In the Aeroplane Over the [Great Lakes], pt. 2

So, my first plane trip in over a decade was, all things considered, a resounding success.  I guess I feel the need to discuss this issue more because at it's heart, I'm truly amazed by the act of human flight.  I mean, there we were, all couple-hundred of us strangers, just hanging there by the relatively basic of physical principles, gliding along towards our respective destinations. 

There's this lack of aesthetic that exists on commercial airliners.  The seats don't align across rows evenly.  The windows don't line up with the rows of seats evenly.  The elbow rests hurt more than help.  Air travel can be an unforgiving beast, but it's a miracle that we gladly suffer.

There was this juxtaposition that I endured, at whatever level of willingness, presented through my misaligned windows; the engine dangling precariously from the wing, set against the backdrop of the night lights below.  A mild turbulence throughout the latter 2/3rds of the flight would bounce the plane, but the engine wouldn't bounce the same.  It reacted either a few moments before or a few moments after, depending on how I chose to understand it. I found this slightly unnerving, but also a useful life metaphor.  To me, it was the incongruity of observation and existence, the notion that we can observe and make sense of a lot in the world, but often our observed reality may contradict with the natural reality's supremacy.  Here I felt unnerved by the shaking of the plane, but in fact, I was probably more safe than I had been in many moments in my life where I felt much, much safer.

What is it about plane travel that causes us to reflect?  I bear a profound fondness for The Kinks - Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, and on that album there is a song titled This Time Tomorrow.  On it, Ray Davies reflects upon the perspective of being so many thousands of feet above the ground, and the lack of connection one can feel due to the perceived physical distance.  I guess the distance has a profoundly different effect upon me, as I am often craning to view the ground below me and to make sense of the patterns of pavement, roofs, lights, and moving objects.  This activity is especially enjoyable at night; a reason I was thankful our flight was delayed the way it was.  I saw Cleveland, and though I didn't see my family, I felt touched. 

There they were, doing what they do, safe and sound.  And I was on my way. 

Interminably Busy in the Complaint Dept.

Just arrived at Logan to head back home from Boston, and our flight is delayed due to weather or something like that. Well, the Southwest terminal is next to the Boston Beer Works and it just so happens that my fellow Chicagoans are imbibing their delay away. We received word that the delay was to be about an hour or so, but when we asked the fellow at the gate, he said only about 15 minutes right now. To that, a lady began remarking outloud to anyone who would listen that "it was an hour 15 minutes ago, then ten minutes ago it was 20 minutes, now it's fifteen minutes!"

How quickly we find the breath to complain about the slightest change in expectations, regardless of the direction of that change.

In the Aeroplane Over the [Great Lakes]

My first commercial air flight in over ten years is boarding, what a mix of nervousness and excitement. Boston, here I come.

EDIT: Just landed. It was a fun, short flight. The landing was great considering there's pretty thick fog here right now. I got through about half of Maus I. Now we're on our way to drop our luggage off at the B&B.

Dust to Dust

The conversation about the impact and implications of Osama bin Laden's death have brought to relief, for me, a larger philosophical question: Is murder the appropriate response to murder?

"Appropriate" seems Victorian-sounding. What I mean to say is, what value does murdering a killer have? Can vengeance and justice coexist?

No.

First, it's important to distinguish between the two. Justice is the act of righting a wrong. Vengeance is the act of retaliating against a wrong.

Second, it's just as important to establish a clear principle in regards to the crime of murder as viewed by the legal system: there is no such thing as a "just" response to the taking of a human life. It is a wrong that can never be righted. Therefore, no matter what is done in response by the artifices erected by societies, the loss will remain, forever unfulfilled.

In many cases, this isn't even a question of muddy philosophical distinctions or of whether a brutal, insane murderer should be allowed to live, let alone sheltered, protected, and fed by those who he would rather destroy. An unknown number of innocent men and women have been murdered by death penalty due to our short-sighted and neolithic thirst for violent reprisal. They are innocent people killed by the blood lust of a race of beings still primitive enough to mistake selfishness for righteousness.

And we would let it happen everyday if possible. As long as we continue down this path, we will never see justice. This is because murder by retaliation, whether in the form of individual action or state-sponsored death penalties, does not discourage or disincentivize murder; it legitimizes it. It creates an obvious and glaring exception to a rule that most if not all human societies enforce, that the taking of a life of a fellow human being is an unforgivable and intolerable act. When we justify one act of murder on the basis of emotional fulfillment, we give license to the inevitable infallibility of our fellow beings to imposition this exception to their own desire to create emotional fulfillment.

That's not to say by eliminating the death penalty, murder will end. That's to say a society cannot even think about significantly tackling the issue of murder until it recognizes the incompatibility of vengeance and justice.

If a society wants justice, it seeks to reduce vengeance, not engage in it.

Ashes to Ashes

Two days ago, word came that Osama bin Laden had been killed at the hands of U.S. forces. Many details have come to light, some true, many probably not. I haven't been sure how to express my personal feelings on the matter, but when finally pressed, I decided to take a stand.

Shrug.

I'm certainly not jubilant; I cannot cheer the death of another human being, no matter how vile. I don't feel sorrow; the sum of our human existence is more positive now that the cowardly orchestrator of countless deaths has been snuffed out.

But, I do feel... sad. From my perspective, news of bin Laden's death serves as a reminder of the futility of the broader conflict. Two days ago, the man who led, funded, and orchestrated the 9/11 attacks was assassinated, and it has absolutely no measurable impact on the armed conflicts that resulted from his efforts. None. Zero. Zilch.

Totally irrelevant.

This conflict didn't begin on 9/11/2001, and it didn't end on 5/1/2011. It began with the events that led to the Crusades, and it will continue until some indeterminate point in time, many, many, many years from now. We'll continue to grind on in Afghanistan, and when we're finally roused by our disgust at the toll it has taken, we'll leave and take on the new fight du jour.

There's always another terrorist.

lol I'm terrible at this

Haha, that last post is total garbage, and I really lost momentum the day after that snowstorm. I'm too much a creature of habit. Having been out of this particular habit for so long now, it's is going to take considerable effort, from someone who finds effort difficult to muster, to get into form and begin writing with command. Luckily, I've sort of rediscovered the value in putting a real pen to real paper and writing actual things that I can't backspace.

There was recently some sort of revolution in Egypt. I say that in a sort of tongue-and-cheek manner, it was an inspiring moment in history that I was able to at least bear some mediated witness to. I find the most notable aspect at this point to be lack of violence overall. I find the transition period of new government formation to be some of the more fascinating aspect of these moments in history, so I'll be paying attention appropriately.

I've become more and more firm in my belief that Americans are held back not by leviathanic bureaucracies and inept politicians, but by a body politic incapable of bearing the responsibility for cause and effect. In American politics, everything is always everyone else's fault, both on the elected and the electees. What kind of person is willing to go all-in and face the violation of humanity that is the American media coverage of Presidential elections? That in and of itself prevents our truly best minds and leaders from taking the most important elected positions. I'm all for a meritocracy, but I also have this burning itch that our sophistication of political discourse countrywide is relative to that of your average petulant teenager.

The beautiful thing is that we are getting older, and even though the difference between the current ruling elite, my generation, and the children now, may not be too far separated. However, our children's children? Do you have any idea how awesome the world will be when they are our age?! Of course, no one will owe up to this fact because we humans have this embarrassing tendency to profess the end of the world and/or that life was better at a certain time long in the past and/or that the current coming-of-age generation is inferior to their respective group. You know, complete and utter bullshit.

Sufjan Stevens is the Best Songwriter of This Generation

Just listen to The Age of Adz a bajillion times and you'll see.

Snowpocapics

This is the lunch break escape for provisions. By provisions, I mean the beer I bought to ensure I wasn't stuck at home with nothing. Thank goodness for Malloy's!


Here's the view from the third story of my compatriot's living quarters. Not too bad at all, just a little windy. He actually complained after our 500 ft. trek back to the office that the wind gave him a headache. I laughed cause, well, that's how I react to pretty much everything.


I mean, talk about composition! This gives an idea of how bad the challenge of snow removal had become around 4:00 pm this evening when I was on my way home. The storm had BARELY begun, and there wasn't a clear road anywhere.


DT Thrill. As previously mentioned, this seemed like the quickest way home, and I'm very satisfied with my decision. Most of the individuals here were well-behaved. On the left you can see Rosebuds in its temporary, non-fire-damaged location. That unit seems to be a revolving door of places, and I can never figure out why no one has had much long-term success there. I digress, snoward!


This picture perfectly encapsulates the moment in time. The white/negative space on the left is due to the blinding nature of the LED flash on my cameraphone (one word, welcome to the future) hitting our maple tree. The streaks are laser-like snow flakes dancing across my long exposure time, and the dog there is trying to relieve herself amidst what might be her favorite environment in the whole wide world. The funniest thing about her in this type of environment is not necessarily how much she loves it. It's that the first thing she does is eat snow. Then she'll run to some spot, look around, and eat some snow. Who knows why, she's adopted. But it's hilarious.


This isn't the best picture (lol, as if the other are masterpieces), but it gives an example of how strong the winds have been. That indentation is about eight (8) inches in depth. NATURE


My foot is in there somewhere!!!

For some perspective:


I live in the greatest city on the planet, and I love every minute.

Thinking Out Loud

Not sure why anyone would want to read this, but here are a few ideas I need to blog about, and I figure putting them here might help me keep myself accountable and prioritized:

- Why Sufjan Stevens is the BEST songwriter of his generation
- Why Toy Story 3 should win Best Picture at the Oscars this year
- Why Christopher Nolan is one of the most talented directors of his time, despite making The Dark Night about 45 minutes too long.
- Why Sufjan Stevens' most recent album, The Age of Adz is the Album of the Year, and why the failure of pretty much every professional critic to recognize this is a huge disappointment for me.
- Why 'Ye's most recent album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is his worst album by far, and how that ties in to the aforemention loss of respect for professional critics, since they more often than not crowned it album of the year. Laughable, if it weren't so sad.

Snowmageddon

Tuesdays are generally my late day here at work, which means today I was supposed to be at work from 11-8 pm. While provided with the option to switch out my late day to Thursday, I couldn't because I'm hitting the road for Nashville via Louisville on Thursday evening, so staying in the office until 8 pm was out of the question. I knew coming in today that I wouldn't be spending the whole day at work.

I took a late lunch with a co-worker, and before we went to his place to eat our Lean Cuisines, we stopped by Malloy's and I stocked up on some delicious beers to tide me over for the next couple of days while I wait this storm out. We left at 2:45, and when we got back an hour later, cars were exiting the parking lot and people seemed to be leaving. When I got into the office, I was told to go home. And not the usual "go home because you're here later than everyone", but "go home because we're closing the building and you have to leave." So I made a few phone calls to let my important people know I might not be in the office for the rest of the day, and left.

All in all, the commute wasn't that bad. Normally, I would take Naper Blvd south to Bolingbrook and head home, however, since Naper is a major exit off of I-88, and my previous experience on said route during inclement weather being incredibly frustrating, I decided to play my cards and go down Washington through downtown Naperthrill. It worked! I made it home in about 45 minutes, besting the hour+ it took during the last, less substantial storm.

I'm going to post pictures of all this, but I haven't set up an account at a picture sharing website to link to, so those will have to wait.

I WAS however, very excited to receive my two books in the mail that I recently ordered from Amazon (shameless plug, expect those because I'm very brand-loyal. For instance, I have a PAID subscription to Amazon Prime, and you should too). The details of which I will detail in a later post.

OK, well that's enough deferring of activities for now, I'm going to take some pictures and carve out a semi-usable walkway at the front of my mother's home. When I return, more posts!!! YAYAYAYAY!!!!

SNOWPOCALYPSE

Here in Chicagoland, Humanity’s Theme Park, we get all sorts of fun weather. This is often referred to in great hyperbole, with anecdotes such as “you know you’re a Chicagoan if you’ve used your heat and A/C in the same day,” and other such Foxworthian phrases. One that I’m fond of is the old adage, “there are two seasons in Chicago: winter and construction.”

Well, it’s Winter here in our fine metropolitan area, and the big story right now is what is being humbly referred to as “SNOWPOCALYPSE.” Beginning this afternoon, the combination of heavy snow and high winds are going to bring a pretty interesting couple of days. Lucky for you, I’m here to document the proceedings. Right now I’m at work, typing this in Word, so any pictures will begin there. I never imagined this would be a breaking news blog, and I don’t intend it to be, but I’d like to give myself something to do in the absence of any profound thoughts or burning issues to discuss.

LETS GET OUR SNOW ON, INFADELICIOUS!!!

on Fuck

It's the verbal orgasm. True, it is often overused, and I say that from experience. But it hurts to hear. It can be a violent and violating, and it can be jubilant. In fact, it can be anything you want. It's the most versatile word in the world's most versatile language: English.

FUCK (!!!)

I respect many people who strongly disagree with the use of the word and I certainly understand the sentiment. I can vaguely recall many a drunk conversation where my intention was to articulate a sensible and well-reasoned statement and the execution just ended up being me stringing together a series of "fuck's" like so many kernels of popcorn on a Christmas tree. However, in that circumstance, I do the word a disservice rather than giving it power. I say that because casual, nonchalant usage will dilute the power of the word over time. To me, that's a shame.

However, I still feel it holds a unique place in our language:

"What the fuck? That fucking fuck took my fucking shit. After I fuck him up, I'm going back to my place to fuck."

LOL wow, that's a horrifying passage right there. But it's there for a reason. The intention is to point out that the word can be used as a verb, noun, adjective, and adverb. Maybe even more, but grammar is the province of professional writers, English teachers, and the zeros out there who pay constant vigil to what those around them say to correct them on their pronunciation of "homage". I never paid much attention or effort into memorizing the "rules", just because I confidently assumed that the patterns of usage that I built as I was maturing contained the rules, and as long as I don't deviate from those norms, expending the effort to memorize the what, why, and how of the language was simply not worth the energy. Plus I'm fucking lazy.

I find the passage beautiful because it shows the inherent challenge that the English language presents. There are few "rules" and many conventions. This allows one with command of the language to exercise a flexibility of expression that cannot be achieved within any other human language. That same flexibility also makes it more difficult to learn and command, because there is an exception to every rule and pronunciation conventions vary wildly.

My appreciation of Fuck isn't wholly academic. It's also very visceral, decidedly unacademic, and entirely immature, no matter how deeply I reason its' usage.

To Be, or Not To Be?

Ideally, this will be its own thing. Its own life, out there in the cloud. But for now, it's me.

You'll have to forgive me, I'm a little rusty at this. Prone to distraction, I've lost my way. At one point, this act would be largely effortless.

But now, it's pain.