friends. Some have come and gone, held close for a brief season. Others have weathered storms with me, and I with them, establishing deep foundations which have held fast even through years of neglect. And while I am honest about my abilities, and know that on some things I may be more skilled, or knowledgeable, or talented, in no way does that permit a thought of superiority. Lord knows I have an ego – but even I would tire of thinking myself superior to others I consider friends. For real friendship, real love, there needs to be respect and a bit of a challenge. At least for me.
To all my friends, thank you.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Comics, General Musings, movies, NYT, Paleo-Future, Predictions, Science, Science Fiction, tech, Travel
. . . but the announcement that there is a functional personal flying device to be revealed today is still pretty cool.
Why do I call it a ‘personal flying device’? Because it isn’t really a classic ‘jetpack‘ as we’ve seen in plenty of cartoons and movies. It is a large beast, weighing about 250 pounds, with twin fans each the size of a garbage can cut about in half. And for safety purposes, there is a support frame which allows the pilot to climb under the thing and strap himself to it. Hardly the ‘engine’ of The Rocketeer. But all in all, not a bad start – this is functional, will fly for about 30 minutes (the longest classic jetpack such as James Bond flew could go for about 30 seconds), and is fairly stable. From here significant improvements will be made. And Glenn Martin, the inventor of the device, understands this:
Only 12 people have flown the jetpack, and no one has gained more than three hours of experience in the air. Mr. Martin plans to take it up to 500 feet within six months. This time, he said with a smile, he will be the first.
Mr. Martin said he had no idea how his invention might ultimately be used, but he is not a man of small hopes. He repeated the story of Benjamin Franklin, on first seeing a hot-air balloon, being asked, “What good is it?” He answered, “What good is a newborn baby?”
Exactly.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Daily Kos, General Musings, Health, movies, Preparedness, Publishing, Society, Writing stuff
I mentioned in passing last week that I was working on all my care-giving posts for a book. Here’s a bit more about that project, as it is tentatively shaping up.
Sometime last year, when I cross-posted one of those entries on Daily Kos, I discovered that there was someone else there who was in pretty much the exact same situation: caring for a beloved mother-in-law. For a variety of reasons, it is fairly unusual to find a man caring for a mother-in-law with dementia. We didn’t strike up what I would call a friendship, since both of us were preoccupied with the tasks at hand, but we did develop something of a kinship, commenting back and forth in one another’s diaries on that site. Our paths diverged – he and his wife eventually needed to get his mother-in-law into a care facility, whereas my wife and I were able to keep Martha Sr home until the end. But the parallels were made all the more striking by those slight differences. In the end, his “Mumsie” passed away about six weeks before Martha Sr died.
Recently this fellow and I picked up the thread of our occasional conversation once again. And discovered that both of us, independently, had been thinking of writing up a book about the experience of care giving. It didn’t take long before we realized that together we could produce a more comprehensive book, and a lot more easily, drawing on our individual experiences to show similarities and different choices. A few quick emails sorted out the pertinent details – basic structure of the book, that all proceeds from it will go to the Alzheimer’s Association (or them and other related organizations), some thoughts on publishing and promotion – and we were off and running.
For now, I’ll just identify him by his screen name: GreyHawk. By way of introduction, check out this excellent post of his at ePluribus Media, where he very neatly explains the *why* of our decision to write this book:
Special thanks to Jim Downey for the supplying the links to the video and to his blog, and just for being him; my wife and I took comfort from the fact that we were not alone in our situation, and that we knew at least one other couple who were going through a very similar experience to our own.
That’s it right there. Millions of Americans are facing this situation today, and millions more will in coming years as the baby-boomer generation ages. I’m not a scientist who can help find a cure to the diseases of age-related dementia. I’m not wealthy and able to make a significant difference in funding such research. But I can perhaps help others to understand the experience. GreyHawk and I are going to try, anyway. I know that my wife and I found comfort in knowing that we were not alone in this. So did he and his wife. If we can share that with others, and make their experience a little more understandable, a little easier, then that will be a worthy thing.
Wish us luck.
Jim Downey
Last weekend, when my shooting buddy Steve and I went out to do some pistol work, we were talking after about this and that. I mentioned that I thought I would like to get a flintlock rifle, because I had enjoyed shooting one of his flintlocks on another occasion. Black powder cartridge guns are basically the same as modern smokeless powder guns, though the shock impulse of firing isn’t the same (there is a sharp difference between the quick snap of modern powder and the slower push of BP). The earlier percussion cap weapons are a little different in terms of loading (typically done muzzle-loading style), but have a similar ‘instantaneous ignition’. With a flintlock, there is a notable lag time between the strike of the flint, and the ignition of the powder charge in the gun. Which presents more challenges for shooting the things well – you have to maintain your control and composure longer, waiting for the full ignition to happen and the bullet to be launched at your target.
I’m by no means a ‘master’ of modern guns, but I can handle most of them fairly well. I know how to properly sight in, how to control my breath and gently squeeze the trigger, how to deal with the recoil. I’ve never been particularly interested in the super-accurate competitions, trying to get multiple rounds through a bulls-eye at a 100 or a 1000 yards. Some folks are, but that’s not for me. I’m happy to make tin cans jump – the sort of level of shooting skill one needs for hunting or self-defense.
Shooting a flintlock is a different story – there are more skills needed, and greater perfection of some of the skills I already have. Plus there’s the historical aspect, tied to the founding of this country. So we talked about it some, and I thought that sometime in the not-too distant future I might order in a kit, and build/finish a flintlock rifle myself – looking to Steve for information and guidance, since this is an area in which he is very knowledgeable.
Anyway, yesterday afternoon he needed to swing by to drop off some other stuff, and when he showed up he gave me this: a Mortimer Flintlock .54 caliber rifle (reproduction). Mine isn’t the ‘target’ version pictured there, but from what I can tell the only major difference is the additional peep site mounted behind the lock mechanism. It’s a wonderful, and lovingly used, weapon. He said he thought it would make a nice birthday gift, and get me started flintlocking (‘rock locking’ some call it, since flint is a hunk of rock) until I got a kit I wanted to build. He brought it complete with the necessary lead balls, patches, black powder, horn, et cetera.
I was gobsmacked. A bit bumfuzzled.
Wow.
I have been the recipient of many wonderful gifts, this among them. And it always makes me feel humble to have such friends and loved ones. I don’t like ‘things’ – I’m not an acquisitive sort of person who subscribes to the consumerist philosophy of “he who dies with the most toys, wins”. But a well-made tool (firearms fall into this category, as far as I am concerned), or a piece of art, or even a good meal – these things given out of love and friendship, are more than just ‘things’, and are worth more than a simple dollar sign would indicate. I think a lot of people forget that.
I’m glad my friends and loved ones don’t.
Jim Downey
Filed under: 2nd Amendment, Alzheimer's, Book Conservation, Daily Kos, Failure, Feedback, Fermi's Paradox, General Musings, Guns, Health, Hospice, Science Fiction, Writing stuff
Well, we didn’t make the “10,000 downloads before I turn 50” goal. Still about 225 shy of 10k. Which is OK. It’ll give me another reason to celebrate when it happens!
I did get a nice comment over on dKos in the cross-posted diary there yesterday:
Happy birthday Jim, read your book again the other day, liked it as much as the first time. When’s the prequel describing the fireflu and the sequal where we actually have contact?
As I’ve discussed here often, the recovery period from caring for Martha Sr is taking longer than I had initially expected, and as a result I haven’t been as quick to return to writing St. Cybi’s Well as I hoped. But that’s OK, too. I find that I am feeling somewhat energized by crossing the threshold* of turning 50. It has helped that we’ve got a lot of the household stuff packed up and sent off – now my wife and I can start rearranging things here to suit our preferences. It’s funny how little things can clear the slate, allow you that wonderful feeling of starting something fresh. It also gives me more focus and enthusiasm for finishing other projects – the ballistics testing website, working on the book about being a care provider for someone in the last year with Alzheimer’s, even just my conservation work.
So it’s an exciting time, a good time, even with the mild disappointment that I didn’t get all I wanted for my birthday.
Jim Downey
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Threshold, by the way, was the original working title for Communion of Dreams, playing off not just the impending revelations of the reality of the universe and our place in it, but also on the idea of crossing the threshold of the dimensional boundary layer which has isolated us and therefore explains Fermi’s Paradox. Unfortunately, as I discovered, there were already several uses of that title in SF alone. Ah, well. I like Communion of Dreams even more – it’s more evocative, if less succinct. – JD
Filed under: Civil Rights, Constitution, General Musings, Government, NYT, Preparedness, Religion, Society
Here in the Midwest there is a real and significant problem with meth – to the point of paranoia on the part of both the population and government. This has led to laws restricting access to certain precursor drugs and chemicals, reports of environmental damage (meth labs tend to produce some really nasty chemical contamination), and the development of special task forces of local, state and federal police agencies to target meth production and distribution. It is the War on (Some) Drugs on steroids.
So it is fairly easy to see how something like this can happen:
Town Finds Drug Agent Is Really an Impostor
GERALD, Mo. — Like so many rural communities in the country’s middle, this tiny town had wrestled for years with the woes of methamphetamine. Then, several months ago, a federal agent showed up.
Busts began. Houses were ransacked. People, in handcuffs on their front lawns, named names. To some, like Mayor Otis Schulte, who considers the county around Gerald, population 1,171, “a meth capital of the United States,” the drug scourge seemed to be fading at last.
* * *
But after a reporter for the local weekly newspaper made a few calls about that claim, Gerald’s anti-drug campaign abruptly unraveled after less than five months. Sergeant Bill, it turned out, was no federal agent, but Bill A. Jakob, an unemployed former trucking company owner, a former security guard, a former wedding-performing minister, a former small-town cop from 23 miles down the road.
Ah, yes, that is a bit of a problem.
Read the whole piece, and you’ll likely be astonished that this guy was able to pull off this con job for so long. He had no documentation. He claimed that he didn’t need a warrant to enter people’s homes and businesses. He got by on cop-like swagger, a black T-shirt that said “POLICE”, a cop-wannabe car, and a short haircut.
Oh, and on the fact that the local police and government wanted him to succeed for their own purposes.
See, this is the thing. Pesky things like due process and respecting the civil rights of people slows down drug investigations. Or terror investigations. This can frustrate cops at about every level, who see a problem and honestly want to fix it. Along comes someone who says that he has the solution, and it is easy to believe him.
This is what the Wars on Drugs and Terror have brought: a willingness to trust authority at the cost of civil liberties. A willingness to cut corners to ‘meet the threat’. A perception that we’re in a crisis, and only by extraordinary means can we survive.
It starts by recognizing a problem. Then, because identifying and targeting a problem brings with it increased budget and power for the agency/department tasked with dealing with the problem, there is a tendency to inflate the problem, convince the public that the problem is growing, or deeper than initially thought. Things spiral, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Unchecked, this positive-feedback loop takes on a life of its own, until it culminates in stupidity and horror.
This is the basic mechanism of what happened with the Inquisition. With the Salem Witch Trials. With the Red Scare(s). And now with the Wars on Drugs and Terror.
Think that I am over simplying? Here’s what Bill Jakob’s attorney, one Joel Schwartz, said about how his client got into this mess:
“It was an innocent evolution, where he helped with one minor thing, then one more on top of that, and all of the sudden, everyone thought he was a federal agent,” Mr. Schwartz said. “I’m not saying this was legal or lawful. But look, they were very, very effective while he was present. I don’t think Gerald is having the drug problem they were having. I’ve heard from some residents who were thrilled that he was there.”
That right there explains why and how these things happen. The way to stop them is well known: legal protection and due process. Those mechanisms were developed slowly over the centuries, with notable culminations in Magna Carta, our own Constitution, and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. We ignore those protections at our peril.
Jim Downey
Cross posted to UTI.
Filed under: Connections, General Musings, Health, Predictions, SCA, Society, Survival, Violence, Writing stuff
The past is not dead. In fact, it’s not even past.
William Faulkner.
I’ve read my share of Faulkner, as appropriate for someone getting through a high school English class in the 1970s. And then I read a lot more in graduate school. Always loved his use of language, but I never really ‘got’ that quote, though it nicely sums up one of the major themes of his writing. Partly, this was just being young. Partly it was because of a conscious effort on my part to forget some of the worst aspects of my own personal history.
Oh, sure, I understood how the past shapes the future. In fact, that was a big part of my interest in both economics (one of my college degrees) and the SCA – knowing history allows you to understand how things develop in the ways they have, and can provide analogs which can be useful to understanding new situations when they arise. (That is discussed explicitly in Communion of Dreams, in relation to the the industrial archaeologist brought onto the research team.) But for me, the past has always been the past: dead, immutable.
Until now.
* * * * * * *
As mentioned previously, we’re in the process of dividing up Martha Sr’s estate. This includes the household items. When someone has lived in one house, and raised a family there, for over 50 years, lots and lots of stuff accumulates. In an effort to be completely fair and above board, we’ve had assessors in to evaluate the furniture and household items, so that each family member involved can be sure that they get their share. This coming weekend my wife and her siblings are going to go through and divvy everything up. Then over the coming weeks stuff will get moved out and we’ll deal with whatever no one wanted. Eventually, only those things which are ours will remain, and my wife and I can proceed to actually getting settled here.
Because when we sold our house and moved in here to care for Martha Sr, we wanted to disrupt her home environment as little as possible. We wedged ourselves into rooms which she didn’t use much, put a lot of stuff into storage. It was a pain, but one we were willing to put up with while we cared for her.
Now, of course, I am looking forward to actually getting settled. As I told a friend recently:
It was frustrating to be shoe-horned in here the last six years, but I was willing to put up with it for Martha Sr’s sake. As I have been recovering from the care-giving, I have been wanting more and more to feel less and less cramped up here – I can only put up with this level of chaos and annoyance for so long.
But of course it is a little different for my wife, who now sees her childhood home being split up, her memories associated with this or that piece of furniture bereft of a physical connection.
* * * * * * *
I never met my father in law. He died before my wife and I got together. But he was something of a local character, and over the years here I have had many people tell me anecdotes about him. Seems most people either loved him or hated him. He evidently carried on a number of long-term feuds.
One such was with a local builder, who is now the executor of a family trust which owns the property next to us (part of a large tract in our neighborhood which has caused some grief for people here). For various legal reasons (limitations on the trust), this property has always been undeveloped. But now those reasons are being resolved. And it turns out that what we thought for some 50 years is part of our property is actually part of the trust. This includes a substantial strip of our lawn and even a chunk of my garden, about half of the fenced in area I created for my dog, and a substantial number of huge trees. My wife’s family has maintained and used the strip of property for that entire time.
So for the better part of the last year we’ve been involved in some legal wrangling to settle this issue. Because, you know, the matter couldn’t be settled simply, due to the aforementioned feud. And yesterday things came to a bit of a head, as the son of the executor came onto our property to ‘do some maintenance’.
I had words with him.
OK, let’s recap: I, who never met my father-in-law, had a potentially dangerous confrontation with the son of a man who had a feud with my FIL.
Given my current attempts to recover from prolonged and excess stress, this could have gotten stupid very quickly. And I spent a lot of time afterwards carefully considering the situation. And somewhere in there last night I realized that I finally understood just exactly what Faulkner meant. Now I know why border disputes and blood feuds are carried on for generations, pulling people in who otherwise would react in more sane and rational ways. Because, without desire or intent on my part, I am in the middle of exactly one such episode of history intruding on the present.
This is insane.
* * * * * * *
My wife and I discussed the matter at some length last night, once I had stepped back from the adrenaline stew that had me jumped up. Our attorney will seek a restraining order on the other parties to prevent them from doing anything to the disputed strip of property until the matter is resolved in court – to just keep things ‘status quo’. I have asked for specific instructions from our attorney about what I should do in the event that we have a recurrence – ignore it, call the cops, confront them, what?
But beyond that, I have decided that I am going to try and disentangle myself from this historical mess. I just want a resolution to the matter, and of the feud, so I can get on with my life. But I cannot make that resolution – this is a problem for others to sort out; their problem, not mine. Because I finally ‘got’ what Faulkner meant, and understand that unless I disentangle myself I am likely to contribute to a perpetuation of this feud, damaging my own sanity and soul in the process.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 