Sunday, October 31, 2021

 

All Hands on Deck

The approach of the storm that some have warned about, some have closed their eyes to and denied, and many have only recently looked into the sky to see, looms closer every day. The pace of events is accelerating, and we are past the point where taking to the streets to demonstrate and protest is on its own an adequate first step. We may need to make our disquiet known, even our anger in some circumstances, but we need as urgently to develop our voices for many positive purposes, and to cooperate with others in the grand business of envisaging a happier future and planning the steps to get there.

Like many, I still believe in the vision, determination and ingenuity of humans to get us out of this immediate mess, provided that we are not already past a major tipping point we have failed to recognize. I have little faith in capitalism and its processes, which are the dominant ways of our dealing with the resources of this world, nor do I believe much in our current political leaders, nor in our systems of informing the general public, nor the giants of social media that bind the communities of interest together, nor the frail international and transnational structures that at present are the only counterbalance to the forces of greed, narrow parochialism and atavistic darkness.

As an albatross worn around my neck, this disillusionment is often quite powerful and comprehensive enough to stifle me. However, I do believe in the human capacity for optimism against the odds, and in the irrational hope I seem to specialize in, which strikes when things are heading towards the worst. In my “Little Book” I suggest a collective planning mechanism, a flexible system of constantly refreshed ideas and group decision-making that would produce a rapidly forward-moving agenda. This suggestion would constitute one step towards a genuine “participatory democracy”, where the line between electors and representatives disappears, the one making the other irrelevant.

I am still little hazy on the details, especially when it comes to completely secure and reliable electronic communications, but the idea is simple: the citizenry listens to and weighs up arguments before voting on government measures for the common good. Every voter participates from home or some other convenient place. You could vote on your phone. While there remains an executive and civil service, the legislature becomes essentially virtual, a true mass assembly. This kind of immediate or “participatory” democracy has never before been possible in societies larger than small tribal groups, but it is within our reach now.

Participatory democracy is therefore possible in the near future, but we do not have it yet. And when to comes to action, to “All hands on deck”, the present is what we have, and at present we are stuck with the ramshackle collection of nations, institutions, companies, organizations and mechanisms we have now, in 2021.

Movements which begin outside the normal tracks are commonly called “grassroots.”Any movement that starts anywhere else is an overweening bid for power. We are grass first, and our roots are where anything good should begin. I am proposing a forum called “All Hands on Deck”, specifically aimed at the young as well as adults in general, for any humans to have a voice in the promulgation of ideas and reports on action at all levels in response to the crisis upon us. I shall go into this more in my next commentary.

October 30th. thoughts

I wrote this last year - the weather was a little different and the moon was keeping its own timetable, but I hope this doesn't matter too much among friends  Tomorrow's works whatever the weather.
Richard

OCTOBER 31st. (2020)

Last night - Halloween 'Een 

Twice in a blue moon 

That bony old disk up there 

Sails in perfection 

Deeper and deeper 

Swimming down the atmosphere 

Searching for firm ground 

I walk under the sky. 

The brilliance of sun echoes 

Picks out my footsteps 

Pools of blue darkness 

Shadow the edges of my path 

Soak up my plain sight 

At a stately pace 

Lining the bright stepping stones 

Ghosts, ghosts following


-
Virus-free. www.avg.com

Saturday, October 23, 2021

A sharper night sky

October 23rd.

Star sparks at its heels
The moon casts sharp-edged shadows -
Fall bite in the air

(That's the last of the triptych)

Virus-free. www.avg.com

A very different night


Peering through the mist
Above the dripping forest
The moon, glimmering
--

Virus-free. www.avg.com

Tamworth 2.56 AM, October 21st.

Moon rising high, clear,
Slowly beams down the silence.
Earth locked in stillness

Saturday, October 16, 2021

Space Travel for All


Space Travel for All

(William Shatner has taken a brief trip into the threshold of space at the age of 90.)


Mr.Shatner, I am unimpressed.

There are some things one does not have to do in the flesh.

I have gone before you, through the blue to the black. It is a beautiful, awe-inspiring, sobering, lonely, heart-wrenching thing to do.

The human mind, of which I have a functioning but not exceptional example, possesses a power of the imagination that renders a few expensive minutes on the threshold of space a self-indulgent unnecessary luxury.

I am struggling to try to employ this mind of mine, an improvable faculty, my starting point.

The majority of people in the world are still living in circumstances which they find familiar enough so that they are not driven to panic. Not today.

But today we learn that at the global level we have totally failed to curb our carbon emissions so far.

Most of us perceive the planetary environmental crisis to be in its early stages. This is not true, but we are simultaneously inundated with information concerning the crisis and besieged by a sense of unreality because of the means through which we are informed.

I need to learn how to use my powerful imagination to see through overabundant information and over-complexity in the same way I can leap into space without wasting precious resources. I can train myself, but education from others can help.

I put down my pen, step outside, and in my mind rise glorious into the sky. I possess the most powerful spaceship on Earth, the human brain. We certainly need this perspective as we struggle to keep the planet habitable.


--

Saturday, October 9, 2021

At Home with Odin


At Home with Odin


It's morning,

A bright sun rising, clear sky.

Hugin and Munin are ready

The world beckons

Off to school I like to think,

Eager, tireless, off on their lonely flights,

My children, the best of me scanning the Earth.

My one eye lacks perspective,

I have no depth perception

I'm not what I was, hunting for meaning,

One just gets by.


Right side, left side of the brain:

What can I make of this flat map,

Can never make a true projection?

Cannot reconcile the images that circle

Looking for a way to make sense

To shape a picture from the cues

The facts to shape to truth.


So off they go, my brave ones,

My gleaming black sky riders

Pure purpose, unerring

To the end of the world

And back for supper

Unscathed, to give the news. 

--

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

The Common Good


Commentary: The Common Good

Rather than make this a philosophical analysis and exploration of the concept, this piece is concerned with the United States and how the common good is understood and accepted in varying degrees among different populations and cultures in the country.

A recommended background book is the excellent "American Nations" by Colin Woodard , "a history of the eleven regional cultures of North America." In it, Woodard argues that the original European settlers in many parts of North America often arrived as groups with cultures steeped in histories of oppression, marginalization and exploitation by elites and governments in the lands from which they came, which made them natural frontier-dwellers and individualists. This applied especially to the White settlers in "Greater Appalachia" who became very important in creating a broader "national" culture from Appalachia into their territories of expansion, especially in the southern Midwest and in Texas. Their natural opponents, who had other adversaries for different reasons, were the Yankees, whose influence spread from the narrow-minded Massachusetts Bay theocracy far into the Mid-West, and eventually the Far (Coastal) West as well. Of the eleven Nations, only the Yankees and the Native Americans could be said to have a strongly-developed sense of their overarching societies and the paramount "Common Good" that dominated their ideas as to how they should order and govern their communities . The others were either individualistic to the point of anarchy, or had authoritarian and predatory elites at the tops of pyramids of exploitation of discriminated class- and/or racist- lower orders.


Tribalism has always dominated American society. The tribes may appear to be different from their originals, geographically dispersed and often hidden or unacknowledged, but they persist nonetheless. In his book Woodard makes two major, connected points, that to an extraordinary degree the original settlers in most areas left an indelible mark on the culture of that part of the US right up to the present day, and that this mark can still serve as a predictor of the political leanings of that area's population, even now. So much for the melting pot and supposed national identity. Some find that Woodard overstates his case, but it is powerfully persuasive.

From the viewpoint outlined above, then, it is not surprising that seventy million eligible Americans remain unvaccinated in October 2021, or that the Republicans have a firm "Base" of mostly poorly educated lower-income supporters who are eager to support a party run by rich white men who seek to serve their own selfish interests at the expense of everyone else. Trump is a member of that group, with an extra dimension of extraordinary populist genius. This large tribal group is so easily exploited, especially when manipulated by modern media so savvy in the ways of stirring up fear, hated and existing insecurity. The world according to Fox, many other channels and a huge section of the internet, once entered tends to be the entire source of information, the true, skewed, and the rank lies. Goebbels would weep with envy at the sweeping power and effectiveness of it.

For the tribes caught in this web, the "Common Good" smells of Big Government, the high-spending Democrats, taxation and attacks on "Freedom." They are constantly reminded that the same lot are out to "take our guns away" and allow "Our" women, and even those Gays and other deviants, to have license to kill our babies and generally act immorally. I wish I was exaggerating; alas, for about a fifth of the current electorate, I am not. I will need another time to explore possible ways out of this quagmire. I believe that there are ways, but worry about the timescale.

Richard







--

Time - and Time again

Wild time pads softly,
Parallels my walk: glimpses
Among the shadows

Tamed time on a leash
Steadily pulls us onward,
Our fates intertwined

--

A Poem for October and the long nights ahead


The Wild Hunt of the Skies


In the woods the quiet day settles

Dry leaves restless

Wind-whispered twigs and branches

Twilight creatures watching, waiting.

Over the mountains the storm threatens

Each layer a rise of elemental being

Till high, high in the darkening sky

In the clear cold thinning air

The faintest sound of trumpets

Shrill, shrill, a galloping of sound

Begins to finger-circle the porcelain dome

To raise the note that carries the tune.

The far-off beating of the drums

Begins, a giant heart's quickening pulse

But drums or hooves? You cannot tell -

A tempest of shadows gathering

A lance of darkness over the forest

Drawing a curtain over the canopy

Shuttering the brightening moon.

And then we see them,

The horsemen howling and shouting to the night

Their mounts wild-eyed, foaming

The hounds baying

The trumpets, the drums,

The beating of paws and hooves on empty air,

The ecstasy, the dark purpose

The speed reckless, the abandon, the savagery -

It is the wild hunt of the skies

The ancient ride of feral souls

It batters the horizon, and is gone.

And the silence of catharsis fills the woods.


--