Filed under: Civil Rights, Emergency, Heinlein, movies, Predictions, Robert A. Heinlein, Science Fiction, Survival, Terrorism
By the time the dose of tempus was wearing off I had a picture of the United States in a shape that I had not imagined even when I was in Kansas City – a country undergoing Terror. Friend might shoot friend; wife denounce husband. Rumor of a titan could drum up a mob on any street, with Judge Lynch baying in the van. To rap on a door at night was to invite a blast through the door. Honest folk stayed home; at night the dogs were out.
The fact that most of the rumored discoveries of slugs were baseless made them no less dangerous. It was not exhibitionism which caused many people to prefer outright nudity to the tight and scanty clothing permitted under Schedule Sun Tan; even the skimpiest clothing invited a doubtful second look, a suspicion that might be decided too abruptly. The head-and-spine armor was never worn now; the slugs had faked it and used it almost at once.
That’s from Chapter XXIV of The Puppet Masters, the 1951 classic from Robert A. Heinlein.
It’s been a number of years since I last read the book – I think I read it prior to the release of the movie adaptation in 1994, but not since, so there were parts of the book which I didn’t remember. I had honestly forgotten that the alien invaders had come from Titan, for example – which is funny, since most of Communion of Dreams takes place there. And I forgot that Heinlein sets the book firmly in our current time – the first part of it is in July, 2007.
But what I hadn’t forgotten was the basic story line: alien invasion by quickly-reproducing “slugs” that can attach themselves to the human nervous system and completely control their hosts, using the full knowledge and abilities of those hosts. That made an impression on me when I first read the book in early adolescence. Scared the hell out of me.
What also made an impression was the above bit – the nudity. Hey, I was a hormone-soaked early teen. The idea of society quickly changing such that everyone would run around naked was . . . interesting.
When I re-read the book later (first semester of college at Grinnell – which so happened to be where the first bit of the book is set) and then again in advance of the movie, I just considered this bit to be part of Heinlein’s usual casual sexual tweaking of convention. It was no big deal, but I always just considered him of something of a ‘dirty old man’ who was looking for an excuse to get naked people into his books.
But now . . . well, I have to reconsider. He certainly nailed what people are like when frightened, and how that can have an impact on social mores. Consider my recent post about how willing some folks are to put up with the new security scanners and “enhanced pat downs,” and that’s just because of the *possibility* that these security procedures might make them marginally safer when flying. What if there was a massive threat which could be fought by shedding our clothes? People’d peel, and damned quickly.
So, Heinlein may indeed have just been something of a dirty old man. But he was also something of a prophet.
Jim Downey
There are over 150 posts here on my blog with the tag “Alzheimer’s.” That’s tens of thousands of words I have written about caring for Martha Sr and related issues. My co-author and I put together tens of thousands more into a book which we’re now trying to get published. And yet this short movie managed to convey what it is like to care for someone with a profound disability (which isn’t Alzheimer’s) and how that has an impact on everyone in the family:
Toby yearns for a life like any other eight-year-old kid. But his mentally disabled father is a constant reminder that life for Toby, will never be normal.
‘Water’ is a film about a young boy’s struggle to accept his fears, his mentally disabled father and his possible future duty.
It is an incredibly touching film, expertly done. Take the fifteen minutes or so and watch it. Though the description given doesn’t say so, I think you will find your life enriched and your day brightened in ways you will find surprising.
Jim Downey
Via MeFi.
Sometimes hard work is more satisfying than other times:
That’s what I just did. It’s my form of getting even with the damned wood that just about killed me a year ago. Took two hours to split it all, using a maul and a star wedge. That’s not quite 5′ tall, about 10′ wide. And yeah, I hurt, and will probably hurt more later once I cool down.
But damn, that felt good.
Jim Downey
“Can you tell me your wife’s birthdate?” asked the salesperson.
I was there to pick up a Rx for my wife, just running an errand. I looked at the woman. “I didn’t know there was going to be a pop quiz.”
* * * * * * *
You know those online ‘security’ questions that some sites use, to make sure you are who you say you are if you ever forget a password or something? Well, a lot of times one of the options is the birthday for one (or both) of your parents.
I never choose that option.
No, it’s not because it would be too easy to look up, and therefore not a very good security question. It’s because I don’t remember.
That may seem odd. Who doesn’t remember the birthday of your parents? What kind of child are you??
I ask myself that sometimes. I probably should know this. And I feel vaguely guilty that I don’t.
But I didn’t grow up celebrating my parent’s birthdays. At least not that I remember. I may have when I was young. But most of that part of my life was wiped away after my parents died.
* * * * * * *
You’d think that after almost 23 years of marriage, I’d know my wife’s birthday. Sheesh. It’d take a real dipshit not to, right? Or it’d be an indication of a lack of attention, or caring, or love.
Right?
Well, maybe. Maybe not.
This is part of the intro from one of the “months” (November: Endgame) in the caregiving book:
In the last year or so of care giving for Martha Sr, I got sick and tired of hearing some variation of the comment “You’re a saint for doing this.”
Oh, those friends and acquaintances meant well, when they said it. So I didn’t respond except to thank them for their kind words.
But I knew I was not a saint. I did not do this out of some kind of religious belief. I did it out of simple, intense love and respect – both for my wife, and for her mother. And in doing it, I became a better person.
* * * * * * *
My sister was born on July 30. Or maybe 31. I can never keep it straight which one it was.
I remember the event. It’s one of the few real anchors I have left from my childhood.
But it happened close to midnight. And I have been confused about which day it was, ever since.
* * * * * * *
“Dates are . . . slippery things,” I said. I was trying to explain to my wife about picking up her Rx. “You know it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, right?”
“Of course.”
She turned and went up the stairs, to shower.
“I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too,” she called as she disappeared upstairs.
* * * * * * *
“Can you tell me your wife’s birthdate?” asked the salesperson.
I was there to pick up a Rx for my wife, just running an errand. I looked at the woman. “I didn’t know there was going to be a pop quiz.”
The salesperson looked at me, with a certain amount of pity. Or maybe that was my imagination.
“It’s March 21. Or the 27. I can never keep it straight,” I said.
She wrote both dates down. “Thanks.”
I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t lack of attention, or a lack of love.
Jim Downey
Filed under: BoingBoing, Mars, movies, NASA, Predictions, Preparedness, Science, Science Fiction, Space, Survival, tech
How many times have you seen someone die in space? I mean in science fiction movies. Ignore the mass deaths from some huge battle. Think instead of individual deaths of a crew member on some kind of ship.
OK, and what usually happens with such an individual, post-mortem?
Right, it’s some variation on “burial at sea”. Unless there’s a specific reason why the body is kept for scientific purposes. This just makes sense – there’s a long tradition in many human cultures of burial at sea, for all kinds of practical and superstitious reasons. And while we’re still very much at the beginning of humankind’s ventures in space, we do think of it as akin to traveling the ocean.
So, how do you think NASA is planning on dealing with such an eventuality? Well, Mary Roach has a brief, but very interesting piece up at BoingBoing about a proposal for how to cope with a death on a trip to Mars. Here’s the intro:
The U.S. has plans for a manned visit to Mars by the mid-2030s. The ESA and Russia have sketched out a similar joint mission, and it is claimed that China’s space program has the same objective. Apart from their destination, all these plans share something in common: extraordinary danger for the explorers. What happens if someone dies out there, months away from Earth?
Swedish ecologists Susanne Wiigh-Mäsak and Peter Mäsak are the inventors of an environmentally friendly alternative to cremation and burial, called Promession. The technique entails freezing a body, vibrating it into tiny pieces, and then freeze-drying the pieces, which can then be used as compost to grow a memorial shrub or tree. The pair recently collaborated with NASA and design students in Denmark and Sweden to adapt Promession for use on a Mars mission.
Roach’s article contains illustrations and explanations from the proposal, showing how the system could be adapted for use on a long-term mission to Mars. Technically, it seems very straight-forward. Interestingly, it uses a ‘body bag’ type system similar to what I have in Communion of Dreams .
But I think that the article, and the proposal, show a curious mindset from NASA: they are still very much thinking in terms of being Earth-bound, and doing Earth-bound science, rather than exploration. Because exploration involves inherent risk, whereas in doing science one tries to eliminate risk in order to get dependable, testable data.
A couple of years ago I wrote about a proposal for a “one way” trip to Mars – where the astronaut(s) would accept that they would die on the planet rather than try and return. This hugely simplifies such a trip, since you don’t have to carry all the equipment and fuel needed to get back. Here’s a quote from that original newspaper item:
“When we eliminate the need to launch off Mars, we remove the mission’s most daunting obstacle,” said McLane. And because of a small crew size, the spacecraft could be smaller and the need for consumables and supplies would be decreased, making the mission cheaper and less complicated.
While some might classify this as a suicide mission, McLane feels the concept is completely logical.
“There would be tremendous risk, yes,” said McLane, “but I don’t think that’s guaranteed any more than you would say climbing a mountain alone is a suicide mission. People do dangerous things all the time, and this would be something really unique, to go to Mars. I don’t think there would be any shortage of people willing to volunteer for the mission. Lindbergh was someone who was willing to risk everything because it was worth it. I don’t think it will be hard to find another Lindbergh to go to Mars. That will be the easiest part of this whole program.”
As I said in that previous post, we’re all gonna die – only the manner and timing of our deaths are unknown. I think that McLane is right – there would be a huge number of people willing to volunteer for a ‘one-way’ trip to Mars. But even beyond that, if we’re dedicated to the idea of a return-trip (and there are plenty of good reasons to want to do so) mission, there are still plenty of people who would accept the personal risk and want to be “buried at sea” should they die during such a trip. Why bother with additional specialized equipment and supplies to cope with returning the body of a deceased crew member? Hauling all that extra weight to Mars and back makes no sense at all.
Perhaps, when we have advanced the technology of spaceflight sufficiently, to the point where it is akin to transportation here on Earth now, it’ll make sense to have mechanisms in place to return the bodies of explorers and scientists and military troops. But we have a very long way to go before we get to that point.
Jim Downey
No, don’t worry – I’m not suicidal. Yes, I’ve been through a mild depressive bout recently, but nothing that severe.
But I have been thinking about the possibility of my own death. It’s actually something that I think about a fair amount.
Again – don’t worry. This is a natural outgrowth of losing one’s parents at a young age. You tend to be realistic about your own mortality. I’ve been like this all of my adult life. It’s not a bad way to be – I try and enjoy life in the moment, not take things for granted. I tell my wife I love her often, and my friends that I value their friendship. I have a preference for experiences rather than things, knowing that I won’t always be around to appreciate things. But I also see that things will live beyond me, and so prefer to have *good* things that others will someday appreciate. This last item is also part of the reason I do what I do professionally – both the book conservation and the writing. They are things which I will be happy to have outlive me.
Yesterday when I talked to the nurse at my medical group, she told me that she’d call in the new Rx for antibiotics, and that I should try and take it easy this weekend to let them work. She was also pretty insistent that I knew that if I am not feeling better come Monday that the doctor wanted to see me again.
I’m a little too smart for my own good. Upon hearing this (and promising to comply), I got to thinking about why the doctor would want to see me on Monday, given my symptoms. A couple of ideas occurred which explained it. One, he could just want to make sure I was getting proper monitoring for a lung infection, given my history of problems with pneumonia (which I have had four or five times). This is the most likely explanation. Or he could be concerned that I have an antibiotic-resistant strain of whatever infectious agent was at work. These days, that is not entirely unreasonable, and smart doctors are keeping an eye out for such problems. Lastly, a number of other possible problems could be manifesting as the symptoms I have, from whooping cough (not as severe in adults, but still…) to lung cancer (one of the most deadly cancers out there).
OK. So, those are the possibilities. Face them. Consider them. Consider the ramifications, from minor annoyance to “put your affairs in order”. There’s no reason to be afraid, just prepared. Fear is the mind killer.
Mostly, I live my life such that were I to be hit by a truck tomorrow, things wouldn’t be that hard for whoever had to clean up the mess. In this particular case, if I have some kind of life-ending disease, then that’ll be my wife. Some conservation work wouldn’t get done. My co-author would have to see to getting Her Final Year published. My dog would miss me. My friends would have to throw a decent wake, or I’d come haunt them. The cats *might* notice that someone else now feeds them. The rest of the BBTI testing would have to be done in my absence. Insurance would cover my debts. If I had some time (such as with a disease) I could find homes for the few things I would want others to have – otherwise, my wife would be happy to hold onto things as a memento (she’s very sentimental that way).
Chances are, if I am *not* feeling significantly better come Monday, that when I see the doctor it’ll turn out that he is just taking appropriate precautions. But, you know, I consider the alternatives. I hate surprises.
This is the way I think. Always have. Don’t dwell on it, but am well aware that I am just a temporary resident here. So I think it is better to be prepared.
Don’t you?
Jim Downey
Gah. I hate to be right, sometimes.
In January 2009 I wrote this:
As usual, it’s only in hindsight that you recognize it. The typical seasonal downturn is something more. Oh, you’re aware of the symptoms. The intense introspection. Desire to sleep more. Lower level of creativity. Difficulty in finding the motivation to do anything. Lack of enthusiasm for the usual things you enjoy. Tendency to drink more, without getting the slightest buzz from it. You’re aware of the symptoms, but until you’ve been dealing with them for a while they don’t all add up to something that you can see.
The ‘black dog‘.
And as noted previously, my bipolar condition tends to run on an 18-to-24 month cycle, though that can be effected by external factors.
Count months. Yeah.
Which explains why teaching my class the last two weeks was so hard, so draining, for all that it was also very enjoyable. Being a public person in the midst of a depressive slide is doable, it just takes an inordinate amount of energy.
Ah, well.
But the good news is that once I realize how deeply I am into this cycle, it usually means that I don’t have a whole lot further down to go. Typically, just a matter of weeks. Something to look forward to. And now that the class is done I can put my energy back into the other things which need my attention, and slowly build on the small accomplishments.
Walk. One foot in front of the other. It’s the only thing that helps.
Jim Downey
I haven’t written much about it, though it is mentioned in my bio and most of my close friends know: I lost both parents when I was just entering adolescence.
Well, no, I didn’t “lose” them. They died. My dad was a cop, killed on the job, and my mom died in a car accident about a year and a half later (no link here – believe it or not, relevant newspaper archives online don’t yet cover the 1960s and 70s). I’m not being pedantic – it was crucial for me to face the hard reality of my parent’s deaths in order to come to terms with them being gone. Why? Well, because everyone just wanted to dance around the fact that they were dead, relying instead on the usual euphemisms about death in our society.
And that’s why I mention it here, and now. Because there is a new survey out showing that we as a society do not deal well with children who have lost a parent. Here’s a bit from a Wall Street Journal article sent to me by a friend:
Their responses, part of a wide-ranging new survey, indicate that bereavement rooted in childhood often leaves emotional scars for decades, and that our society doesn’t fully understand the ramifications—or offer appropriate resources. The complete survey of more than 1,000 respondents, set for release later this month, was funded by the New York Life Foundation on behalf of Comfort Zone Camp, a nonprofit provider of childhood bereavement camps.
Among the findings: 73% believe their lives would be “much better” if their parents hadn’t died young; 66% said that after their loss “they felt they weren’t a kid anymore.”
Childhood grief is “one of society’s most chronically painful yet most underestimated phenomena,” says Comfort Zone founder Lynne Hughes, who lost both her parents before she was 13. She says she is worried that educators, doctors, and the clergy get little or no training to help them recognize signs of loneliness, isolation and depression in grieving children—and in adults who lost parents in childhood.
Yet 1 in 9 Americans lost a parent before they turned 20.
I have sometimes surprised people by saying that my experience of losing my parents isn’t unusual – not in the span of human history. Given normal lifespans and mortality rates, a lot of people through the ages grew up without having one or both parents. But our culture is really in denial about death, and so we don’t have the same traditions and rituals that may have been in place to help in other times.
Now, I came to terms with the deaths of my parents many years ago. Not all at once, but over time, and in my own ways. That’s what grieving is, and we each do so on our own schedule. But there are things which could have helped – and even to this day, occasionally I come across an insight that helps to explain some of my own emotional landscape.
A decade or so ago I read a book that helped to explain a *lot*: The Loss That Is Forever: The Lifelong Impact of the Early Death of a Mother or Father. It showed me that many of the things I just assumed were my own personality quirks were in fact common reactions to the death of a parent. What I wouldn’t have given to have that information decades previously.
And that is why I mention this today. I told my friend who sent the WSJ link that I was not surprised by the results of the survey, but that it would probably be very much a surprise to anyone who hadn’t had this experience. And that should change. Because there are things that we could do to help make the lives easier of those who lose a parent while still a child. And it would help our society at the same time.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 