To celebrate the glimmer of hope that is the Waxman-Markey bill to address global climate change (and the loss of biodiversity, economic stability, shorelines, etc. that will come with it), I bought more plants today.

Ok, that is not actually true. It was just a coincidence that today I was finally able to get to the 50% off sale at the Linder's popup a few miles north of my house. The garden is already pretty full, and I wasn't sure where I put be able to put these things, but I picked up: a coneflower, a gallardia, and packs of snapdragons, petunias, and poblano peppers. I still don't know what I'll do with the white petunias.

The coneflower and gallardia have been planted. There is a thin stretch of grass between the driveway and the neighbor's yard (with a chain-link fence). These were planted a few feet in front of two tree stubs. The roots of one (an American Elm that got the disease and thus got the ax a few years ago) got in my way a bit, but thankfully I had a troweling tool that was able to hack through and get me a big enough hole. I'll have to remember to put up pictures once they get bigger. In the meantime, how about the bleeding heart that keeps getting bigger every year (from mid-May)...

The op-ed, Is My Marriage Gay? in the New York Times (5/11/09), describes the unusual state of affairs surrounding marriages where one partner has legally changed gender after the marriage was recognized by the state. The country is patchworked with statutes and laws that make such a marriage anywhere from fully recognized to partially tolerated to anathema. And this makes no sense to me, except in recognizing that people are afraid of what they do not know. Well, go hug a transgendered person today (in person or virtually if that's what it takes). Get to know her or him.

Elements in the U.S. have been eager to make sure that only the right kinds of people can marry each other. This determination is based on "tradition" and religious belief. These should have limited or no role in governance. If "tradition" were allowed to define governance, we would still have blue laws that kept everything closed on Sundays; women would not be allowed into the voting booth; and African Americans would still be kicked to the curb in the North and enslaved in the South. Tradition is important: stare decisis when there is no reason otherwise. But when it comes to expanding freedoms and looking out for the well-being of all its citizens, governments should be willing to stand up against the oppression of a few and put tradition aside. To quote the Prof. Boylan's op-ed:

"Whether a marriage like mine is a same-sex marriage or some other kind is hardly the point. What matters is that my spouse and I love each other, and that our legal union has been a good thing — for us, for our children and for our community."

[this post is my hug :-)]

In February I began reading Rushdie's Midnight's Children — a strange sort of historical fiction —but a trip in early March inserted Orhan Pamuk's My Name Is Red before I could finish. Two things I've loved about Rushdie, at least in the two novels I've read: his use of the English language, and his ability to credibly, smoothly bend reality into an absurd yet moving other world. In these he is master. These are so clear that I won't dwell on them (ok, that's actually because my wife has the book up at work so I can't refer to it for examples).

Midnight's Children is the story of India — that is, of the modern state of India — seen through the rise and fall of four generations, and narrated by the third. It is a large and ancient land; naturally he cannot encompass it in even a long novel. Yet he does seem to touch on all the major developments. But then again, what do I know? I'm a Westerner. And so is he.

I wonder how that influences him? I wonder what this book would have become had it been written by someone directly living India's birth into modernity? Perhaps such a person could not exist. Perhaps no one from inside could have created such a story. Perhaps if someone did, it would have been too foreign for Western readers to appreciate. Maybe such a work exists, but the Western selection bias has precluded the possibility for it to be recognized as a masterwork.

Midnight's Children was an incredibly journey, well worth the time, but would have been better served had I not interrupted 80% through. It is large; it is challenging; it is beautiful. Ground Beneath Her Feet was the better novel of the two. Midnight's Children was more grand and magical, but less philosophical and less likely to send me to the dictionary. But Midnight's Children does not elicit from me the praise I gave to that other tale.

Friday morning I woke up after T. had already left for bird-watching. My left hand reached up under my pillow and felt another hand there. The other hand was unresponsive. I quickly remembered that T. had already left, and quickly started freaking out wondering whose arm it was. Tried to reach back with my right hand to feel what was there, but couldn't move the right arm. And then I got it -- that lifeless hand might have been my own. So sat up and flopped my dead-arm over let it wake up. Man was I spooked for a few seconds!

• Love and Rockets - So Alive
• Sisters of Mercy - My Lucretia
• The Cure - Charlotte Sometimes
• Joy Division - Dead Souls
• Echo & the Bunnymen - Killing Moon
• Bauhaus - Bela Lugosi's Dead

If a new law passed by Afghanistan's Parliament, and supported by its President (Hamid Karzai), is anything like the critics claim, then it is a sad day for women in Afghanistan. The document has not been published, but those who have read it –such as critical members of Parliament, and the United Nations Development Fund for Women –say that it will roll back women's rights to a state worse than under the Taliban. This should not be tolerated by the world agencies and governments that are supporting post-Taliban Afghanistan. Our governments and agencies must speak out against this deplorable law.

Cultural relativism is not without merit and meaning –but there should be nothing relative about the necessity of establishing equal rights for women and men. Indeed, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights makes it quite plain that the rights of women transcend borders and cultures:

"Whereas the peoples of the United Nations have in the Charter reaffirmed their faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person and in the equal rights of men and women and have determined to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom..."

Furthermore, Afghanistan's own constitution proclaims that "[t]he citizens of Afghanistan – whether man or woman – have equal rights and duties before the law."

At a time when the United States government in particular is revamping its Afghanistan strategy, including increases in the number of troops stationed in harm's way, it is increasingly important that the besieged women of that country (and increasingly Pakistan as well) not be "thrown under the bus" for expediency's sake.

Many in the U.S. have tenuously supported the Afghan war because of the terrible oppression of women in the prior regime. War is a terrible thing, not to be undertaken lightly, and not to be undertaken simply out of fear for one's own future safety. The war in Afghanistan has been seen as just because it gave back to women and girls opportunities for schooling, for lowering the veil, for entering public life –it gave them some measure of freedom and hope for more to come.

Until women are allowed their rightful place at the table, until they enjoy the rights and freedoms enjoyed by men, I fear that warfare in Afghanistan (with or without the U.S.) will be without end.

Got out to the car on Thursday morning, looked up into our postage stamp yard, and there was the retaining wall, in pieces in the yard. Extremely minor personal tragedy, or opportunity for growth and development? Both.

The retaining wall in summer of 2008

The retaining wall yesterday

We've been expecting this ever since we bought the house. The wall as seen in 2008 is as it was in 2005. Of course we were hoping it would fall to the next homeowner to fix it (pun not originally intended), as do all homeowners who are not expecting to spend more than a handful of years in a place. I suppose the freeze and thaw cycle finally did it in. What made it so bad? Terrible construction. Concrete blocks with no drainage equals high water pressure. Some of the worst damage was also caused by a tree that previous owners let grow up, which took me several years to kill.

The wall stretches about 40 feet, and was 3 feet at its highest point. There are a few tiers as the slope behind us evens out with the neighbors to the east, who have alley access. Only 17 feet fell over; the portion behind the garage is thankfully safe.

The shoddiness of the construction job was reinforced (pun intended) at every step of the clean up process. We got all the blocks moved away and started cleaning up the dirt. T. remarked that this felt like an archeological dig; as she pulled up the crushed solar light, I observed that this society must have worshipped light, and that we should look for evidence of an animal sacrifice (2 years ago there was a mouse skeleton near that light). Literally within minutes we realized that there was indeed a bone sticking out of the embankment. On further inspection, we found an entire skeleton, starting with a femur and a pelvis. Someone's pet.

Skeleton

The concrete blocks were ineptly reinforced, some with concrete, some with stones and mud, and a few with newspapers. Yes, newspapers. Keeping in the archeological mindset, I realized that I now had a tool for dating. Expecting something from the 50's, imagine my surprise when I saw a movie add for Barbara Streisand and Kris Kristofferson in A Star is Born: the wall is only 31 years old. Much of Hadrian's Wall is still standing more than 1,800 years later. Countless English peasant walls continue to keep sheep in the right pasture hundreds of years after they were built from stone pillaged from collapsed churches. Wall-building is not a new artform; how could this one be so terrible?

Well, the new bricks have just arrived, so time to wrap up this post with the coup de grâce: a partial burger wrapper with the words and visage of Mayor McCheese (camera was not outside at that point).

Picasa album

Labels can be useful. Obviously they can also become ridiculous and pigeon-hole us into camps of undeviating ideology. But if the usefulness is doubted, just think: which evokes the stronger reaction?

1. John, Paul, George, and Ringo, or
2. The Beatles

Option 1 is pretty darn recognizable, but doesn't option 2 just evoke more about history, sounds, artistry, etc? Hence the power of a label.

Over at WorldChanging, which I haven't been reading much for the last several months, editor Alex Steffen looks at labels in Bright Green, Light Green, Dark Green, Gray: The New Environmental Spectrum. Apparently he coined the term "bright green", and now he wants to make sure that it is well defined (my summary: environmentalism that believes sustainability can only be achieved through large-scale transformation).

Idealistically I fall more toward the bright green; that is what brought me to this site in the first place. In action I fall more into the light green. I've made a lot of small changes that make me "greener than thou" compared to most around me, but not enough to come close to sustainability. I'll do the easy work of bright green, i.e. writing letters and blog posts about needing a large-scale overhaul. I'll talk about it a bit. But since my actions are not yet leading me to a strong advocacy in the places where I can make a difference – in my faith community, in "volunteer groups", in my office – then I must admit that my efforts are a bit duller than my ideals. Assignment to self: determine a next step that can make my actions a little brighter. Perhaps Earth Day as excuse for advocacy at the office and/or local Baha'i community.

Many great points in the comments; I was particularly struck with mgrant reminding us that the reality of light green can easily become elitist because of the extra cost often involved (but that's not a reason not to be green).

Call me biased if you will, but I was rather impressed by the open letter (PDF) written by the Baha'i International Community (BIC) to the Prosecutor General of Iran last week. The BIC is the world wide Baha'i community's official representation at the United Nations. As you may have heard, the ad hoc group that helped arrange some of the affairs of the Baha'i community in Iran was arrested last year and the government is now talking about bringing them up on charges of espionage. The last time anything like this happened, those arrested were executed (and before that they were simply "disappeared").

The letter does not present any new defense of the Baha'is; rather it brings together succinct facts and rebuttals of each major plank of the (known) "reasoning" for the arrest of the seven Baha'is. Because Baha'is the world over are peace-loving, law-abiding citizens (you can't really be a Baha'i otherwise -- it is literally written into our religious laws), the Iranian government always has to fall back on ridiculous arguments such as spying for Israel (because our "headquarters" is in Haifa) and corrupting the beliefs of others.

The open letter directly addresses the ridiculous nature of these claims, for instance, by pointing out that the Baha'is are the most scrutinized people in the country, and thus could not possibly get away with spying. It also offers an excellent example of how to make a statement that is forthright, courteous, fact-based, and appeals to a common sense of humanity.

For more links and independent coverage, see Seven Iranians Charged With Spying for Israel in the Times "The Lede" blog (2/23/2009). I've also blogged about the situation of the Baha'is in Iran a few other times over the years:

• Ahmadinejad and the Baha'is of Iran
• A Faith Denied: The Persecution of the Baha'is of Iran
• Situation of Baha'is in Iran Covered in the New York Times
• Action Requested: 54 Baha'is Arrested in Iran

Thursday: takeoff from Minneapolis/St. Paul (MSP) around 2:00 PM (got there 11:30 AM). Fall asleep (short night's sleep, stayed up packing and awakened early for pre-fast breakfast). Wake up about 2:45 PM to announcement that we've received clearance to land at MSP. mm?? Fellow passengers relay explanation: backup electrical system shortage, but too much fuel weight to land safely, so we've been circling and now will attempt to land. Flight attendant informs us that fire trucks will be awaiting us but are not expected to be needed (they weren't).

By the time they're ready to fly again, connecting flight from Salt Lake to Oakland has already left. Options: stay in Salt Lake overnight or get direct flight to San Francisco at 9:15 PM. Finally leave MSP 9 hours after arrival, on the direct flight. Surprisingly, they were mostly relaxing and even productive hours: did some good reading, napping, e-mailing (deleted 400 messages!), conversation with my grandfather, half an hour of work, and a free dinner care of Delta.

I missed the last Bart at midnight, but thankfully the friend I'm staying with generously offers to come by the airport.

Click for direct link to Google

Friday (today): Stroll down to the Interfaith Chapel at the Presidio. No one home, that's okay. Marvelous, sunny, green morning. Did I say its green out there? Calla lillies in bloom. Wildflowers everywhere. American robins, Anna's hummingbirds, and song sparrows are calling (also seen: one northern mockingbird). Wend my way down to the organic Acre Cafe for a scone and coffee, then stroll through a small gallery of beautiful artwork, and downstairs to the United Religions Initiative (URI) office. Hang out for a bit, then stroll down to the Golden Gate Promenade. The map above does not show the foot path I took from Halleck (goes under the 101) across to the east of the end of Marine Dr. Slowly walked up that way, taking in the crisp sea air (chilly without a jacket, but far preferable to cold Minnesota with a coat!) and observing many species of birds. 

In the marsh, there were many gulls (ring-billed and western) and I think a brown pelican. Also coots, some sort of tern?, red-throated loon, greater scaup, and a single female red-winged blackbird. More hummingbirds. A great blue heron. American crows had been flying overhead, but I look up and realize that I'm finally face to face with a raven for the first time. It is calling quietly from 20 feet away (oddly quiet call, perhaps a youngster?). Not far along, I come up 10 feet away and gaze in wonder at another majestic Corvus corax. What a beak!

Then down to the Marine Sanctuary Visitor's Center (not terribly exciting). Small flock of white-crowned sparrows there. High-tail it back to the URI to join folks for lunch; we went down to the Jewish Community Center for excellent, though pricey, fare. And conversation about peace-building and the power of music. (I was with 2 facilitators of URI's Moral Imagination project and a member of the President's Council). Back to URI, hanging around chatting with folks for a bit, helping fold table tents for tomorrow's Circles of Light fundraising dinner (the raison d'être for my presence in SF).

Out to the Exploratorium. Realize it is too similar to the Science Museum of Minnesota, so continued around the Palace of Fine Arts (which is undergoing renovations; in the lagoon: lesser scaup, mallards, trumpeter swans, and gulls) and back to the Lombard Gate, where I am to meet someone tomorrow morning. Back to my friend's place. One hour later back down to Lombard Gate for dinner at the Curbside Taqueria, where I had a good Tex-Mex dinner of chicken enchiladas with rice and pinto beans (good thing I didn't have a burrito). Absolutely stuffed (there were complimentary chips & salsa too, which I cannot resist easily; much better than reviewers claim), I slowly made my way back to the house and the computer and here I am.

I contemplated going to the Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39, but I'm rather conservative about going out at night alone unfamiliar easy target? So here I'll stay. About 9 miles walking today, on a slightly-sprained knee, possibly the most since Amsterdam in 2007. Not much doing today: just fresh air, greenery, a few minutes with friends old and new (@URI), good exercise, terrific food, and few worries. I needed this.

complete photo album

"By the power of Greyskull, I have the power!"

Let's consider some alternatives, starting with my personal favorite:

A few more alternatives phrasings that would have adequately communicated the general idea:

1. By the strength of Greyskull, I have the power!
2. By the EMF of Greyskull, I have the power!
3. By the^Greyskull, I have the power!
4. var powerOfHeMan = pow(He-Man, Greyskull);
5. By the honor of Greyskull, I have the power!

That last one's kind of weak. <sarcasm>I guess that's why they had to give it to the "girl"</sarcasm>.

What about plot, characters, voice, etc.? All brilliant. The plot moves you at the right time; the reader is able to get into the characters’ heads and feel their highs and lows; there are many distinct voices – you’re certainly never confused about who is speaking or thinking.

The author is better than most at presenting a balance of the sexes, particularly at giving the women in his novels room to grow, act, and be. After re-reading Cryptonomicon earlier in the year, which is heavily male-oriented, I had forgotten that this was outside his norm.

Thank goodness. The literary exploration of the human condition is simply incomplete when it ignores half of humanity. It is also incomplete when it ignores multiculturalism, abilities, orientations, etc. To his credit, Stephenson is also quite adept at bringing elements of other cultures into the path of his Anglo-Saxon trajectories.

Eluana Englaro, 38, force-fed without purpose or meaning since 1992, has died. While her injury was no doubt a tragedy, her death should marked by humanists as a triumph of reason and celebrated by those who believe in an afterlife. "Death is a messenger of joy," to paraphrase Baha'u'llah, for with it comes the "joyful tidings of reunion." The greatest tragedy, today, is not that she has died. It is that so many have fought so hard against allowing nature to take its course.

Even more so than in the case of Terri Schiavo in the U.S., the rhetoric in the Italian woman's case clearly demonstrates the lack of basic human dignity afforded to women by far too many in society. This is misogyny at its worst. This is the classic dehumanization of half the globe's population. What else can you call it when the most powerful man in that society refers to the patient as merely an "organism"? ("... amazed that doctors who have vowed to save human lives can take part in the act that will surely lead to death, even cruelly by depriving the organism of food," said Silvio Berlusconi over the weekend).

Granted he technically recognizes that she is/was a member of the human species, but certainly the range of his statements over time make clear that, to him, and countless others, the "female of the species" might as well be called the "lesser of the species." (i.e. 1, 2). This is not just about Silvio Berlusconi. This is about recognizing that women are not simply baby-making machines ("Eluana is alive, and she could have children"); this is about recognizing that all women deserve the respect, dignity, and opportunity enjoyed by men (of all colors) around the world.

"For the world of humanity possesses two wings: man and woman. If one wing remains incapable and defective, it will restrict the power of the other, and full flight will be impossible. Therefore, the completeness and perfection of the human world are dependent upon the equal development of these two wings."

'Abdu'l-Baha, in Promulgation of Universal Peace, p318

When our language blames women for rape (explicitly or implicitly), when men's prejudices and fears foster a hostile workplace environment, when our justice systems refuse to allow women the right of self defense in the face of (sexual) violence, when women are denied the right to choose their own medical treatment – then we are breaking that wing, again and again.

Sex plays an important and ingenious role in The Diamond Age, most of it animalian and trance-like. His use of sex in this and other works has me conflicted. Yes, I am a bit of a prude; but more importantly I am keen to avoid misogyny. Sex in Stephenson’s works often feels demeaning and like a nod toward titillating the mostly male sci-fi audience. But it also drives the plot (especially here) when it occurs.

Sex is never gratuitous, and it is never particularly graphic. At times it is even couched in a language (i.e. Victorian English) that takes the edge off the tension – although that can have the (unintended?) effect of minimizing the trauma of some situations, of dehumanizing the act. That could be a legitimate coping mechanism when the act is not consensual – but it can also lead the reader to become detached from the horror of rape. Most of the characters do not suffer from it, so perhaps the sense of distaste reflects my monogamous value system more than an objective literary or humanistic criticism.

Back in December, before cold became a four-letter word (as it does every January in Minnesota), I re-read Neal Stephenson’s neo-Victorian novel The Diamond Age: Or, A Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer. Very enjoyable, filled with social insight, and not so easy to analyze.

Stephenson has a powerful ability to combine technology and the fringes of the human condition. And he’s a pretty good story-teller. Some complain that he builds, builds and then rushes to finish. I’ve never felt that. The endings admittedly can feel a bit less than complete – but it usually comes out as not inappropriate. After all, it is the story between the covers that matters, not the wrap up.

The Diamond Age’s central motif is the use of nanotechnology. This was a technology on the bleeding edge of research, futurism, and cultural awareness in the mid-90’s. That it largely still is makes Stephenson a true sci-fi prophet – he was not simply glomming on to the latest sci/tech to capture popular imagination. He was propelling nanotech into our consciousness and imagination. Well, into that of a segment of the geek crowd anyway.

Most of the (non-bio-medical) innovations of recent years have been in the application or extension of existing technology, rather than creation or deployment of new tech. Thus where Snow Crash now feels almost “merely” prescient, The Diamond Age’s exploration and of the uses and ramifications of its subject still feel fresh.

"Question" asked in a social networking group: World financial crisis. Very good friend of mine wrote me: "It's not important how you got down, it is important how you get up".

Top-down regulations are needed, it is true, to help "fix" and "prevent" the kind of financial non-sense that is killing us. But more importantly, how do we confront the reality that, in our culture as we know it, there will always be people looking to game that system? How do we confront the reality that the financial mess is not a cause, but a symptom? That will require looking deeply at our character, as individuals and as a society. It will require self-evaluation and social exploration, and the cultivation of values that channel human will and energy in better directions (perhaps into justice? into truly equal opportunity for well-being?). In a word: virtues.

Socially, majority-Americans have finally undone hundreds of years of consigning non-human status to non-white Christians. Now that we can see someone as human regardless of color, shape, hair style, etc., what is next? We have to learn to see and feel as one another. That requires patience, magnanimity, loving-kindness, generosity. If we can "get up" with those qualities, then perhaps we'll be less likely to fall down again.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

This is a wonderful, delightful, charming story. Plenty suitable for all ages – so long as you don't mind children being introduced to Neil Gaiman's "subversive" take on fairy tales and magical creatures. Fantastic. Some things are simply too good, too valuable, to bother analyzing in depth. Just enjoy.

View all my reviews.

From a new blog I'm checking out: Raising Consciousness instead of Raising Cain. Addressing a question of what laws should change under the new U.S. adminstration …

If .. we don’t start to think of all humanity as our business, if enough of us don’t start to feel deep down that this is so, if enough of us don’t start to think in terms of what we can do for others rather than what can they do for us, no amount of leadership no matter how charismatic, no amount of money from whatever source, no changes in the law no matter how complex or idealistic will have enough effect.

One thing I've learned in recent years is that the laws and regulations of an administration clearly impact our lives in a very real manner – for instance, a rule that has just been overturned denied money from family planning groups that mentioned the word "abortion." Based on much recent research (for instance), it seems likely that such policies just deny people the opportunity to improve their standards, without actually impacting something like the abortion rate.

This is a matter of a law, but it is also a matter of seeing every single person on this planet as equally deserving of a just and fair life. Which comes first? Periodically the cold light of "reason" will bring us to (more) fair and just rules and regs. But I prefer the combination of reason applied to a "sense of common humanity." After all, the cold light of "reason" all too often says that The Other does not matter. Hence, in my poor understanding, Bahá'u'lláh's claim that unity is a pre-requisite for peace: "The well-being of mankind, its peace and security are unattainable unless and until its unity is firmly established."

"Be generous in prosperity, and thankful in adversity. Be worthy of the trust of thy neighbor, and look upon him with a bright and friendly face. Be a treasure to the poor, an admonisher to the rich, an answerer of the cry of the needy, a preserver of the sanctity of thy pledge. Be fair in thy judgment, and guarded in thy speech. Be unjust to no man, and show all meekness to all men. Be as a lamp unto them that walk in darkness, a joy to the sorrowful, a sea for the thirsty, a haven for the distressed, an upholder and defender of the victim of oppression. Let integrity and uprightness distinguish all thine acts. Be a home for the stranger, a balm to the suffering, a tower of strength for the fugitive. Be eyes to the blind, and a guiding light unto the feet of the erring. Be an ornament to the countenance of truth, a crown to the brow of fidelity, a pillar of the temple of righteousness, a breath of life to the body of mankind, an ensign of the hosts of justice, a luminary above the horizon of virtue, a dew to the soil of the human heart, an ark on the ocean of knowledge, a sun in the heaven of bounty, a gem on the diadem of wisdom, a shining light in the firmament of thy generation, a fruit upon the tree of humility." (Gleanings From the Writings of Bahá’u’lláh, CXXX).

Sub-arctic winds blowing across the
wide boulevard leaving crystalline
mounds glinting and glistening as if
all the stars in the heavens had
fallen to the curb, no larger than
they look from billions of miles away.

NaCL + (crystal) H20 -> salt flats
that would make Utah proud, leaving
car and shoe alike trembling
with dread.

The sky is clear, the air crisp and
pure, every color standing in sharpest
relief against argent fields aground.
That is, until the snow stops falling.

Day by day, what was white turns gray;
and what was fresh, alive and bright,
now is gritty, post-industrial blight.
Then the magic flakes materialize
again, wiping away the grime (or just
covering it), flushing the soot from
the air like a great Gaian sneeze.

Is that another 6 inches on the
driveway? I'm staying in today.