Tannishblog

Today is the 45th anniversary of John Glen’s historic orbital flight. Thus the era of the space race began in earnest. Although I was barely walking at the time, I have memories of America’s quest for space as a heady, optimistic time of positive change. I miss those days.

So does NASA. Unveiling a plan for future human space flights at NASA.gov, NASA resurrects the ghost of Saturn V in the new Ares I vehicle to be completed as the ailing and failing space shuttle is retired in 2010. The 1960’s Saturn V program, nixed by President Nixon, allowed a launching capacity more than five times greater, a developmental cost 25 percent lower and a build-and-operate cost less than half of that of today’s space shuttle. Ares will boast a 40 percent increase in Saturn’s payload at a lower cost than the present shuttle missions.

Such cost savings allows the perpetual dreamers at NASA to envision a permanent, self-sustaining moon base by the year 2025 to serve as an outpost for further robotic studies of places beyond. I’m dreaming right along with them.

Do I hear scoffing and catcalls from the peanut gallery?

It is the nature of astrophysicists and rocketry engineers to be optimistic and perhaps a little reckless, as it is for politicians to vacillate between pessimism and pragmatism. My jaded voice is betting on the politicians to wreck the dream before it’s realized. I pray I’m wrong.

Humanity need to explore space. We are fighting for dwindling resources, expending unthinkable sums on destruction and wasting Gross National Product on expendable war materiel. As the NY Times reports in NASA Goes Deep, the US is currently spending $9 billion per day on Iraq, while a Saturn rocket would cost $29 billion in inflation-adjusted dollars. That’s a new rocket every few days.

Let’s get our priorities straight: If a few capable humans would take our wondering nature, our exploratory and, yes, imperialistic tendencies, and point them outward, the balance of humanity can live on Terra peacefully within the geopolitical boundaries already established. It wouldn’t solve our aggressive stances, our greed or bloodlust, but it would go a long way toward removing Earth from the aftereffects of mankind’s penchant for wanton destruction. I for one would support bankrupting our nation for intra-solar expansion. There, our future lies; here, only our self-destruction

John Glen didn’t live to see his dream of space colonization realized. Perhaps his grandchildren will.

UPDATE: My invisible friend Jack informed me of my stupidity: The good John Glen is still alive! (see comments) I’m going to soak my head now… That’s what I get for blogging from the office.

My love of books sometimes shows up in the oddest ways. For example, I’m fascinated by book censorship. It’s hard for me to imagine in this world of violence, misogyny, greed and global domination that people get all screwed up over a single word in a kid’s book.

New York Times’ Book section details the latest controversy between the Sophisticates and the Prudes in the world of children’s literature. This year’s Newberry Award winner, The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron, dared to include a provocative word in a scene where the protagonist, a 10-year-old named Lucky, eavesdrops upon a alcoholic recovery group. Having such a group featured in a children’s book is not the issue, just the utterance of one word - scrotum - lights the fires of book burning in areas most susceptible to literary blazes. As the NY Times quotes:

Ms. Nilsson, reached at Sunnyside Elementary School in Durango, Colo., said she had heard from dozens of librarians who agreed with her stance. “I don’t want to start an issue about censorship,” she said. “But you won’t find men’s genitalia in quality literature.”

“At least not for children,” she added.

I marvel at the contradictions inherent in such thinking. If a caring soul looks after "the best interests" of children whole heartedly, focusing on one small aspect of a society’s influence is futile. Once censorship begins, where does it lead? Where is the line that clearly denotes what is right for a child to learn? That’s rhetorical, of course, there isn’t one.Who besides parents are appropriate to make that call?  If a ten-year-old is to learn a word describing a part of the male anatomy that is considered uncouth in conversation, where best to discover it? If not in a book, then where is the child likely to learn if it? From a bad-mouthing teenager?

Perhaps the self-appointed moralists should consider the alternative to exposing prickly subjects within a literary context. The matter-of-fact discovery of words like scrotum in a story educates without the baggage of judgmental connotations usually associated with learning such words on the proverbial street. This is a Good Thing! If teachers, librarians and especially parents are uncomfortable defining the word when little Jennifer asks, then gently suggest a dictionary. And shame on all of you for lacking the balls to answer her question outright.

Chicago got it’s yearly Big Snow last night. For over 30 house a powdery snow fell sideways in a gusty breeze. Parts of my driveway was bare, parts were 18" deep. My snow blower barely chugged through the deeper parts, and as it did the wind gleefully redistributed the blast right back at me.

Not only do I care for my own 70+ feet of driveway, I look after that of my neighbor lady. So, for an hour after dark, as the wind and snowfall lessened, I pushed a growling perambulator and spat snow into the breeze.

I came in afterward, stamped my feet in the hall and shouted, "Look! I’m a Bumble." The Abominable Snowman had arrived, black clothing caked as well as eyebrows and beard.

I like snow. Shoveling is only a chore these days because of decaying spinal discs, but I’d still rather wield a shovel than the snow-eater. This morning as I set out before dawn, I managed to clean the inch-or-so tag-end accumulation off my drive in twenty minutes. I’ll do the neighbor’s when I get home.

I've been trolling this week anything I find regarding Windows Vista. As part of a postpartum depression for dropping a chuck of money for what is essentially two DVD's (one of which is actually used,) I subconsciously gravitate to the I Hate Windows crowd. Most I could ignore, but one message in particular stood out because the word Zen is prominent in the blog's title. So I click to find out why Leo Won't Be Switching to Vista.

I feel bad, but I trolled him a bit about his attitude. Read the comments. To his credit, he was good-natured about it. Kudos for that.

It got me thinking: The whole computer operating system debate, Windows v Mac v Linux, is really about people's expectations. In fact the way people interact - or don't - with computers is about their expectations of the computing experience.

I'm old enough to remember Tandy's TRS-80, the first truly mass market personal computer. Several other quickly followed, but the early adapters had mixed feelings about these trendy new gadgets. Some people didn't mind learning a few tricks to use them, some were turned off by that.

Later, When the big OEM's emerged, marketing madmen were learning how to sell people on the concept of buying a machine that a person needs to learn how to use. Even today, that issue is being wrestled. These companies took a page out of the automotive industry and began sell their brand, then following up on the details of the tech. Imagine a typical conversation between neighbors:

"Is that a new car in your driveway?" One guy says leaning over the fence for a better look.

"Yep," came the reply, barely hiding pride.

"Looks nice. What kind is it?"

"It's a Jaguar."

No more needs saying. Neighbor number two has arrived. it's unlikely anyone will out-status this guy soon. Dell computers wanted that same dynamic to work for their brand: you went out and bought a Dell, not a Pentium III, 1.5 gigahertz with 512 mb RAM and a Radeon graphics card. But computers are not cars. They can't be sold like any previous product. In fact, there is no "one good way" to sell computers. that's why some sell software foremost; some sell the glitz. Some sell the whole package, and some prefer the components. It all depends on consumer expectation.

Many people, uninterested in the minutia of machinery, just want to take the thing home and plug it in like their TV. After all, it looks like one. (But computers never got as simple to use as a television set. As time progressed, the TV became more like a computer. Today, there's many more connections to be made on your new widescreen than "back in the day".)

Mac users seem to me to be in that category: Just turn the thing on and use it. As response, Apple's software gurus have consistently lead the way to more a intuitive User Interface. Microsoft (and everyone else) has forever played catch-up.

At the other end of the spectrum, the digital equivalent of grease monkeys embraced the hardware itself. To them, software was just what you did when the thing was assembled to prove how well it was built. They gravitated toward command-line programming languages that eventually lead to UNIX and Linux. In terms of point-and-click, these systems, while technically elegant, were way behind the ease-of-use trend.

Fast forward to today, and the two camps still stand between the same lines drawn in the proverbial sand. "That product sucks, this one's great." The truth lies somewhere in between, as truth is wont to do. All operating systems have flaws. The same can be said for all products created by humans. There are Pro's and Con's to, well, anything I can think of.

In terms of computers and human interface software, what you prefer depends largely on how you intend to use it, but also upon what you're willing to put up with. If you're looking for a stable, secure platform, Linux rules. If you want style, simplicity and artistic licence, Mac is your choice. If you want general business and communication, media and entertainment - read: games - "Hello, Microsoft".

Increasingly, the computer is becoming central to our lifestyles. It's only natural to assume it will become a central appliance in our households. Microsoft is ahead of that curve, wisely so. We can only guess what our grandchildren will expect out of their computing experiences. But expectations will continue to drive the industry.

I get my horoscope every day in an email, perhaps a residual habit from the seventies. I don’t take is too seriously, yet I sometimes get a kick our of it. Today’s message, however is weirdly prescient.

You need to dare to invite kindred spirits into your life, T[annish]. While your Scorpio nature makes you hesitant to participate in group activities, your interest in politics and philosophy would make you an ideal member of organizations devoted to these causes. What is holding you back? Are you afraid of being absorbed by the group? Only by taking a risk will you be able to fully participate in life.

For years I’ve build up a cocoon, armor against the harsh world. Only in the last few years have I opened up. Still, I’m very much the hermit. I keep very few people in my life. Anyone who frequents here will agree with the assertion of my interest in philosophy and politics (call the latter a morbid curiosity.) Finally, for the past year or so, I’ve entertained occasional thoughts of the previously unponderable: Joining a political grass roots campaign.

If I took horoscopes seriously, I would march out right now and do just that. But I don’t. This will make me ponder the issue further today, that’s all. Is it serendipity, or coincidence?

Here I am, driving to work in a wintry pre-dawn darkness. It snowed about an inch last night. My route to work, chosen for it’s relatively long stretches without traffic lights, is through Chicago’s north suburbs where street lamps are sporadic. While navigating westward through the first unlit, woodsy stretch, a black beast with livery license plates sloshes rapidly past.

I am instantly blinded by tire spray.

My car is still cold; the windshield wipers are stiff. They smear the salty slush across the glass. I’m traveling at 42 mph on an unlit, four-lane road with no divider. Headlamps from eastbound traffic provide backlighting for the rapidly freeze-drying crust before me. My view is now opaque. A frantic pull at the lever rains glass cleaner which, after four desultory swipes of the wiper blades, freezes into thin, crystal star-bursts across the glass. I bob my head, seeking the perfect angle to peer through the uneven frosting.

A couple of miles later in the next suburb, the road crews slept late. Actual white-stuff covers the roads where tires don’t tread. I find myself approaching a red light behind a Nissan Titan, its rear bumper level with my eyebrows exposing the rear axle and universal joint cowling that looks as attractive as a man whose genitals has escaped his swim trunks. the truck takes off, anticipating the light, and again my car is inundated. Apparently, mud flaps are just for show.

Automobile tire technology has refined over the years; a car’s contact with a wet surface is engineered to displace as much water as possible, creating secondary precipitation of fine mist over roadways. Snowfall collects particulate matter in the air and dirt on the roadways. Along comes the orange DOT trucks spreading their love in crunchy cubic crystals. Road salt melts the snow into a dirty mixture, and tire tracks atomizes the mess resulting in a mixture not unlike sea spray. The coating on your beloved vehicle becomes several molecules thicker, clinging like barnacles.

I’m awake now, and cursing. Not at the speeding pickup or its driver, but at the dangers of road salt. I hate the stuff. I can’t believe a society so proud of its scientific acumen can’t think of a better way to remove snowfall. No matter your speed of travel, being blinded on the road is dangerous.

Americans are entertainment junkies. Life and its myriad aspects are commodities we sell to each other packaged in as much glitz and fanfare as possible. "Sell the sizzle, not the steak," the marketing adage reminds us. We are tuned to it at as early an age as possible. Brand awareness begins at age two when your toddler, safely ensconced in her Bugaboo Frog, points a chubby finger at a familiar red-and-yellow logo.

"McDonalds," she cries.

She has associated the Paradigm of Americana with things of great interest to a child: Yummy, Toys, and Fun; peak experiences carefully tailored to foster an early addiction to whatever-makes-the-body-happy. Two years old, and already on the way to an frustrated life of chasing the phantoms of instant gratification and fleeting pleasures, unaware of the impossibility of the Great American Hoax of Marketing, wherein we are subliminally fed the idea that we can sustain peak experiences indefinitely. We are trained to believe that such emotive events can only come from material, external sources.

We want something easy, something that has all the good and none of the bad, like decaffeinated coffee and sugar-free chocolate or fat-free ice cream. and we want it NOW! When we get what we order, we find the coffee bitter, the chocolate chalky, and the ice cream has a funny aftertaste. We want what the marketing says we’re buying, yet it fails to satisfy.  Modern marketing is the deformed offspring of Pavlov and Machiavelli. It is all lies.

But we don’t want to hear that.

What we are looking for is inner peace, but we don’t know that, or we refuse to acknowledge our shortcomings. America is supposed to "have it all," so it isn’t possible that there’s anything we need. Even if we did, we don’t know where to look. Most Americans don’t want to hear philosophy from beyond our borders. In our busy little lives we don’t want to hear about such weirdness as meditation - who has time to sit? Besides, zazen takes effort; we want life to be easy.

That’s the sizzle talking, the whispers of the marketing-marinated mind. As a culture, Americans absorb over 200 commercial images and messages per day. It is illogical to assume an immunity, or such a level of exposure has minimal impact on brain functioning and the development of synaptic structures. Scientists are just beginning to study the effects of mass media on sociology, physiology and psychology.

I think the effects are obvious. Wide and seemingly diverse social phenomena can be attributed to an overdose of sizzle: Outstanding debt, Attention Deficit Disorder and behavioral problems, depression and rage, a climbing divorce rate, even workplace stress can be accounted for as direct results of having assimilated the lies and misconceptions of promised benefits through commercialism and a consumer economy.

What they are selling you is not what you buy. The emotional triggers used by marketing firms to entice is nothing short of psychological manipulation. Our society is becoming neurotic as a result. In terms of lasting benefit of people, of our nation, of our culture, the sizzle fizzles.

You want fries with that?

I got a book over the holidays: John Lennon In His Own Words by Ken :Lawrence. It’s a nice but spare collection of quotes from a man I’ve always admired. One quote in particular made me climb out of the recliner to share with my wife.

"Our society is driven by neurotic speed and force, accelerated by greed and the frustration of not being able to live up to the image of men and women we have created for ourselves - an image which is nothing to do with the reality of people. How can we be [an] eternal James Bond or Twiggy and raise three kids on the side? So we pass our kids on to babysitters, nursery and high school teachers - three of the most underpaid positions in our society!…In such an image driven culture, a piece of reality like a child becomes a threat to our very false existence."

–first of a regular column written by John and Yoko,
Sundance magazine. April-May 1972.

Truth is timeless, isn’t it?

I was a bit too young to live Beatlemania. I came to musical awareness a couple years after the group disbanded. In sixth grade I met a guy named Paul who uncannily mimicked McCartney’s voice. Since then I cannot listen to "My Love" by Wings without hearing my friend Paul’s voice crack in the high parts. We both were of that age…He taught me a Liverpublian accent and we used to pretend to be John and Paul for a while. We both took up guitars, his left handed, and mimed to records and such. For me it was the last fling of childhood before the onset of puberty and all attendant complications. Some of the good memories, that.

Since then, I have gathered a modest collection of Beatle books and read them all. To my family, I’m a bit of an expert. I’ve taught myself guitar from their songbooks, learned songwriting from their example, enriched my life through such efforts. To hear their music, all I need is to concentrate, they’re stored forever in my synapses. As I typed the preceding sentence, "Anytime At All" cued up in my head… "All you gotta do is call / And I’ll be there…" As my daughter grew, I made sure to instill a love of Beatles in her heart. She’s collected all the British recording in CD, and I’m proud. A bit of a personal legacy she may share in her future. Let the music live on…

These days I don’t obsess anymore. It’s a gentle, mature kind of fandom, but John and his mates are still a part of me. Amazing, really - I never met him - how a single person can alter history, affect so many people and infect them with fond memories. It’s magic.

Barack Obama is getting a lot of traction lately. I’ve seen his name in print on election 2008 projections eight times already. His speeches are gathering crowds, and he make a lot of sense. People are liking what they hear from him.

I’m not the only one noticing. Twice this week CNN has linked the junior senator from Illinois with Middle Eastern baddies du jour Bin Laden,  Saddam Hussein and Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Some people don’t like the growing noise about the young senator. Now, the assassins are coming to the Obama party. His charisma and the rhetoric surrounding him are making people nervous, it seems.

As I continue to watch (with trepidation) the media circus we call politics in this country, I can’t help wondering if there really is a nefarious force hell-bent on the destruction of America from within. It sure looks that way. There are people in this country who will do anything to gain or remain in power. We’ve seen quite a lot of unscrupulous behavior from the Hill lately. After the resounding defeat of the Republicans last month, I can only guess that their tactics will get worse. Desperate tines and all that.

Regarding Obama, I am starting to get worried. I foresee a repeat of Bobby Kennedy in this Barack dude. I see a man whose relaxed style, charisma and message electrify a populace desperate for a hero, a media who’ll spin the whole thing out of control, and a resentful minority who will produce an assassin.

I’m too young to remember any details in the death of Bobby Kennedy, but I’m not too naive to think America has learned anything by that distant tragedy. I am jaded enough to anticipate a Southern Caucasian Christian taking down a black man every newspaper in the nation is linking with the presidency. I believe that racism in parts of this nation still represents attitudes fashionable one hundred years ago. Indeed, they’ve gotten worse lately.

I hope I’m wrong. I would like to believe in the transcendence of past ills and a progression of society that reflects an evolution of thought. Coming from a born-again Buddhist perspective, I hold out fervent hope that humanity will abandon its collective insanity someday soon, and begin to heal the myriad hurts afflicted upon itself. But I’m American enough to acknowledge that I’m not banking on it.

For all those Dittohead Righties out there who like to talk about the holy grail of "capitalism" and "free markets", a precautionary tale illustrating just how "free" a business man within an industry is these days. Not very.

"I had an awakening," the 64-year-old Dutch-born dairyman said. "It’s not totally free enterprise in the United States."

Or maybe it’s a belated reminder of how the 109th congress (RIP) may be known as the Best Congress Money Can Buy ™. Either way, the reality is that markets are owned in America. Owned things aren’t free at all…