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    eXISTENTIAL pANIC tEA.

    byronius, 2006/05/25 

    If pain is none but communication, then theoretically i could pony up some internal code that stated pain to some moderate degree, and then flipped. Or just switched to an optic nerve chart with clear, colorful readouts. Oh, look at the lovely red. That’s — bad, right?

    United Not. The United Not. Not Real. When the signals to and from the Body Politic become manipulated, the Body Politic does not shrink from Leaping Off. It sees Flowers — not The Hole.

    Suicidal Impulses From Certain Cells. My Cell wants to Live, and Live Well; I Defy.

    Complex signals, complex lives, always. Complex Technology, however — remember the asymptotic projection for technological development — We Are Accelerating.

    Because War breeds Technology. The War between People and Power now complicated by the addition of Rapidly Growing Complex Technology. Inevitable, yes. Fun to get sucked down the New Tunnel. hell no. Green Cross Gas drifting across No-Man’s Land gives no shock of warning when First Used. We are somehow chosen for This Generation. The Asymptotic Generation.

    Keep up. I need to keep up, to survive. Learn Faster. My Cell wants to Live. My signals agitate for Earth.

    Us.

    John Tierney hates the truth

    Max, 2006/05/24 

    A recent diary on Daily Kos highlighted the New York Times’ fair and positive review of “An Inconvenient Truth”, Al Gore’s global warming movie. In the same issue, reminiscent of the recent contrasts between the Washington Post’s editorial and factual news pages, John Tierney weighs in with his counter-review- and boy is it a doozy.

    Tierney’s screed is nothing less than a whine-fest attacking the messenger in all the tired old cliches the media used in 2000 to discredit Gore and distract from his message. His biggest complaint is with the title because he snidely suggests that the real “inconvienient truth” is that Gore isn’t serious about the issue but is using it for political purposes. He seems capable of completely ignoring the peril we face because it bugs him that Al Gore is the nerd who might dare to become popular.

    He should have gone with something closer to “Revenge of the Nerd.” That’s the heartwarming angle to global warming. A college student is mesmerized by his professor’s bold measurements of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Our hero carries this passion into Congress, where no one listens to him, and then works up a slide show that he inflicts on audiences around the world, to no discernible effect.

    But then his slide show becomes a horror movie — and it turns into a cult hit. The nerd becomes the toast of Hollywood, Sundance and Cannes. He is cheered at premieres across America. Audiences sit enraptured through a film starring graphs of CO2 concentrations and close-ups of ice cores.

    Can’t you just feel the desperation and the wounded vanity? Tierney knows Gore is winning big with this issue and that it just might succeed in changing the public’s perception of him as the “wooden” and “unfunny” failed presidential candidate that he and others in the media have worked so hard to develop. The really shameful part is that he can place more value on deriding Gore than on the importance of his message. The attack is almost completely devoid of discussion of the merits of the movie’s message.
    I highly encourage everyone to read Tierney’s piece, as obnoxious as it is, to get a sense of the desperation Gore is fostering on the right. Think they might just be a little scared of him these days?

    arcturus on earth

    aldous, 2006/05/20 

    I can only speak for myself on this page; I offer no grand or universal truths for bloggers to adapt for their own. I can only write while contemplating my own vision based on my own experience. If this inspires others, then welcome to our new community.

    There is no doubt that my heart is as heavy as yours. No one writes on this site or other progressive media without a love and dedication no matter how distant from their own awareness it might be. Yes, we all suffer on some level together, afraid of the damage done to the earth, terrified for a future that may never be for our kids. Because of this fear and anxiety, my soul, with all its potential for flight, has become contorted and twisted, grounded and limping through life with no real plan, wounded and going in circles, the way to the truth lost in the smog of our technologically rendered world.

    read more…

    A True Story About Max. First in a Series.

    byronius, 2006/05/19 

    Once upon a time, when I was homeless and wandering, Max let me stay at his house in Nederland, Colorado. I slept under the staircase, just like Harry Potter.

    One night, we all went to a mountain bar in a neighboring town. On the way home, we were driving along a mountain highway cut into the edge of an enormous cliff. I could see over the guardrail — maybe an eight thousand foot drop.

    For a lark, Max turned off the headlights of his famous truck, Mac; we drifted along the edge in complete blackness, inches away from the drop, or so I thought, because I couldn’t see anything.

    I screamed. Max chuckled. I knew we were going to die; Max assured me that at least it would be quick. After several long minutes of sensory deprivation, Max flicked the headlights back on. We were alive!!

    Now, Max will probably tell you that there was a full moon; however, in therapy, as I was re-living the experience to overcome the trauma of it, I remember clearly that Greg making a comment about “like being in an isolation tank.” I believe that during the several minutes the lights were off, I cycled through various altered states, adrenaline substituting for ketamine. I am still stuck in some paleolithic phase of myself. Rrrrgggg.
    And so. Max. The legendary Max of the frighteningly suicidal and wild Madmen. Is he still alive? No one knows.

    Click.

    Insect Politics.

    byronius, 2006/05/18 

    An analogy put forth by Jerky, a Democratic Underground member, likens the Left to a mouse who successfully identifies the color of the crest of the Owl that is presently consuming him. Much of the burbling on the Factinista Boards includes references to being eaten; the nation as a whole, our civil rights, our resources, our future — disappearing down the gullet of Fat Bastard.

    I do believe all meaningful dialogue between Left and Right has virtually ceased, and with good reason. The Right has stepped back from actual Democracy; now, it’s down to mandibles and carapaces. Words mean nothing now. ‘Freedom’? Silent, Acquiescent Labor is Freedom. ‘Truth’? Truth is what they Really Mean. Which is — Die. Die. Die. Submit or Die. Or something like that, in the language of the Mantis.
    Raid. Not just for servers anymore.

    Peak Oil is not about the oil

    Max, 2006/05/12 

    Another depressing peak oil post. This one is sourced from an email posted to the yahoo group Running on Empty2, which can be counted on whenever I need a good depressing peak oil post. I don’t know what this writer’s credentials are, but he hits the point that I understand intuitively to be the crux of the problem. The bounty of fossil fuels has enabled the human race to grow way beyond its ability to sustain itself when that bounty is no longer available. And it’s still growing and using up the bounty at an increasing rate. In short, the shit is about to hit the fan, and the result will be a lot of hunger, insects and death. I said it was a depressing peak oil post. Consider this before you hit the read more link.

    read more…

    Coastside Builders update

    Max, 2006/05/09 

    Here’s a quick update on the Coastside Builders season (detailed reports available at http://www.new-worlds.org/baseball):

    When we last visited the magical season of the Coastside Builders, Jeremy’s first official little league baseball team, they had battled to a 3-0 record and showed a lot of character in the process. The next game was their first loss, but since then they have gone 4-1 and have a none too shabby *8-2 record with one game left in the regular season before the playoffs begin.

    read more…

    Orwell, Burma and Iraq

    Max, 2006/05/07 

    A short time ago my area on the coastside south of San Francisco lost internet access for an entire weekend. Being a complete internet junky I was soon experiencing major withdrawal. In my frantic desperation I scanned a bookshelf I visit all too rarely anymore and my eye alighted upon a book that had been in my possession since childhood, but that I’d never read; George Orwell’s Burmese Days. I soon found myself immersed in the simple joy of reading an unknown (to me) work of a great writer and forgot all about the internet.

    Orwell based this novel- one of his first- on the five years he had spent as a policeman in the British Army during the occupation of Burma (now Myanmar) in the 1930s.

    read more…

    Rick Steves is my hero

    Max, 2006/05/06 

    He might not be as sexy as Barbarella, but I dig Rick Steves. My wife and I are planning a summer trip to Europe and, as usual, our first source for travel info is Rick Steves guidebooks and videos. We learned in preparing for our trip to Italy last year that this is a great series of travel guides with humor and a famous “back door” approach to tourism that focuses on helping people experience the wonders of the old country without spending a fortune. It also doesn’t hurt that Steves is an articulate and thoughtful progressive with a conscience. I can’t imagine this is always good for his business, seeing that many of his clients are likely to be rich Republican Americans who are likely to boycott his services when they discover the shocking ideas he doesn’t mind sharing. Among these is that

    The greatest risk to our society today is not Islamo-fascist terrorism, but the people who use that term to scare us.

    read more…

    Jane Fonda. Every Spaceman’s Dream Woman.

    byronius, 2006/05/02 

    Barbarella is still one of the coolest films ever made, and Jane Fonda is still the quintessential SpaceNerd’s Ideal Mate. Fr’instance, let’s say the aliens kidnap you like in Slaughterhouse Five, and put you in the big bubble house, and ask you who would you like to mate with for the rest of your life.

    Yeoman Rand? Mmm. O.K. Jennifer Lopez? Naw. Well. Maybe. But — Jane Fonda? OMG. Of course. I fall down. Beautiful, smart, real, talented. But could she maybe wear the costume?

    Serious questions, these.

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