I'm a fan of the "ready-made" post, so here's something I wrote for a food storage email list I'm on.  A new person on the list posed the question of why we are pursuing such extreme versions of food stockpiling, rather than the more traditional "emergency stores" version of food storage (you know, have enough food for a 3 days and water for a week version?).  Well, here's my response.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised myself I was going to go sit on the couch and read a magazine.

I have been thinking a lot about poverty, and cycles of poverty, and the complexity of social issues, and handouts, and the libertarian responses, and all kinds of similar things, due to an email list I'm on.  I've been in a protracted discussion with a Libertarian there, arguing the progressive side myself.  At any rate, someone brought up the systemic nature of poverty, and I replied with some of my own thoughts.  I'd been wanting to post something about this for awhile anyway, so I thought I'd repost my reply here.  Read it if you care to.

Maybe a week ago, a True Believer in the Power of Nuclear Energy found hir way onto Sharon Astyk's blog, and raised a bit of Nuculer-powered hell (over 100 comments on that blog post--wow).  Besides being a bit of a condescending twit (okay, a lot of a condescending twit), s/he was at least making some reasonably well-argued points.  S/He'd thought about the situation carefully.  And s/he'd come out the other end a "no matter what problem you could possibly come up with, nuclear will Save The Day!"  I spent some time this morning in bed arguing with this person in my head, which meant that I wasn't sleeping, which meant that I was getting cranky.  But I think I've decided that this person is deluded at best, and possibly an industry shill at worst.  Behind the cut are my ruminations on nuclear power.

(Okay, this is a bit psycho, but this is a comment that Brian made on otterkin's blog which I liked so much that I copied & pasted it here.  Someday I might let him have his own blog... maybe once he gets tenure.)

I complain to Casaubon's Book a lot about plans for coping with the coming problems that involve the "political will fairy." As in there simply isn't enough political will to get hard things done yet. (BTW if you don't know about Sharon Astyk and Casaubon's book they are awesome.)

But the good news is that crisis is where political will, unity, and concern for the common good come from in the historical cycle. After decades of partisanship and everyone pulling for there little factions, as things get bad, people start working together and valuing the common good and sacrificing for the collective. As things get bad political will, will return.

Oliver Stone is a boomer's boomer, but is brilliant nonetheless, and Wall Street is one of his masterpieces. In it the wise old broker, the ethical good-guy father figure who serves as a foil for Gordon Greco the evil substiture father, speaks in wise epigrams. Just before the kid is about to be arrested he says "Man looks into the abyss, and there he finds his character." America is looking into the abyss. And we will find poverty, and risk, and hard times. But we will also find our long lost character, our higher ideals, our best selves. As the non-essential is stripped away by hardship we will experience "return to essentials." Oh I have plenty of despair, but I have plenty of hope too, and reading of past crises, intensifies both.

OK Jedimomma has asked me, JediDaddy to do a brief over view of basic Strauss-Howe Theory.  Neil Howe was a demographic historian/economist, and William Strauss was an activist, comedian, playwright.  They worked together on a history of the anti-vietnam war movement looking and generational issues, and wound up with a general theory of generations in Anglo-American history, (with ties to other theories too).  The early version was a book called generations in 1991, the mature version was called The Fourth Turning in 1997 and is brilliant.  They wrote a few books on specific generations too, like Gen 13: Abort, Retry, Fail, Ignore with is profound, theoretical, applied, hilarious and infuriating.  I haven't read Millenials go to college yet.

The basic idea is that there is a fourfold cycle of generational types, linked to the kind of historical phase that they "come of age" in (say 15-35 ish).

So, yesterday someone on my f-list posted a link to an LJ post about conceal carry laws--where anyone can register to carry a concealed weapon.  (The post is here, incidentally.)  This got me thinking.  A lot.  Actually, I lost a fair amount of sleep and should've just gotten out of bed to write this last night so I  could've gotten some sleep.  Ah well.  Behind the cut are my reflections on conceal carry laws, if you care.

So try this sometime when you've got a couple of weeks of undedicated reading.  Check out from the library "The Earth is Flat" from Thomas Friedman (but for the love of god, do not buy it).  Read it, and revel in the uber-capitalism-saving-the-world-again attitude of the author as he interviews CEOs on golfcourses throughout India and China, revealing the wonders of open markets and their magical reworking of these countries economies.  Immediately after finishing (or at least, getting as far as you can through) "Flat", go and either check-out or buy "Hope's Edge" by Lappe (a continuation of "Diet for a Small Planet").  Remarkably, this book takes place in the same countries as Friedman's book, but somehow I think they must've had different tour booking agents or something.  In "Flat" Friedman waxes lyrical about the highly sought-after tech support jobs available in India, the 200 carefully selected hires that Dell recently made this year for their next cadre of tech trainees and the wonderful, open-market sponsored life they're about to embark upon.  Lappe, on the other hand, seems to be concentrating on the 19,800 other Indian applicants who were not selected for the Dell jobs, who have to return to their small villages and dying growing fields now decimated by drought and the lasting effects of the "Green Revolution"--the Monsanto-led charge to "modernize" native planting practices.  Now their ground is sterile, the pests are all resistant to any of the -cides they try, the seeds are sterile and patented, and they are 3-years income in debt trying to chemical their way back out of this hole.  Small organizations, highlighted in Lappe's work, are trying to re-teach these people their own old ways of planting--you know, the ones that worked, but it's slow going, and Monsanto returns every year with a new, more toxic, often bioengineered quick-fix that will solve all their problems.  At least, until the relevant pest develops resistance and the price of the new technique/spray/seed/whathaveyou has tripled.  Really, reading these two books back-to-back is quite an experience.  I keep wanting to photocopy bits of the Lappe book and send them to Friedman with a post-it note attached asking "Did you meet any of these people?"

Yeah, try this while reading Alan Moore's "Watchmen" interspersed between them if you really want whiplash.

And for a more, shall we say "balanced" picture of globalization than the one offered by Friedman, try anything from Stiglitz.  He rocks.

R.

As I stand over a boiling pot of really nasty turkey innards, celery and onion, I feel compelled to ask--why am I doing this?   As a Unitarian Universalist, I have been regaled of late (with increasing levels of... er... "alacrity") that I ought not forget the point of this holiday.   This holiday celebrates the open-season on a whole population of people; a glorification of genocide; a feast of death.  It does?  The atrocities of my own American-forged historical education notwithstanding, and Lord knows I was not always the most attentive student, I did not get that memo in 6th grade while making handprint turkeys and listening to Adam Sandler wax rhapsodic on the radio (okay, I've got to be mixing up my years here).  I always thought the point of Thanksgiving--the original one, not necessarily the one today--was a bunch of people coming together in genuine fellowship.  Whatever may have happened before, and certainly happened after, that first feast, we should not lose sight of what in fact happened AT that first Thanksgiving.  People of different cultures, different skills, beliefs, priorities, pretty much different everything, sat down together for a meal.  How easy is that to do?  They came together to celebrate a harvest, to give thanks to each other and to their various dieties for the gifts they had received.  The first Thanksgiving was a day we should all strive to emulate every day of our lives, and having a once-a-year reminder doesn't hurt, either.  Should we wallow in guilt, perhaps give up on this holiday altogether, because of the horrors that followed?  I would say no.  We should cling to this holiday like never before, because never before has the message of Thanksgiving been more important.  Don't let atrocities obscure one of the genuine, bright, shining moments in our nation's history.  We should never forget the damage that has been done, but we should equally never forget the good that was done. 

Ah well.  I'm still gonna cook a turkey, and some stuffing, and green beans (oh blessed green beans!), and sweet potatoes, and cranberry sauce, and gravy, and rolls, and whipped cream with a little bit of pumpkin pie on the side!  And I will do so, partially out of familial duty, partially because I like to cook, and partially, as Samwise Gamgee said, "Because there's some good left in this world, and it's worth cooking for."  Or something to that effect.

Ian has removed all of the silverware from the utensil drawer.  Back to reality.

R.

Today was a nice day.  Pretty non-descript.  Got up, made banana-pumpkin pancakes (those worked!  who'd'a thunk it? Cardamom is the secret!).  Went to church, sold beaucoup chocolate bars, cocoa & coffee to the awaiting masses.  Had a nice afternoon.  Kids napped well, made banana bread (having a banana-intensive day).  Made black bean soup and cheesy biscuits for dinner; Alex even ate reasonably well.  Kids took bath, mom called and made a failed attempt to guilt her way into our plans for Thanksgiving (hah!).  Soon kids will go to bed, and it will be me, Brian, and a container of egg-nog ice cream... yeah.

Thanksgiving musings:  I cannot find a non-pre-brined turkey anywhere in this town.  I'd given up for dead any hope of finding a free range turkey, but I can't even find an "unenhanced" one.  Now, I'm not a big opponent of pre-brined, or "enhanced" turkeys in principle.  In essence, the processors are saving us a step.  But I like to do it myself.  It's one less step of processing that is done elsewhere, and I'm a total control-freak when it comes to my kitchen.  I don't even (usually) buy salted butter, not because salt is evil, but because I want to decide how much salt is in my food, thank you very much.  Ah well.  Some of the farmer's market people who had livestock this year said that next year they might try to do turkey, which would be absolutely awesome. 

When I was in Idaho the prof I taught for was a great guy who is scottish and vegan, and married to a nice american lady.  When he found out that they would be hosting thanksgiving one year, he launched into this tangent about "Oh yeah, that'll be jus greeeeat!  We can do a maybe Asian theme, and we could maybe have sauteed string beans, and I know this great dish of marinated tempeh with a sesame glaze and a... and... er... uh-oh."  He tailed off as he noticed his wife standing, arms crossed, staring coldly at him.  She took in a deep breath, and said "This is THANKSGIVING.  We will be having MASHED POTATOES.  And GREEN BEANS.  And STUFFING...."  I think he realized at that point that he had stepped on some invisible, previously unknown yet deeply held cultural need of americans to have stuffing at least once a year. 

R.

Random Thought:  War is Peace. Ignorance is Strength. Freedom is Slavery. Bush is President.

So earlier today I was working on one of the lesser-known Federal Superfund toxic sites--that is, our kitchen the day after gaming.  Given the extraordinarily hazardous nature of this activity, I was put in mind of the many perspectives surrounding environmentalism and sustainability.  I was, as usual, using a bleach-water solution for much of my cleaning.  I recalled being lectured (politely) by a well-meaning woman about the dangers of bleach, and just how much damage I was probably doing to my family.  She gave me a helpful, explanatory brochure with her contact info on it, and asked me to read it.  Sure, I thought. 

This is from the brain of my dearly beloved husband, and I think it's just abso-frickin-lutely brilliant.  I'm not even sure I agree with him yet, but it is a damned good thing to think about.  Read it.

R.

(This is quickly turning into a series of posts.  To see the first post in this series, click here.)

So, the first thing to say here is, HOLY CRAP MY FATHER ACTUALLY KILLED SOMETHING!!!  My father went hunting, and successfully felled a deer.  We never really thought that was possible.  In fact, the running theory was that he was actually going out to protect the deer (alerting them to the presence of other, more adept hunters by firing wildly into the air).  But no, he has now three times in his life killed a deer.

The main thing occupying my thoughts on my trip to see family was an odd conversation I'd had awhile ago with a friend.  I mentioned to her that I would soon be doing labor support for a mutual friend who's due soon, and then in March for another friend T.  My friend hadn't realized that T was pregnant, and then asked "doesn't she already have 3 kids?"  Yes, she does.  "Huh.  Why would a Pagan want to have a lot of kids?" she asked.  Now, she was not being at all confrontational or judgmental about this, just more genuinely curious and bemused.  But the question really caught me off guard.   I fumbled what was doubtlessly a poor answer, but on my 3 hour car ride, I began to ponder that question.