It’s About Time: Bud, Beon, and the Bots

kcoartsplit1

Sunday, July 2, 2017—This is a scene from my novel, a decades-old perpetual work in progress.  Superficially sci-fi, it is based on a philosophy that life is immortal, everything has consciousness, and everything runs its course then evolves into something else.  Time and space are illusions within a “spacious present.”  Death is like a phase change–like water converting to steam–while retaining the essential qualities of water.  From this perspective, there is no end point, and the process is the goal.

The purpose of the novel is to make you smile.  Let me know if you want more.

CHAPTER 4

CAUSE AND EFFECT

The sun, shining through dingy, crocheted curtains, cast a mosaic of light and shadow across the worn rug. By the angle of the light and content of the shadows, Joe knew it was at least 11 AM.

His head throbbed with an intensity of 200 on a one-to-ten scale.  The light hurt his eyes, but he didn’t have the courage to move.  He remained curled stiff, eyes clenched shut, until his bladder forced him to attempt the impossible and get out of bed.

He moaned, then winced.  He eased to a slouching position at the edge of the bed, resting his aching forehead between tender hands.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he stood and staggered to the bathroom, carefully shielding his eyes from the light.  He downed two aspirin and then a third, to abort the stroke he must be having.  It was at least a stroke. Maybe an aneurysm had burst.  He stared into the mirror.  Images of his certain, agonizing, and imminent death spread like acrid black goo across his quivering brain.

“I’m dying,” he told his haggard face. It stared back at him—coldly critical, his appearance substandard today, even for him.  He and his reflection eyed each other.  He noted the dark eye sockets, red eyes, fuzzy vision, chin stubble, wrinkles, and greasy hair.  He didn’t smell too good, either.  Let the embalmer handle it, he decided.  That’s what he’s paid for.

He trod a wobbly path through the living room to the kitchen, where the percolator was full of yesterday’s grounds.  His stomach wasn’t feeling much like coffee, but his head told him he was in caffeine withdrawal.  He cursed Marian for getting him so drunk that he forgot to prepare the coffee pot.  He imagined her boiling in a vat of coffee, begging for mercy.

Suddenly, Beon’s face loomed across Joe’s inner screens.  The balding, round visage grinned like the Buddha, his eyes innocuous, his portent ominous.  Joe’s head pounded harder, and his knees felt weak.  An image of lab rats, pinned to boards and randomly shocked, blotted out Beon’s face.  Then, the lab rats became little Joes, with Beon delivering the shocks.

Joe listed the objective, measurable reasons for his agony.  Unendurable pain. Undetectable caffeine levels. Betrayal by his only friend.  Violation of sacred coffee ritual, and death without absolution.  Beon.  He threw fresh coffee in the pot, spilling half the grounds on the counter, creating yet another reason to feel miserable.

Percolator finally started, Joe turned to face new trouble.  He opened the freezer and scowled at empty ice trays.  The little Joes in his head jumped and slumped.

He dragged his failing carcass to the couch. He imagined the pain in his head could power a small city, if he could figure out how to harness the energy.  Not today, though.  And tomorrow wasn’t looking too good, either.

Beon’s face returned, and with it, thoughts of the healing machine.  Joe wondered if it could cure his headache.  “Yes,” said Beon’s image.

“Who asked you?”  Joe demanded, not realizing he spoke out loud.

“You did.”  Joe decided he was going crazy, too.  “DALE,” said the face.  “Diet-Associated Life Enhancer.”

Joe covered his ears, but it did no good.  Beon’s image swelled in his head, and dream pictures bombarded his brain, rocking his scientific foundations.  The throbbing and pounding got louder, clanging against his skull.  Joe closed his eyes and waited to die.  Through it all, Beon’s face smirked, as if he enjoyed Joe’s suffering.

But death defied him, and Beon continued to grin.  Joe glanced around the room.  A single picture, hung askew, showed a listing clipper ship, an artifact left by the previous tenant.  George White left a few pieces of tired furniture, too, good enough for Joe.  His mailbox in the foyer downstairs still bore White’s name.  When neighbors called him “George,” Joe didn’t bother to correct them.  It was as good a name as “Joe.”

Now Joe wondered for the first time what happened to George White.  His couch may not look great, but it had personality.  It was warm, comfortable, inviting.  It was friendly.  It was taking care of him, helping him feel better, as a friend would do.

“I have tangible evidence that you existed,” he told the former tenant, “even if we’ve never met.  I still get your mail.  Beon is only imaginary, but he’s torturing me, and I can’t get away from him.”

Joe’s eyes began to blur.  His stomach felt queasy.  Vague terrors swept over him, and sweat poured from his upper body.  He wiped his face with a dirty napkin and dropped it on the floor.  “This is only a hangover.  It clouds my perspective, makes me think crazy thoughts.  It was only a dream.  A machine like that is impossible, and Beon doesn’t exist.”

Memories, June, 2007

 

coldhr0807

Above:  The Department of Human Resources (DHR) building in Columbus, GA

In June, 2007, I was finishing a short term psychiatry contract in the public health system in Columbus, GA.  Columbus is one of Georgia’s largest cities, on the Alabama border, and home to Fort Benning, one of Georgia’s largest military bases.

In August, 2007, I would attempt to retire from psychiatry, by letting both Georgia medical licenses and federal DEA licenses expire.  The stress was literally ruining my health.  Seeing patients was my favorite part, but the system itself was so dysfunctional that I risked everything if I missed a call.

BUILDING DESIGN

Saturday, June 2, 2007 – I fantasize about taking a sledgehammer to the walls at work.  It’s a maze, inefficient, unnecessarily confusing, and downright dangerous, with too many blind alleys, locked doors, and long, narrow halls.  Everything is so disconnected from everything else that the entire organization functions like a mindless blob of quivering protoplasm.  Individual effort dies in situ, never achieving enough momentum to spread beyond the 12’ X 12’ walls of the private offices.

These offices all have the  latest electronic equipment and programs, though, upgraded too often to be useful.  But they have zero reference books, so I bring my own.   I had to retrieve my own DSM-IV from the 500-foot walk to my other office, because the computer only takes diagnosis numbers rather than words.  I have not memorized diagnosis codes and never intend to.   Of course, the intake office does not have a DSM-IV.

HEAVEN

Saturday, June 2, 2007 – Anybody ever consider that heaven is not having to pay taxes?

traincol0407

 

WASTE OF TREES

Sunday, June 3, 2007 – Columbus is full of railroad tracks.  As I negotiated 15th Street and around a tangle of other streets, I went under a RR trestle where Norfolk-Southern cars filled with fresh wood chips, piled high, smelled the air of pine.

How sad for those trees, I thought.  Their chopped chips are probably going to make junk mail, paperwork, and packaging.  This while their fellows are burning in a hundred square miles of uncontained forest fire in southeast Georgia.

CURRENT EVENTS

Thursday, June 7, 2007 – I’m becoming bored with current events.  I’ve had fun on the internet message boards, but the columnists remain uninspired – from my perspective – and I battle basic assumptions, like the belief that competition is good.  So, I approach it with the cavalier feather stroke of playfulness.  I balance discussions about nuclear proliferation in Iran with questions about paranoid counter threat tactics by the US.  How much are taxpayers paying for nuclear proliferation under our noses at home?

Lah de dah  . . .

Another world, another opportunity to blow it up, or not, depending on your reference point.  Worlds split off from each other, I believe, and those who believe in nuclear holocaust may well travel along a world chain of events toward that outcome.

Moi?  I’ll let that car pass on by, to avoid being swept up in that drive chain.  I see myself as an illusion-popper, clarifying ambiguities, flipping coins, turning phrases, bringing a sense of hopefulness through flexible thinking and clever (to me) juxtapositions.

Slowly, I see others becoming more confident, more outspoken, more imaginative.  Less victims, more involved, responsive, and reflective.

GONNADOS

Friday, June 8, 2007 – The world is overrun with “gonnados” who expect others to pay huge up-front costs for questionable future rewards.  There was an online Washington Post column extolling the new president of Arizona State University, for his grand vision of developing better communications between Americans.  President Crow starts by firing 20 of 23 deans on the faculty.  This communicates clearly to me.

Next, he creates lots of programs – a biodiversity center, for one – in order to make Arizona State a bigger place, competitive with Harvard and the like.

Another empire builder, think I.  I post my view that he’s another “ivory tower elitist with more theories than sense, standing on a soapbox bought with other people’s money.”  Another megalo-maniacal world changer, think I.  Yawn.

He talks about “stovepipe” mentality, but if he has replaced most of the deans, he’s just creating a different stovepipe for those he’s indebted to, or who share his agenda.

PRESCRIPTION SNAFUS

Thursday, June 14, 2007—I discovered yesterday that writing a prescription for something like Geodon doesn’t necessarily mean the patient will get Geodon.  Yesterday’s patient got four days’ worth of samples because that’s all the pharmacy had, so by the time I saw her, she hadn’t taken it for over three weeks.  By then both she and I decided she didn’t need it.

I’m beginning to wonder if these meds work at all.  As Seth* says, your beliefs determine your reality.  Those who improve give the pills the credit, but I’m not so sure. Antidepressants like Prozac “change your brain chemistry,” they say, but so does any life experience, and the fact of going to the doctor may change it even more.  Perhaps pills are merely transitional objects, tools to link mind with body, as valid for relieving suffering as faith.

I wonder how many people would take antidepressants and the like if they were over the counter.  To hold the claim of potency to the measuring stick of free market capitalism would be an experiment worth trying.

SIMPLICITY

Saturday, June 16, 2007 – Everything has always seemed so simple and obvious to me, issues of right and wrong, justice, fairness.  As I have come to know myself, I’ve shed projections from others, thanking psychiatry for teaching about projections and projective identification.  Psychiatry supplies the words to describe confused feelings.  People’s lack of clarity leads them to assume way too much and act accordingly.

I grew up believing I was potentially a brutally violent person, in need of rigid self-control, yet I’ve learned the opposite is true.  My childhood question, “Why can’t people just love each other?” remains as valid today as ever, and I’ve yet to learn the answer.  My nature has been to look for things to like, and I can usually find something, especially if I’m in a situation not easy to leave.

I’ve always felt safe and protected, though, not only by parents – although they certainly helped – but by life.  Not flamboyantly psychic, I suppose, I’m merely supersensitive emotionally, although there is no objective standard to measure this.  I don’t even believe I’m supersensitive, merely more aware than others, and more trusting of my perceptions.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

chrivsunset051316

Sunday, June 17, 2007 – My desire for solitude stems from a wish to know myself apart from others’ projections and judgments.  I suppose even as a child I was trying to reconcile what I felt with what adults said, and with what I saw.  Basic truths boil down to one truth:  God is love, and I want to do god proud, I will aspire to demonstrate her love in every thought, word, and deed.

It sounds sappy, inconsistent with my tendency to scream things like “Back off, asshole!” to the gas guzzling red truck tail-gaters with mag wheels and attitudes.  This is innately loving, I figure, because if I didn’t yell or otherwise show him where his rights end and mine begin, how would he learn?  If he already knew, he wouldn’t be tailgating.  And just because he’s behaving like an asshole now, it’s not necessarily a character trait, especially if he backs off or passes.  The loving hand of God therefore works through me to teach such testosterone-poisoned creatures how to grow in grace, in terms they can understand.

I’ve found taking my foot off the gas works, too, if yelling doesn’t, and I’ve allowed many such a creature to rush ahead to a destiny too frenzied for me.

DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA, ALEXIS DE TOCQUEVILLE, 1835 AND 1840

Monday, June 18, 2007 – de Tocqueville cites the lawyer class in America as the equivalent of the aristocracy, and the jury as the means by which every citizen sits in judgment over every other.  It strikes me that we do have a society that looks to laws to solve social problems, and perhaps the preponderance of lawyers in government has distorted our national perspective.

DRUG LAWS

Thursday, June 21, 2007 – I flip flop from thinking the drugs I prescribe are dangerous to thinking they are useless, validating Seth’s* assertion that the belief determines the effectiveness.  I really do believe drug laws create an artificial mystique about their effects.  Everyone would claim this is doctor turf, the license to prescribe, but I contend that this is a front for the government and pharma to falsely inflate the price, as well as presumed benefits and risks.

 

viagrafda070105

 

*Seth is the channeled entity who spoke through medium/author Jane Roberts.  There are several books in the Seth series.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Addictive Thinking

by Katharine C. Otto, M.D.
January, 2002

Loosely defined, addiction is any attachment that compromises free will.  Addictive compulsions become problematic when they take precedence over more important life concerns, in defiance of reason and good judgment.

Everyone can identify with some measure of addictive thinking. Understanding your own compulsions – whether eating, exercising, working, television, sex, lifestyle, or even a prevailing mood, like anger, sadness, or guilt – helps to appreciate that the difference between addicts and non-addicts is merely a matter of degree.

With addiction you feel powerless, victimized, or lacking in free will. Thus, the first of the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous states, “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable.” The key words here are “powerless” and “unmanageable,” because the substance could just as easily be tobacco or food.

When your compulsion becomes your priority, affecting more important areas of your life, such as health, relationships, work, or society at large, you become diagnosable. At this point every choice you make is colored by your addiction. For this reason, addiction treatment and AA emphasize making recovery a priority – a concept hard to grasp by many addicts, who fight this step because it is so powerful. Making recovery a priority and “walking the walk” on a day-to-day basis requires conscious choice and confers over time confidence in your ability to change your life. This subtle change in thinking from “power over” to “power to” reflects a shift from the role of victim to that of a responsible, self-directed individual.

Recovery is a growth process, requiring time to mature.  Building a healthy sense of self within the context of the environment takes patience.   We live in an addictive society, and enablers abound. Our systems foster and perpetuate dependency. Mainstream assumptions that the answers are “out there” lead us to doubt our own inner wisdom, yet relying too heavily on external authority eventually results in disappointment, victimization, and power struggles. Power struggles with either internalized or external authority eventually must be balanced by a cooperative spirit.

Relapse is part of the disease of addiction. Addictive thinking includes a rigidly held set of rules, whether consciously acknowledged or not. When these perfectionistic – and frequently unrealistic – rules are violated, the addict will often give in to his underlying sense of powerlessness and intensify his self-destructive activity, becoming a victim once again. Here, the power struggle is within himself, but the whole self loses in the see-saw struggle between “absolute control” and “out of control.”

In the past, addiction treatment took a punitive approach to relapse, but the winds are shifting. The addict who relapses already feels like a failure, and the punitive approach reinforces his negative self-image. At this point he is likely to run from treatment, if he is not reassured about the relapsing nature of addiction and the importance of keeping the relapse short.

Addictive thinking presupposes boundary confusion, a lack of definition of where you end and the next person begins. This inability to establish and maintain appropriate boundaries contributes to the escapism of addiction, and this leads to physical and/or emotional isolation. The “higher power” of Alcoholics Anonymous can just as easily refer to society as it does to a god, because the group is stronger than the individual. It helps set boundaries when the addict is unwilling or unable to do so. It’s also good for supporting the recovering addict in his strengths. For this reason, addiction treatment relies heavily on group process.

Everyone is susceptible to negative attachments, to situations and circumstances that lead to unwise choices. Addictive belief systems perpetuate those attachments, employing such tactics as victimization, power struggles, perfectionism, impatience, and deception. As the recovering addict walks the walk, he learns through everyday experience how to avoid those pitfalls and live a more fulfilling life.

 

Involuntary Manslaughter?

Twenty-year-old Michelle Carter was convicted last week of “involuntary manslaughter” for encouraging the suicide of her friend Conrad Roy III, in July, 2014. While I’m not surprised by the outcome, I’ve always wondered if anyone should be held responsible for another person’s actions, up to and including suicide and murder.

The law says they should.  Psychiatrists, in particular, can be held liable if their patients–present or past–kill themselves or anyone else.  A mere hint of “suicidal ideation” in an emergency room is enough to get someone committed to psychiatric hospitalization, at least for an observation period of up to 72 hours.

That homeless people, alcoholics, drug addicts, and those escaping the law or outside enemies use this ploy to obtain “three hots and a cot” on cold or stormy winter nights is common knowledge in the medical world.  There are also the drug seekers, who hope to receive controlled substances to alleviate their pain.  While others want to blame the patients, I look to the crazy-making system itself. Those who learn to “work the system” are only doing what they believe is necessary for survival.

The professional’s challenge and dilemma is always to determine intent to act. Psychiatric evaluation is meant to assess the seriousness and immediacy of the threat.  It includes questions about access to weapons, past attempts, serious stressors (like medical diagnoses, relationship breakups, financial crises, for instance), level of intoxication (if any), mental stability (such as psychosis) and other possible contributing factors to the person’s distress.

In most cases, a 24-hour hospitalization is enough to alleviate the symptoms and allow a person to be discharged safely.  By morning, most people have changed their minds, at least until the next time.  Those who are truly suicidal can remain in the hospital for weeks, months, or even years, although this is becoming rarer. Psychiatric hospitals are so crowded that there’s constant pressure to discharge as soon as possible, or at least as soon as insurance coverage ends.

Bottom line is potential suicidality is taken very seriously in the medical and psychiatric world, and each case is different.  Although it is an ethical no-no for psychiatrists to diagnose or analyze people they have not personally examined, I deduce from news reports that there were a number of factors playing into the Carter case, including the un-examined belief that anyone can prevent anyone from doing what they intend to do.

News sources say Mr. Roy had attempted suicide four times in the past.  Ms. Carter met him in 2012, had emotional and mental problems of her own, and needed to be needed.  She fancied herself a helper, and up until the last two weeks of his life, she tried to convince him not to kill himself.  Then she suddenly changed tack and began encouraging him to act on his threats.  She even ordered him back into the carbon-monoxide filled vehicle when he became scared and got out.  Most of this was done long-distance, say the reports.

Witnesses for the prosecution claimed her motive was attention, as she was communicating various moves in this two-year dance to a variety of other people. It’s not clear whether anyone intervened or tried to break up this dangerously destructive dynamic.  Was this so-called need for attention a desperate cry for help by Ms. Carter herself?  Apparently Ms. Carter at one point encouraged Mr. Roy to seek professional help, but did she consult anyone herself about this problem? Chronically suicidal people can be exhausting, even for professionals, when they begin to manipulate for sympathy, attention, or to control the relationship.  At what point does the helper give up and say (or think), “Quit talking about it and just do it.”?

I don’t mean to excuse Ms. Carter for her actions.  She apparently gave a lot of bad advice over a long period of time, and she was way out of her depth.  Who can ascribe motive? For all anyone knows, Mr. Roy may have killed himself sooner if not for Ms. Carter’s friendship.  I happen to believe suicide is a personal choice.  I don’t recommend it, but I also believe we all choose our time to die, on some level.  We only differ in how we do it.

Political Climate Change

I’ve followed the “global warming,” then the “climate change” controversy for a number of years and have a number of reservations about the terms being used, the focus on “greenhouse gases,” and the almost religious fervor “climate scientists” adopt when pushing their agenda.

I’m an amateur scientist, at best, a “life scientist,” who still believes observation is the best science there is.  I can’t deny the environment is changing, becoming de-vitalized, and I also believe mankind plays a significant role.  That and other transgressions against fellow man and nature have made me ashamed to be human. I look to my pets and nature to restore my belief that nature will survive, even if humans poison or nuke themselves out of existence.  It may take awhile, and the earth may generate a variety of mutant life forms, but nature will win in the end. Best to make a friend of her.

While I am no scientist, I’ve taken more undergraduate and post graduate science courses than most Americans have.  I’ve taken biology, botany, inorganic and organic chemistry, physics, biochemistry, and a variety of medical science courses. I’ve done published research, too.  The last showed me the limitations of the “scientific method,” which assumes cause and effect and must control for variables. The primary rule in Western scientific research is that you can have no more than one variable.  You begin with a hypothesis that you want to prove or disprove.  You “control” for variables, meaning you have a treatment group and a “control group.” In other words, you create artificial circumstances to suit your study design and outcome you want or expect.

Contrast this with the Oriental pattern-based approach, which embraces variables and looks for patterns among them.  The presumption is nature is composed of interactive processes that enhance or mitigate each other.  Everything is connected in a large, multi-dimensional web.

When it comes to the environment, it’s impossible to limit research to one variable and determine cause and effect.  We know what came before, and we use computer models to predict what will come next.  We want to attribute causes to “climate change,” and have focused on CO2 and other “greenhouse gases,” specifically methane/natural gas (CH4).

I contend this is too simplistic.  First we are technically at the end of an ice age, so planetary warming is at least partly natural.  Carbon is the basic building block of life, an element, that can combine with many other atoms to create a variety of molecules.  The difference between inorganic and organic chemistry is based on whether the substance under study has carbon.  Methane/natural gas is the simplest hydro-carbon there is.  It is part of the life-cycle, and every decaying life form produces it.  Cow farts (which have been blamed for adding to greenhouse gases) and human farts all contain methane, as do other life form farts.  It rises from the marsh and from landfill.

Carbon dioxide, CO2, the demonized poster child of the “climate science” religion, is the chief nutrient of plant photosynthesis, the process that combines carbon from the air with light to create food for the plant, and thus for every creature that eats plants.  Carbon dioxide comprises significantly less than one percent of the atmosphere.  By comparison, oxygen makes up 21 percent.  If carbon dioxide is the primary culprit in climate change, then overpopulation, with more people exhaling CO2 and farting methane, is a significant factor in the production of greenhouse gases CO2 and methane.

No one of the scientists has addressed the fact that burning one molecule of methane/natural gas (CH4) produces two molecules of water for every one of CO2. Apparently none of the computer models programmed to track carbon emissions and predict climate change factors in the enormous amount of water added to the environment with the burning of fossil fuels.  Water vapor is another “greenhouse gas” in fact, as anyone who has ever visited a greenhouse knows.  What is the effect of cloud cover on the earth below?  What is the effect of all the mass of buildings, highways, and parking lots?  These have replaced forests and fields, which played a role in keeping the earth cool and absorbing rainwater before it flooded.  Has anyone accounted for the thermals (vortexes of hot air rising from cities) creating fronts that change weather patterns all around?

The Industrial Revolution begun with the cheap abundance of coal and is intricately intertwined with its advance.  This closely followed major other changes in paradigms, specifically Isaac Newton’s discovery of gravity, and the subsequent mechanistic view of the universe.  The mechanistic paradigm brought “determinism,” which separated life (and god) from science.  The idea that the universe functions like a machine, with everything governed by knowable physical laws, contradicted the Biblical presumption of free will.

We have made a quantum leap from Newtonian physics with Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity and quantum mechanics.  At the atomic and subatomic level, there is enormous variation and spontaneity within a larger order.  All of a sudden, free will becomes scientifically valid again, the experimenter does influence the experiment by expectation or desire, and cause-and-effect paradigms begin to lose relevance.

I’m more concerned about the effects of environmental toxins than the buildup of greenhouse gases.  The industrial revolution has led to unsustainable levels of toxic waste in air, water, and land, and we continue to dump poisons way worse than carbon dioxide into the world environment.  We are poisoning ourselves along with the insects, but insects reproduce faster and develop immunity quicker than human beings do.  Plastic, also containing hydrocarbon chains, release toxic chemicals, especially when heated, that Americans blithely drink in their bottled water.  We’re increasingly afraid of tap water because of contaminants in pipes and groundwater that we’re only beginning to recognize.

Yes, we are devitalizing and perhaps even killing the earth, but we need to broaden our scope to look at multi-factorial contributors.  It’s not a government problem to solve.  We should look to ourselves as individuals, a nation of excess and waste. Don’t depend too much on salaried scientists, whose primary obligation is to their government, university, and corporate employers.  They agree with each other in finding simple targets and ignoring the greater industrial pollution that continues as fast as it can generate profits on Wall Street.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The View from Below

DSC01953

I shoveled the dock steps the other day.  This was part of my latest health initiative, with the purpose of swimming in the river.

Now, most people don’t have a dock or concrete steps to a polluted river where they can swim.  Most people haven’t grown up on said river and watched it change gradually over the past 60 or so years.  It is a blessing and a curse.

While doing this mundane labor, which with clean-up took about two hours, I had time to ponder many worldwide concerns.  First, I listened to the constant buzz of helicopters at Hunter Army Airfield, only a couple of miles–as the helicopter flies–from my house.  There were also military aircraft flying overhead, as I live only 28 degrees off Hunter’s flight paths, and those planes fly low, low, low over my head. This reminded me that the US is engaged in perpetual wars, and I live in a war zone, what with the strong military presence loud, clear, and constant.

Next, I thought about the Clean Water Act of 1972, when the Army Corps of Engineers got jurisdiction over all “wetlands” including the “hydrophytic” marsh that surrounds my small spit of land.  I wondered if the AC of E would fine me for taking mud off the steps and depositing it in the center of my land, which is mine but not mine in that I pay property taxes but can’t modify it.  This spit of land has been sliding into the river for years and now becomes flooded in spring and fall tides.  The channels in the area are also filling in, because no one dredges them anymore, even though the drainage ditches are perpetually clogged and contribute to frequent, severe flooding in Savannah.

DSC01955

The local movers and shakers would prefer to dump poisonous malathion by helicopter on the entire ecosystem than drain the bogs where mosquitoes breed. That the Army Corps of Engineers pays Chatham County to control mosquitoes, yet operates the largest mosquito habitat in two states does not seem important to anyone but me.  That the dredge material from current harbor deepening project will increase the mosquito habitat at this international port presents no red flags to those who are developing vaccines for mosquito-borne disease but are blithely nonchalant about the cushy habitat they are creating.

This brings me home to the polluted river, which still has fish and shrimp, but not as many as in my childhood.  I figure if fish can swim in it, so can I.  I’ve been stomping around, crabbing, shrimping, boating, water skiing, and swimming in that water since I can remember, so know it well.  While shoveling, I thought about “climate change,” and the claim that the oceans are rising.  I also remembered reading about how land is washing into the oceans and wondered if the oceanic rise is relative to the land’s sinking, in a leveling out that would lead to the oceans’ getting shallower. Shallow water heats more quickly than deep water, as any swimmer knows, and holds more heat, so this could explain some of the climatic changes.

So then I thought about President Trump’s withdrawal from the Paris Accord and wondered whether it makes any difference in the long run.  I’ve never been a fan of government solutions to government-supported problems, like the fact that deforestation is a major contributor to climate change.  I don’t believe in paying corporations not to cut trees (as in “carbon credits”) and would prefer instead to reduce demand for paper, like junk mail and single-use packaging.  International Paper, the owner of primo rain forest in South America, and a huge polluter of the Savannah River and air, does not recycle paper.

That got me to thinking about the enormous amount of methane produced by the marsh, the fact that methane and natural gas are the same thing, and that Germany is the world’s leader in recycling (70%).  In addition, Germany has to import garbage to fuel its waste-to-energy plants that provide so much of its heat and electricity. There is also new technology to capture methane produced by landfill, but the US lags behind places like China in its adoption of these promising technologies.  No wonder Angela Merkel was frustrated by Trump’s withdrawal from the Paris Accord. Germany is the world leader in sustainability, and should be so acknowledged.

So, Donald Trump may believe coal gives the US a financial advantage, but this is short-sighted.  Apparently China is the largest purchaser of US coal exports, but China built 431 waste-to-energy plants in 2016, so it may not need our coal much longer.  With the reduced cost of solar, India is also going greener.  China is the biggest carbon-emission nation in the world, and the US is second.  Russia is third, and India fourth, according to Google 2011 data.  Americans probably generate the most waste, though, 4.5 pounds of garbage per person per day, and recycling has decreased, now down to about 30 percent.

So, while I solved my personal problem of how to swim without getting mud between my toes and oyster shell cuts on my feet, I also solved a lot of world problems, and I never had to leave home.

 

 

 

 

The Problem with Immortality

Several people have stated over the years that man’s biggest problem is overpopulation.  These are usually people who have propagated and have adult progeny who have also propagated.  I don’t believe they were volunteering to be euthanized themselves, so the obvious question becomes one of who gets chosen to solve the overpopulation problem.

As I move through time and reach official “retirement” age, my perspective has changed.  I see the uncomfortable dilemma of feeling superfluous on the planet, reinforced by a youth culture that obviously or covertly resents the Baby Boomers for having robbed the universal till to secure comfortable retirements for themselves.

If the world is overpopulated, then war, disease, and famine work to right the scales.  If the mystics and other seers are right, there are many dimensions beyond the physical one, and many worlds being created all the time.  Even the astrophysicists say the universe is expanding.  Isaac Asimov anticipated overpopulation in his first sci-fi novel, Pebble in the Sky.  In that futuristic book, entire galaxies had been colonized, and there was mandatory euthanasia on Earth at age 60.  Other sci-fi novels present similar scenarios

It appears death is necessary in physical reality, to make room for new life.  If everyone were physically immortal, and lacking room to expand, the Earth would become crowded with humanity, as some claim has already happened.  Longevity is blamed, along with other factors.

The dilemma of immortality—or longevity—becomes one of what to do about overcrowding?  Presuming people continue to be born, a race of immortal beings that requires physical space must live somewhere.  Thus do the sci-fi novels delve into colonizing other places or, as in Pebble, making euthanasia mandatory.

When animal populations grow too large for their habitats, and if they can’t move, self-correcting mechanisms serve to reduce the population.  In human history, wars, disease, famine, infertility, homosexuality, abortion, infanticide, human sacrifice, expulsion, and even cannibalism have served that purpose.

Few would deny that Americans are the most wasteful people on the planet.  Not only is “consumerism” encouraged, but it is a source of pride for many.  It comes at a huge cost, though, as we must live in the garbage dump we are creating.  If overpopulation is the source of our problems–leading to war, pestilence, and all the other natural and unnatural mechanisms used to lighten the planet’s human load—then it makes social and personal sense to curb excess and waste.

My minimalist lifestyle represents a symbolic effort to curb my own excesses.  I chose not to have children, for instance.  I didn’t want children dependent on me, but I also recognized there are plenty of other people propagating, so my contribution in that sphere was unnecessary.

As I move through time, towards the age of superfluousness, and even towards a time of consuming more than I produce–along with my Baby Boomer cohort–I have to wonder if it becomes my social responsibility to get out of the way.  The growing support for physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia seems motivated in part by the perceived burdensomeness of the elderly.  The alternative, for those who still have some living to do, would naturally be to remain “productive,” useful, and to continue contributing in some way to society.

There is no cure for death, in the time-space construct we have chosen.  There is hope for healthy and happy longevity, one in which age does bring wisdom, grace, depth, and understanding—valuable commodities that money can’t buy.