First Impression (Fiction in 55 or less)

I saw him coming out of a barber shop, walking down 15^th Street. He stared at me an unhealthy length of time, his gaze leering and inappropriate. I readied my "see anything you like," comment as he gawked interminably at me. As he got closer, I realized he was blind. I felt like an utter fool.

Waiting Game

Why are humans so very impatient these days? For that matter, why am I so impatient? I started wondering about this when I noticed myself tapping my fingers and toes anytime I had to wait for anything. When did I decide that life was taking too long? I wonder if it has something to do with being over thirty (or was I always this impatient?). Everywhere I go, I notice the same tell-tale signs: people rolling through stoplights, constantly checking their phones for time, texts or voice mails, rolling their eyes whenever somebody breaks out a checkbook. I mean, does it really take an interminable amount of time to scribble shit onto a tiny piece of paper?

Perhaps our everything-at-our-fingertips world taints our ability to persevere. Perhaps being able to flip through channels when commercials come on, or flip between windows when our movies are buffering, led us down this path. Is it really so bad to wait? Are we so insufferable when we're waiting because we smell the end at hand (and I don't mean all this 2012 nonsense)? And I'm certainly not suggesting I'm immune to this behavior. It's not that difficult to wait in line, or sit at traffic lights, but somehow it seems as though anything usurping our precious time ought to wind up before a tribunal on crimes against humanity. The rapid pacing of our lives seems to have eaten away at our ability to slow down, to take our time. To savor the universe around us, rather than spin ever faster down our paths. This is tragic. Perhaps we all need to sit back for a few seconds every day and watch the clouds marching across the sky (unless you live in Texas right now, then imagine them, like I do), enjoy the birds chatting up each other in the trees, or the accidental sculpture of hills and valleys. Because our internal clocks are right. We are running out of time. And the truly saddest people will be those who lived without enjoying themselves, because there are no guarantees as to what awaits us when life's over.

So I beg you (maybe not you in particular): savor the small things, slow down for just a second or two. You'll get where your going eventually, but will you be ready for what you don't find?

Vacation-Based Absence

Hello to the occasional browser or repeat viewer. I've been on a three week vacation and limited in my ability to access the internet. In any case, its been a while since I've updated Cult, but rest assured there is more material about my inane existence forthcoming.

We had a pleasant if strenuous (meaning both travel-time and alcohol intake) vacation, which brought us back into the tumultuous Midwest and its wildly vacillating climate - for example, when we arrived in Madison, it was in the upper fifties (at night, that is). That weekend, we climbed into the seventies, nearly to 80, but by the time we arrived up north (to the Lake Tomahawk area), temperatures were in the fifties during the day.

But the relaxation and the booze both flowed freely, and now its back to the daily grudge. Above is an assortment of imagery from the journey, with a high-speed tourist review of Memphis, TN forthcoming.

Pictures (from top):

Arkansas Rest-Stop Flag (I'd never been to Arkansas. We stopped in Bill Clinton's home town of Hope. The last president we had a stable economy under was from Hope. Hmm...)

Walking to Downtown Memphis, with our friends Aleks and Tyler.

Weird picture of a semi on the way out of Memphis.

Stormy rural Missouri.

Stormy Madison, Wisconsin.

Stormy Austin Morning

Initially, upon doing my climatological homework (something I now require before moving to a new location), I discovered that Austin had a fairly decent amount of stormy weather. This was good news. Of course, to my dismay, we moved here during La Nina, and the weather has been unseasonably hot and dry. So it came as a great relief (and comfort - as it reminded me of my home town, Madison, WI) to get a barnstorming severe storm tearing through Austin today. At one point, while driving through the east side of town, the wind patterns had an eerily cyclonic appearance - although upon further review, no tornadic activity was reported. In any case, following along both my amateur meteorological and amateur photographic bent, here are some pictures of my tempestuous morn. (By the way, the middle picture is of a pea-sized hail stone - in case you were wondering)

The War on Symbolism

I admit, I usually prefer to keep this a place of creativity before politics (mostly because its probably painfully obvious where I stand), but on occasion I feel the need to rant about current events, and this is one of those times. Bear with me please.

The recent "announcement" of Osama (Usama) Bin Laden's death comes as a continual reminder of the problem of scale within our modern society. Of course, the US populace's first reaction is one of flag-waving celebration. This I can understand, although it seems rather jingoistic and somewhat empty to me. Of course much of the country is relieved to find him dead - he did take credit for the most heinous attack on US soil in decades. But what perturbs me to no end are the implications surround the entire course of events.

In destroying Bin Laden, we've succeeded in what exactly? Killing the figurehead of terrorism across the world? In a biblical "eye for an eye" sense, I can certainly understand the adulation, but what has this accomplished in reality? The war on terror has, in essence, been a war on iconography - on symbolism. A war against ideology has a limited means of success from its very inception. This war may have been one of the Bush Regime's biggest successes. How can you win a war which can never be won? How can you kill an idea? I honestly wonder that if Bin Laden hadn't been ill - possibly dying already, as some sources report - if his reign of terror wouldn't have continued indefinitely.

Now, I'm not trying to drum up ire against the US government here. They can do that excessively well on their own. What I am concerned about are the underlying misconceptions, as well as what the magic mirror of self-examination mentions about our ideological battles. Sure, Bin Laden's dead, the head of Al Qaeda is no more. But what does that mean to us? An icon is dead. Unfortunately, icons have an annoying little habit of becoming martyrs to their causes. When the man dies, though, he doesn't take his ideas with him. Fanaticism is like a hydra - when you cut off its head, typically, it just smirks and sticks another head in your face.

But the underlying theme isn't "terrorism will live forever," because that's a given. As long as their are ideas, there will be counter-ideas, in lesser and greater extremes. The real issue is how did our world become so polarized? How did the United States alienate the fringes of one of the largest religious groups in the world? We're missing the larger image here.

The US has made a habit of stepping on, making shady backroom deals with, and installing politically friendly, if unpopular, leaders in countries where we see opportunities for resources. This is the nasty side of world diplomacy. It makes sense from a Machiavellian point of view. But while we were turning a lauded "freedom fighter" against Soviet forces into "Public Enemy Number One"; while we were supporting regimes who oppressed their peoples' democratic rights, but bowed before the almighty United States (or at least its money); while global corporations were exploiting the underdeveloped resources of impoverished nations - with a blinded US eye; the kindling of frustration erupted into an inferno of resistance. Our iron-fisted "diplomacy" poked the serpents nest and rather than diffusing the situation, we ignored it, or worse:

I try not this cynical, but sometimes I wonder if we didn't welcome it. I wonder, because this burgeoning terrorist network prompted several wars, helped keep US citizens distracted from their problems and focused bigotry into a sharply tuned Islamic point. And once again, much of the US populace missed that fact. We wanted the quick fix. We wanted to punish a previously US supported dictator for non-existent weapons of mass destruction. We wanted to trounce a regime which we once fed with arms and support against the Russians. Suddenly, taking out our former ally, Bin Laden, would solve all our problems - the little anti-terrorist anti-depressant which would make everything better.

We once again missed the forest for a few scraggly trees.

We continually fail to recognize the simple similarities to a childhood idiom - do unto others as you'd have done to you. Now, I'm not a bald-faced idealist like I once was. I recognize that there probably have always, and likely will always be conflict in our world. But if, for once, we acted to support developing nations, rather than taking advantage of their neediness and instability, perhaps we could bolster trust, rather than animosity. If rather than bullying people for resources, we helped them develop them in a non-invasive and ecologically viable fashion, maybe they'd be more likely to see us as thugs and more apt to call us allies. Perhaps if we didn't let our own one dimensional caricatures of other cultures and ideologies shadow our common sense, we could start to really view the world less as potential threats and more as potential cohorts.

Yeah, I know, I really do sound idealistic. But maybe for once we should let a different kind of mindset out in public. It's the 21st motherfucking century for fucks sake! Our planet's running out of space and resources. Our atmosphere may well be artificially warming. Its time we shook off the blinders and understood that killing a terrorist figurehead won't end our problems; that drilling for more oil won't make us economically more viable for much longer; that we're heading for important, potentially world-rending decisions in our lifetime. Its time to stop dicking around with quick fixes and trying to understand - much less solve - the real issues of our times.

Thanks for indulging me. I needed to get that off my chest.

Where are they going?

Have you ever just sat somewhere (preferably a porch or bar. Also preferably with beer in hand.) and watched people walking by? I have. I always wonder where they're going, why they're in such a hurry (is it the modern phenomenon of "bigger, faster, more" which drives us ever faster or is it simply that we're late to work). Sometimes I like to make up stories or destinations. That tall man on the bus is going to a conference on astrophysics with a brilliant paper tucked away in his tattered saddle-bag. That couple in the Subaru is trying to get to a hospital to see her sister's new baby, but their car is about to break down. They'll make it there eventually, but not without an aura of frustration and subtle hints of grease. That woman is a Brazilian tourist, on her way back to the Motel 6 - only to discover a couple fucking in her room by accident (the accident not being the fucking, but that they're in the wrong room). Will she join in or run screaming to the manager? That cop is about to arrest a flasher in Zilker Park, who'll turn out to be - insert tense fanfare - nothing but a pervy, old flasher.

I can't help being fascinated by people. As easy as it is to get thoroughly sick of humans (ask me about my anti-social binges), its also impossible not to find a sense of wonder, even in the most mundane of human activities (such as heading from point a to point b). I just hope that sense of wonder never fades. I think then, I truly will be a stodgy old man.

Everybody Walks in San Antone

Some recent candid shots of our trip to San Antonio. And yes, that is the outside of the Alamo. Yes, I am that cliche - for Nicole's mom's visit.