Duluth Digest #2.5

Today we find ourselves reprieved of the Duluth weather anomaly, or independent weather pattern; instead, we're under a flood warning stretching from our corner of Lake Superior all the way south past San Antonio to the Mexican border. My wife has relatives living in San Antonio, and it's rare that something occurring here is also occurring there. The proclivities of rain and sunshine are not the only things that I'm not used to around here; I also need an orientation to the social fabric. My wife Laura and I discussed the distinction I made in my last post about what fulfills each of us, and we came to agree that we both need the natural world AND the social construct. Living in Duluth, however, has given me some kind of detachment disorder. This may be just the absence of what I'm used to in terms of feeling connected. I've lived in larger cities until now, where I've always known how and where to facilitate whatever kind of human interaction I need. To be honest, I've never had the degree of profoundly tranquil non-human interaction that I have here, and I have definitely bonded with these physical surroundings.


Duluth Digest #2

The fall colors are popping in the North, and it's awesome. The three of us went for a superb hike this morning along the wonderfully scenic Lester River, which is even more gorgeous right now because of the colorful trees, and the medley of leaves and needles on the ground against a backdrop of mud from many recent rainy days. We marveled at the sensations of soggy foliage, the rushing river and the fragrance of the forest in autumn. The light rain that was coming down enhanced the scenery even more. I've come to cherish having these creeks and rivers running right through the city, within minutes of home, and I'm impressed that they have been preserved essentially as part of the park system in Duluth. Hiking and running along these trails, along with catching glimpses of Lake Superior here and there, invigorates me. I've realized from living here that the proximity to nature deeply satisfies my soul and energizes my mind. I've also learned that my wife yearns for proximity to culture and community for the same reasons. Now you understand the dilemma we're deliberating over: where, oh where will we find an agreeable compromise?


Duluth Digest #1

I'm halfway through my first experience of winter in Duluth, Minnesota and wow, has it been abnormally and sensationally cold. I'm doing as the locals do and making an effort to revel in such frigid air, but there's only so much fun to be had outside once I've lost all sensation in my feet and hands. Also, the snow becomes very dry and turns into a very fine, brittle powder when it's this cold - just like freezer burn on that popsicle in your freezer from last summer. This makes it useless for sledding, snow angels, snowballs or making snow people. We were locked in a deep freeze of sub-zero temps for much of December and January, and my two-and-a-half-year-old, Felix, is decidedly not reveling and thinks anyone who goes outside to play is crazy. We moved here last July, when no one hesitated to go outside, and we began many mornings by opening the front door to feel the sun. Now we are constantly scouting around our new city to find fun indoor activities and exercise during these cold weeks, and we are truly having a good time. We moved from Minneapolis and have swapped a cramped house with a great backyard for a bigger house with very little yard. The three of us all love the great outdoors and exploring new places, though, so overall the relocation has been a great adventure. The house where we lived in Minneapolis was built to take full advantage of the warm part of the year, with windows and a porch and a back door that we threw wide open as soon as the overnight low temps stayed above fifty-five. Our house in Duluth was built to withstand and provide a greater barrier against much more drastic weather. Living next to Lake Superior is a very unique experience, and Duluth has a very peculiar climate. Much of the city is on a hillside facing the lake, and there will regularly be abrupt and fleeting fog or rain that rolls over the crest line and down the hill. We have a great view and often watch this meteorological action from our enclosed front porch, which warms up on sunny days so much that we can hang out there even in winter. Anyway, this weather pattern has been named "the lake effect", which alters the weather so that in spring and summer it's generally cooler near the water than the actual temperature for the surrounding area, and warmer in fall and winter. Not only is Lake Superior picturesque, but the stunning landscape of hills, rivers and forests that surround it is magnificent, and the oceanic panorama feels like living on the coast.

Now that I've dutifully perpetuated the Minnesotan proclivity to talk about the weather, I can move on.

Duluth is a dynamic city that knows how to utilize the cold Great Lake and the cold winters to its advantage. There are many new and interesting things going on, and the culture here, as in many urban places around the country, seems to be on the cusp of a small-scale creative resurgence. There are several neighborhoods that are reviving a sense of community and camaraderie with new breweries and taprooms; cafes and coffee shops; dance and yoga studios; mercantile shops; artist quarters and artistic spaces; and companies with new visions of civic development and technology. Right now I'm working at the OMC Smokehouse, a restaurant in the Lincoln Park neighborhood, which was recently dubbed the craft district due to the various types of ventures moving into the area or opening up new shops. There are two breweries with taprooms, the Duluth Pottery studios; the Makers' Mercantile shop, the Duluth Kombucha company, Hemlocks Leatherworks; the Duluth Folk School, and a skate/snowboard shop. Plans are in the works for a handmade ice cream shop, a deli/sandwich shop, two cideries with taprooms, and a boutique hotel to open this year. This area is creating a lot of buzz as a focal point of Duluth's revitalization, and is also being described as the "Canal Park for the locals". Two of the places on my Duluth bucket list are music venues: Red Herring Lounge and the brand new Sound, but they'll have to wait until my wife and I have a dependable babysitter lined up. The owner of Red Herring is also working on another great project - opening a travelers' hostel somewhere downtown on Superior Street.

Despite the cold, we've ventured out to experience three of the city's larger winter attractions. The first was Bentleyville: Tour of Lights; the second was an outdoor holiday market on the grounds of the Glensheen estate; the third was the Cold Front Festival on Canal Park. All three are very commendable and brave attempts to reclaim the winter months from the winter doldrums and celebrate this northern climate. Bentleyville is a huge spectacle of Christmas with everything in lights from Sesame Street to a tribute to the armed forces, and draws the biggest crowd I've yet seen in Duluth. The other two events were new and thus very short-lived - one weekend - which will need to be lengthened in order to make good on the narrative that we who live here enjoy ourselves outside in the winter, and don't just dash out for a quick sled ride and a beer in a tent. I think these events should incorporate more shelter from the elements into such holiday festivities, as I've seen in other cities. Duluthians are very tough, I will avouch, but placing a fire-pit in the middle of the festival grounds isn't enough to coax people to hang out longer with a sub-zero wind chill whipping around.


Business, Work & Community

I'm thinking you might like a feat of analysis?; a brainstorm of reasoning?; or maybe just a mash-up of somewhat related thoughts? In any case, for a random essay, I will now attempt to explicate the relationship as I see it between business, work and community (if you think I'm crazy, don't - I'm having a good time with this). I think about this quite a lot, as I am passionate about combining these three concepts into my daily life. That said, you would be correct to assume that I have a hard time in the current economy, which seeks to divorce work life from home life.

Communities arose over time and are able to adapt to fulfill fundamental needs: companionship, protection, food, clothing, housing, child care, senior care, health care, education, transportation, entertainment and utilities. Communities generate the businesses and services necessary to accommodate these needs; communities also provide the workforces that businesses need to open and thrive. The people, the businesses and the labor are a self-sustaining system - in a word, the economy. I suppose that seems like an obvious conclusion, but this is the first time I've spelled it out for myself logically. I find two things about this intriguing: first, the idea that the larger "economy" started out as a small "community" which relies as much or more on social interactions as it does on fiscal transactions; and second, the revolutionary changes that the corporate form of business has had on both the community and the economy. Business used to exist for the well-being of community, but in the present world takes advantage of community - especially as urban populations swell and rural ones shrink.

The last three years wreaked havoc on my creative ambitions due to an exhausting and unfulfilling job. Three months ago, however, I started working at a brand new coffee shop/cafe/art gallery in Northeast Minneapolis called Mojo, with a very vague suspicion that here I would find the kickstart I was seeking for my creativity. I work at restaurants & cafes; I always will - I'm in the industry for life, but I have an inherent (from my dad) need to derive a deeper satisfaction from my work than just fulfilling the job duties. I desire to work in an environment that fosters creativity and genuinely accommodates meaningful, humanitarian interaction. This all seems a bit philosophical, but when put into practice requires only the social skills we all learn (hopefully) while growing up combined with the specific skill-sets we learn during grade school, college and job training. Work and life need not be mutually exclusive, and I believe there was a time not long ago when the predominant business model encapsulated these two aims: to be a part of the fabric of community; and do so by offering goods and/or services aimed at augmenting that community. I understand, however, that working for someone else most often takes one's own goals and dreams out of the equation, separating them from the work day. Because of this, if you work forty hours a week, you spend about one-third of your time awake accomplishing your employer's goals. Two-thirds of your time remain to achieve your own goals, and raise a family, and dedicate time for free-time, romance or recreation. The full-time work schedule was not established with your best interests in mind... it was created out of a nefarious scheme to render the workforce subservient to the corporate leaders, which has led to a change in our spending habits. Full-time employees, especially if they are also parents, have less time and energy off the job to shop for and cook food (much less grow their own), make their own clothes, fix their own cars and houses, or fellowship with family and friends. We now strive to achieve a certain level of disposable income in order to buy the goods and serves we no longer view as attainable on our own. The attitude of Americans becoming rampant and unwitting consumers has been a hot topic for a decade, yet the cultural penchant to consume has been meticulously calculated by the business sector.

Now I'll step off the soap box and come back to Mojo Coffee Gallery. You might initially think of the song lyric "mojo risin'" from The Doors, or the groovy connotation of the word used by Mike Meyers in the "Austin Powers" movies. In this context, however, the word mojo is used quite spiritually to conjure an image of passion and a desire to affect people through the performance of art and the immediacy of good food. I've perused the definitions of "mojo" and learned that the original word means a small cloth bag worn around the neck that carries a magical charm in it used to attract good luck or love, or to ward off evil spirits. Newer meanings of mojo relate more to personal charisma or confidence; having a quality that distinguishes a person apart from others; the essence of one's style. This is the idea that Mojo Coffee Gallery is built on: that a business can still have a soul. The story of how Mojo came to be involves a group of people attempting to create a space to reconnect community, art and business. I'm excited to see Mojo develop and I'm hopeful that this kind of place can still exist and thrive.


The Current Dilemma with "The Current"

The Current started ten years ago this winter, and as they celebrate their tenacity and momentum there's a new strain of disappointment filtering in following the dismissal of daytime d.j. Barb Abney. It seems as though a section of The Current's long-standing audience, myself included, are no longer as satisfied with the station's performance, and question the motivation to oust the dedicated, personable Barb Abney. Alright, I admit it may just be me (read this article from the Star Tribune), but The Current is publicly owned, and a public discourse should take place to evaluate its current state and future success. Here I offer my assessment of the station's progress.

I have always been a music lover. The earliest memories I have of music involve a 1970's Fisher Price dual-speed record player and a box of 45's. A specific remembrance of music accompanies most of the milestones in my life. I listened to The Current avidly the first four years it existed. The unconventional energy, inventiveness and diversity pumping out through my home stereo was so refreshing to ears tired of the previous decade of trend-setting, mass marketed, corporate-controlled, singles-based airplay. In the past The Current has recognized, discussed and presented the ways in which music history has influenced "current" artists - that's my take on the name of the station: that music flows like a current from one generation to the next. The programming for the first four years had no rival anywhere, as it moved seamlessly between genres, styles, periods and cultures. I remember when the mix would include Mable John and Zap Mama, then Joss Stone and Radio Citizen, then Aha and Duran Duran, then throw in that song by Robert Plant and Allison Kraus, then play the Black Keys (when they were good) and Ali Farka Toure and Sigur Ros and then something like Dire Straits, followed by A Tribe Called Quest and Nappy Roots. I have discovered so, so, SO, SOOOOO much music by listening to The Current; my musical tastes have broadened and expanded substantially. The associations and connections made by the dj's at The Current made music exciting again. Who else would've thought to juxtapose Katy Perry with Missy Elliott? Oh, right... never mind (even though I didn't watch the Super Bowl). Anyway, I'm just trying to express the profound impact that this radio experiment has had on the listening public.

I moved to New York City in 2008, luckily able to bring The Current with me online. My Minnesota Public Radio station still had no equal, even in the big, make that gigantic city where everything is possible and everything is available... except a great radio station (and cake doughnuts, and that stubborn Midwestern stoicism that oftentimes results in frostbite or pneumonia). I created innumerable stations on Pandora based on bands I'd heard for the first time on The Current. I was also elated when a band that I'd discovered for myself was played on The Current - it was a camaraderie of spirit; a playful volley of music impressions; an intrepid rediscovery of musical shapes and forms. During the four years I lived in NYC The Current began incorporating more and more popular, and also trendy, music - past and present - in ever-increasing proportions. The playlists were changing in a way that felt fabricated, just like the airplay of the nineties. In addition, the scintillating commentary from the d.j.'s about the music seemed to be phasing out of the program. Keeping up with the times is perfectly fine in and of itself, yet The Current was losing its cutting-edge philosophy of "the current of music" to a more banal pandering to a more mainstream audience. For several years I kept expecting to hear new music that was as inventive and interesting as its source material, yet I was continually disappointed. There are still intermittent times when the "old" Current shines through, but they are fleeting and tend to be either during a member drive (misrepresentation) or at six o'clock in the morning. To be fair, I surmise that the qualm I'm voicing has probable causes, such as the time of day I happen to listen, or the fact that "Take Me to Church" was the most requested song of last year. I am not insinuating that the programmers or d.j.s on The Current are losing their ability to produce content with more depth, but that the station has changed its course for the worse.

To jump to my point, I was a contributing member of MPR before New York, and have not re-subscribed since moving back to Minnesota, because of this (de-)evolution. The amazement, intrigue and curiosity I felt about this tributary of music that kept me coming back for more every day has been lost in the raging, expansive river. These days we listeners hear a daily barrage of recent songs in similar sounding blocks of songs, and we hear those blocks of songs three or four times a day. I want the passion The Current used to have to return. The songs that all the music scouts are seeking for the latest ad campaign or the latest movie theme can have their day on the radio, but The Current should be honoring its ten-year legacy by placing these trendy songs in the context of "the current". Bring back the digressions into punk, math/geek-rock, soul, hip-hop, jazz, avant grade, experimental, funk and blues. Play a different block of songs each time a highly-requested song is played. Be more spontaneous. Mix up those Hozier songs with some electro-swing... try Parov Stelar or Wax Tailor. Mix up that Jose James with some Ali Farka Toure or Afrika Bambaata. Mix up Courtney Barnett with The Kills or Shirley Bassey or Pat Benatar. Better yet, play for us some obscure female punk band from the late seventies; play some of the original songs sampled by the Beastie Boys or Dee-Lite; talk about what influenced Glass Animals or Lizzo. Play anything by Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Chick Correa, Astrud Gilberto, Seu Jorge, Tom Waits, Caetano Veloso or Up, Bustle & Out. Bring back the connections and revelations that provide fresh insight to new music. I don't want to be placated by hearing familiar songs again and again - that doesn't stimulate the mind. I want to be inspired and enthused by hearing unique interpretations of "the current" of music and tune in to a live broadcast of authentic people affirming that creativity and artistry still thrive.


A Pale Boy; A Splintered Frame

A pale boy with blue eyes sits on a
brown back porch,
holding head in hands that
have gone numb
the full humid weight of the
sky tugs and pulls
down every recent day;
he sits on the steps of his
secret refuge,
the vacant, dilapidated house
as mosquitoes ravenously
and uncertainty hovers above
the trees,
inside the bulbous
a gust of wind opens the sky,
gutters start to swell with the
advancing rain
now intermittent,
now pouring down,
filling potholes and ditches
blades of grass luminate
a vibrant green;
pebbles darken in hue -
an acquired luster -
and release
their burden of heat;
the mosquitoes dissipate as
though dissolved
the soaked floorboards creak
under the first weight
set upon them in two years…
the boy walks through the
remains of rooms,
under the half-caved roof
and emerges from the
splintered frame
of the front door
he steps into the full deluge
and is running,
splashing through the puddles
with shimmering blue eyes,
and a magnificent white smile.


To Sum it Up

When was the last time you intentionally sat down and listened to an entire album, start to finish, without distraction? I was born between the era of records and the era of CD’s - when we had cassette tapes, and you had two choices: either suffer through the songs you didn’t like on an album, or spend way too long trying to fast-forward or rewind to find the song(s) you wanted to hear. Then CD’s took the place of tapes, and the freedom to instantly change songs had returned, so you can imagine my fondness for CD’s, which may never expire. I’m feeling as though I’ll be shopping at the CD store until the only CD’s still around to buy are greatest hits collections, so I have to ask: is the “Album” even a thing any more?

I haven’t listened to a complete album for far too long, but I recently brought home the first album I’ve ever bought by Slim Harpo, a New Orleans blues harmonica player from the late fifties and sixties. I poured myself a cup of coffee one morning and listened to the whole thing, relishing the rhythms and absorbing the acoustics. It was fantastic, and revived a dormant affinity in me for that experience. As the music played some thoughts started bubbling up from the depths about the history and relevance of the Album. I’m thinking mainly about pop music and how the presentation and format of new music has changed as technology changes. Digital forms of music are rendering the Album obsolete, along with compact discs. New music (and more broadly, new media) is increasingly summed up and presented in shorter and more condensed segments. Even though most bands are still compelled to release new material in album form, I would guess that most of the audience buys and/or listens to it in digital form. In the last ten years I’ve watched, to my dismay, the record sections (yes, I buy records too) in music stores dwindle down to almost nothing, and I’ve been heartbroken as many record stores went out of business. Suddenly the scenario has reversed and records are making a big comeback, while compact discs are dwindling. I’m quite certain the reason for that is because there are still enough people around who appreciate the tangible experience that an album provides.

The Brazilian coffee I was drinking that morning was really delicious, but even better was listening to an album with no interruptions. Many of Slim Harpo’s songs play through the standard form of verses and choruses, solos and bridges, all that sort of stuff - with a beginning and an end. On many tracks, however, something else happens at the “end” of the song: Harpo slides into a groove on his harmonica a few seconds before the volume fades out. The songs end at just the moment when my interest is piqued by the allure of spontaneous musical meanderings, when I’m ready to follow the musician wherever he might go… but there’s that blasted cut-off again. That harmonica groove seems to vanish into thin air, never to be heard.

I started to analyze my reaction to having the improvisation of a bluesman cut short. In my opinion, if a musician wants to launch into free-form, it should be allowed to continue… but then how would the album producer decide when to conclude each song? The standard or popular format for an album is that each song is a compartment that comes to an end that is as conclusive as it can be (unless the tracks are meant to meld into each other), which is the likely reason for fading out - before things get out of hand and become more difficult to sum up nice and neat. With pop music the listener’s attention is not distracted by a desire to interpret or formulate new thoughts, but is always prepared to hear what comes next. I’ve read that the sooner the chorus occurs in a song (ideally by the thirty-second mark), the more likely it will be played on the radio. Most of the time, even if the structure of a pop song is experimented with, there is a definite ending that gives closure to it and creates a space before the start of the next track. The song “Alive” by Pearl Jam, for example, diverges from the norm in the middle and culminates with three minutes of soulful guitar playing, yet still definitively ends with a few drum strokes.

I did some searching online to dig up the reasoning behind the popular structure of verse/chorus/verse. What I gathered is that musical form is created using repetition and contrast; or familiarity and surprise. Popular music is so highly pleasing (and sometimes addictive) because it exploits the repetition of catchy melodies or hummable phrases to generate an expectation of more of the same. The contrasting element - be it a segue, a bridge, overlapping parts, or a solo, etc., - then surprises the audience and prevents monotony (although I can think of some bands that have broken this rule and droned on intentionally: The Velvet Underground, Radiohead, Matthew Dear, Low, Sigur Ros, Wilco, Neil Young, Pink Floyd…). Here comes the revelation: repetition is the fastest way for a song to become familiar, kind of like how eating sweets is the fastest way to get sugar into your bloodstream… Aha! Ear candy. What we’re getting is the sugar high, not the nourishment of a balanced meal produced with an effort to cook and a knowledge of what satisfies our appetite. I ran this by a friend of mine and he conjured up the image of a relationship. I believe this is what Radiohead meant when they sang that “Anyone can play guitar” - that putting a verse and a chorus together with a few inventive measures of sound is an instant pleasure that can be produced by anyone while sitting in bed. The pop song, in relationship terms, thus equates to a night of making out. All other studied musical artistry parallels a deeper, more passionate relationship with another person - dependent more on emotions, desires and sacrifices than on gratification.

To be clear, I enjoy the pop form of music quite a bit, yet as I listened to Slim Harpo I wanted to break out of the mold. I wanted to follow those incomplete thoughts. I wanted to hear the improvisation that was only hinted at and let my mind wander the way it does listening to classical or jazz music - both of which have more complex forms and comprise more variation. Popular music is the only form of music that morphs to reflect the way media is distributed and received. We are now able to access the news and listen to music whenever we want, wherever we are, from unlimited sources. We sacrifice the profound impact that music can have on our souls for the convenience of pop music.


My Blood, Each Day

A certain sequence occurred today,
a circumstance arose,
to see my own blood.
This was a significant day -
it was not the everyday
kind of blood:
the type people see on themselves,
as a result
of a scrape
on a knuckle,
or a scratch
from a thorn -
the blood
just below
the surface.

I watched,
nonplussed: the blood
pump to the surface pump pump,
by the inner organ,
to every vital recipient.
This was the blood we do not see,
or rarely see,
if only through stories
told on TV
or a movie screen;
the blood we hope not to see,
as it indicates a closer
proximity to peril.

I was inadvertently
by a very small,
which produced this occasion
for me to see my own blood,
deep down dark,
and an instance to reflect.
As it was when it happened my frame
of mind quickly
grew astute,
and my response to cinch the wound
was swift.

Now with the barrier repaired
between the perpetual
inner circulation
and the anterior world,
I have the calm
once again
of my longevity
and a reassurance that
the wellspring of life
is within me,
receding to the interior
once again
where it silently
facilitates each fundamental,


Musing #1

Bryant Square, NYC: a few years ago

I’ve got a head full of street fluff, city detritus…
worse than the foul wafts of charring meat and pretzels,
scorched and salted nuts, and wet concrete.
I’ve just used up the available day light walking,
trying to find a suitable place
to settle in;
somewhere to sit and feel the breeze,
watch the clouds meander over the skyline,
maybe even escape the incessant traffic
without needing to be indoors; without having to buy
another coffee.

I haven’t found that place, not perfectly,
but there are people finding their own respite in rocking chairs,
people surrounding me in the plaza: all of us enjoying the
pleasant illusion of serenity granted by a row of shrubs and a few trees;
feeling placated by the fountain,
the children chasing pigeons - laughing at their imbecilic cooing sounds
and the squabble as they take flight,
escaping the torment of humans invading their preciously scarce
park space.


Poem #1

I generally exhibit manners that are mild:
I go easy on the sweet things; let the rushing rush hour pass me by;
identify an unbeknown bird call;
and I do not step in the potholes,
as I am running on the trail around the golf course…
I normally watch the placement of each stride,
a crucial concern to avoid injury.
Today I put my foot directly in it,
a large, memorized indentation in the road,
it was dry; I was sweating; the clouds were floating by -
so I made a different choice:
to land right in the center…
bending my right knee a fraction farther to account
for the drop;
an angle to allow for
a few inches more
down from the level surface.
I changed my focus that instant
from how I usually go…
and for several moments after,
I felt a difference in my stride:
the route I intend to run
around the golf course
no longer


What we're involved in...

We decide our own level of involvement in life, yet I'm not sure we have anything to do with what we're involved in. Where we're born, who we're raised by, what kind of primary education we get, and the personal capacities that education brings to the forefront is entirely out of our control (unless you have hippy mother earth unschooling parents who allowed you to choose your style of education, which sounds rather exciting). Anyway, our upbringing is generally directed by adults, and influences the lifestyle choices that we face upon becoming an adult ourselves. Our personal will seems to start kicking in during high school, when we gain more freedoms from both the state and our parents. We're meant to possess the skills to determine our own course once we hit age twenty-one, yet I believe we're born with the talents that are developed throughout our school/college years, making one's involvement in a lifestyle a matter of priority and passion.


Oil Boom or Agricultural Bust?

I've just come across a story/documentary called "My Country, No More" that is seeking funding for completion about the conflict of interest between agriculture and industry on the oil fields in North Dakota. The story is that of those living in Trenton, ND, above the newly discovered oil reserves versus those seeking to build a diesel refinery. The film apparently addresses several pertinent questions about how to measure the oil boom's impact on the land, the community, and the future, and tries to assess the human costs and benefits. The rush to capitalize on the oil, for better or worse, will transform those communities, that land, and should help the U.S. to become less reliant on foreign oil in the future. I quote the article: "What and who are we willing to sacrifice in our pursuit of progress?" I've got a burning question of my own: Did we, as heavy consumers of oil from other countries, offer this assessment of their land, communities, and futures before we built refineries and pipelines in their towns? Now that it's possible to supply our needs with oil from North Dakota, aren't we obligated to do so and relieve the burden we've placed on other countries? If anything this film could shed light on the issue of how much oil we use and the predicted upcoming shortage; and on what the human costs and benefits have been in other parts of the world.


Rebuttal: Hidden Cost of Burgers

This is a recent article on about the downside of utilizing cows as a source of food. I have a response that is too long to post on the site, so I've put it here. "The Hidden Cost of Burgers: Your Quarter Pounder Needs 450 Gallons of Water" This article/video is alarmist - meaning it's hyperbole meant to evoke authentic anger, when in fact the fundamental issue is not whether humans eat beef, but how we humans raise and feed our supply of beef (or all food, for that matter). For one thing, the methane that cows produce is absorbed by TREES, which we cut down to grow shit crops like soy and corn and oats - all the "cereal grains" that are now in everything in some form. If humans didn't eat grains in the absurd quantities that we do, we could continue to raise animal food sources using the methods that our ancestors used - grazing, herding & roaming. It takes a lot of work. It requires much of our time and skill to produce food in a fair, respectful, holistic, nurturing, sustainable and just way - we've just grown accustomed to ignoring where our food comes from, how it was made, and what good it does for us. Listen, this is YOUR HEALTH! This is your energy, your vitality, your future, your home planet. We need to eat, and we need to feed every mouth (even though population growth is a separate debate altogether). We need to produce the food we eat with regard to the health of the earth; of the soil; of the air; of the water. If we can't see past spending more than $3.oo for a quarter pound of beef + cheese + lettuce + bun, we're absolutely fucked. The price of food needs to reclaim the number one spot on our list of priorities - it should be the biggest cost for you and your family - that ensures that farmers get enough money to continue taking care of the land for you, since you've chosen to work in an office on the 42nd floor writing documents for a company in Sweden that makes athletic shoes manufactured in Taiwan and sold in the U.S. (how many steps will we take to reduce our costs and our accountability?). How close will we allow ourselves to come upon the brink of self-destruction? I have separate qualms with the recently concluded Batman trilogy of movies, yet it's focus has been entirely on this kind of imbalance in the allocation of wealth and the misappropriation of the world's resources towards those with power, which can only lead to annihilation of the entire population. Thoughts, questions, responses???


OWS in the News

The Occupy movement is calling people into action - I've been avidly reading all the articles I can find about the various angles and perspectives (and noticed that the only arguments against OWS are based on the fact that it's unfocused and leaderless, which aren't necessarily cons), and I'm excited about the verve and the tenacity that this movement exhibits.

Here are a couple of reads:
OWS 1: Wall St. 0 
This one is great - I've been thinking about how to take it out of Zucotti Park and into the concrete and steel of everyday life...
Occupy the Agenda