Mini mag

Today I had splendid chocolate cake by the sea at the foot of the cliffs that face the South island. Many miles away, the peaks were laden with abundant snow. The sun shone bright, attempts toward spring are being made. Soon the seals will return, hauling their frames out of the waves where orcas fear to tread. Good times....

Ford: Like the worst uncle in the world. Always late, on the dole, living on the past, and gives his best somewhere else. Ford Tough!

Is nothing pure? No safety in this illusion either....

Great Journeys all together on a map

Conspiracy spoiler: chemtrails. One of the better write-ups on the subject

Gasp! Got air?

What a story: PapaJack Weil, Denver icon

This one goes back 120 generations

Mega edition

Six ways from sunday

As if two decades of watching 'COPS' weren't enough:

What is GEOS?
I dunno, but maybe my Arvada friends Bean and Tom, will.

Don't Look up: Canada

Dandelion rubber?

Snips from this nyt article on hurricanes in Florida:

A dangerous level of complacency

For many, though, the message has yet to register.

“My concern is that they will get the religion at the very last moment,” he said. “Then they want everybody to help them at the very last moment, a stroke of good luck: “there is hurricane amnesia.”

“It’s human nature,” an overconfidence in the strength of their homes.

Bring it down now: Jumping on Eggs

Nano: Why ask why; it may one day save us from ourselves, and other nonsense

Faith in humanity; bring on the pooting preacher!

From Peak Metals: What the world needs, Mr Hiemstra said, is “breakthrough thinking on every level about everything"

I see the latest in EcoJohns is propane incineration? (Maybe if it heats the outhouse!)
I dunno, why can't we continue to flush 16 gallons of drinking water each time?!?

Time Reckonings

and perhaps other complex astronomical.....stuff

This is amusing (what can afford not to be these days?), yet I dunno ?!?!? Of all the novel, buck-making schemes.....

Another on 'Green Crude'

USNews on Leaving America

Perhaps just in time, as Der Homeland is evermore being secured:
"an increasing number of international travelers have reported that their laptops, cellphones and other digital devices have been taken

The policies cover "any device capable of storing information in digital or analog form," including hard drives, flash drives, cell phones, iPods, pagers, beepers, and video and audio tapes. They also cover "all papers and other written documentation," including books, pamphlets and "written materials commonly referred to as 'pocket trash' or 'pocket litter.' "

Reading, reading, reading

Food: what the heck is in it?
And do we care any more?

En Masse Return

Well, I've meant to tell the horror story of my return flights to the new country for two weeks now. Perhaps the trauma has subsided enough finally that I should do so before I forget any more details.
Things that were good:
Having a couple of days following the load and send-off of the shipping container to 'chill' (being 96 fahrenheit, that's all one could do anyway) with my great friends, the Sheridans.
Relatedly, having all day really before my flight left to figure out the dismantling of the vintage Nishiki roadbike into a box for transfer. With my friends (they're always up for a challenge--they've two boys!).
Flight seating: I must have had some karmic backlog here because despite the circumstances my legs and I fared well.
As I get older I find that saying goodbye never gets easier; though I can count on subtle differences to 'keep it real'. Doing so this time around was harder knowing how much is not known about the trajectory of all of our lives. But there'd have been no goodbye without time spent!
Things that have given me more gray hair:
The baggage folks at Denver United did their best with my freakish load. They were capable, smart, patient and empathetic. They walked the line between cutting me slack and 'toeing the line' of their newly amended baggage rules.
I'd known it would be harder then ever (in our short memory) to buck the system or make good with the goods I was bringing. The bags and cartons were carefully selected for their qualities:
--multiple small bags for transfer\fold-up\strap to one another utility--these became a single carry-on with room to spare.
--A cheap ($5) cardboard carton (well the brand rocked--CAnnondale) reinforced to contain the aforementioned road bike in the cargo hold. Tommie and I worked for over an hour to take off various protruberant sharp bits and fit them in the carton. We did real good!
--A hardcase ordered special by Beth to protect and to carry her smaller(!) keyboard to New Zealand. Stuffed--to the chagrin of Customs I'm sure--with chocolate and other contraband.
--Two quite large, quite heavy checked bags (one a padded backpack, one a huge duffel) on which I'd spent at least two hours shifting the loads that morning in the Sheridans basement. Containing many winter clothes and other useful items. The scale at the counter started out saying 57 and 47 pounds, but in five minutes I was within legality and without penalty. It was stressful but amusing.
We negotiated the business end of things and (tho I knew it was coming) I payed several hundred dollars for the overweight and oversize keyboard in a case to make the flight. I was, of course (whose?) packing for two.

So I was through! It was almost as relieving as signing off on the container! With two hours to kill, I had a couple of microbrews and used the free wi-fi before I went through security (minor search) and caught the flight to LA. Step one down.
We were delayed on the tarmac for nearly an hour and the pilot gave contradicting explanations until we took off. The flight was quick (two hours and some?), and I was glad to have an hour and a half layover there instead of the EIGHT AND A HALF I'd had coming through before. Fatigue was apparently already creeping in, as I was confused by the time zone changeover, factoring in the delay, etc. Never the less, content that I did not have to collect my bags for transfer from domestic to International, I settled into the wi-fi area of THE International terminal where I'd spent the above mentioned day. After double checking the fact that I did not have to collect those checked bags with a concierge.
An hour or so later I sauntered (as much as one might through the JFK-ian tunnel that led to gate D-23, quite a walk actually) to find that it did not exist. Or rather it did, as I'd been assured along the (temporary construction) way, in fact it was the last gate. Except that at the end of the line, there was an escalator down to another level. No signs save the dividing up of 23 to B and C (A was nowhere to be seen). There was no staff at either gate, so I verified that the teens at gate B were catching a flight to Australia. Up and down the escalator to no avail again, and back out through the two security checkpoints in that tunnel asking all the way. Panic now rose, as the flight would leave in 15 minutes and I had no reason to believe that it existed in my vicinity. Authorities did not exist, only TSA 'specialists', all of whom assured me that it was over there somewhere. At this point a half dozen persons had looked at my ticket and could not diagnose where from the flight left. I was sweating.
No longer interested in being so helpless, I went ignored these assurances and pushed back out to the main (Penn Station-esque) hall. Swarming now with travellers to destinations all over Austral-Asia, I had to push my way through brazenly dull stares to get to the door or the terminal. Here, a venerable LA concierge looked at my ticket and said, "Air New Zealand, they leave from terminal 4, way over there"! He pointed around the u-shape to the end. I ran.
I pushed past the passengers dis-gorging from their petro-mobiles and sprinted around the U. I paused, and said 'there's no way', and then I ran on. It was close to a mile when I saw the ANZ signs. I ran into the nearly deserted door and around and through all of the dividers to...another security checkpoint. Sweat now poured off of me, having run through the LA evening dressed for a Southern hemisphere winter. I begged the staff to cut me some slack as we went through the x-rays. Off came the shoes. Beep. Violation. They marked me for search.
As I'd run into this terminal, my name was announced with the warning 'final boarding call'. Now I was soaked through my clothes, belongings spread out on a table, trying to find my passport and tie my shoes while a 20 year old young man went through the duty of asking me why I'd stuffed power bars in my coffee cannister. I beseeched him to free me as they made another announcement. That's me I said, brandishing my passport and noticing the time. He glanced around at his peers, and let me go.
Streaming items stuffed back in my bag, clothes flying I ran headlong for the gate. This terminal was wide and finished, which meant I could juke and cut around people as I went. I now had a feeling simultaneous of despair and great humor, like a cosmic joke was being played on me. On the long mile run outside between terminals, I'd played likelihoods in my mind and determined that I really did not want to spend 24 hours at LAX, miserable and unpaid by work. That is why, when I came around the corner and saw the correct effing gate--I knew they would let me on. Even if they had to ferry me across the tarmac on a baggage truck to a speeding jumbo jet. I was getting on the plane. The staff didn't bat an eye. They radio-ed through to the locked and loaded plane that I'd turned up and I was sped onboard. Fellow passenger did bat an eye at the sweaty, disheveled guy with the half-cocked grin who got on the plane. Especially the two lovebirds I was seated next to--in the emergency aisle.
Fourteen hours later we arrived in Auckland at dawn. We were late, there was weather (winter had truly begun while I was in the States, as it has continued in that globally warming way), and I thought I was meant to collect my checked baggage for Customs. I waited for an hour at the carousel, another half hour at the claim area, and then I ran (yes to another terminal). Through the rain. It was cold--in the forties. Apparently I do clearer thinking at that speed.
Not only did they not have my bags (though only after time spent waiting did I find that they were to have gone on though to Wellington without collecting), but that they were not in the country. No one could tell me where they were.
So I ran to catch my connection to Wellington, because I had to win some battles, right?!?

I missed the plane. Directed to a ticketing desk, I was first made to understand that I would have to pay for another. I begged to differ, and they relented. An hour later I was on the last leg into Wellington.
In Wellington, the howling winds brought it below freezing. The seas had no regard for any of this, and as much as I was able, neither did I.

A new set of challenges had to be dealt with.

Postscript: The bags arrived two and a half days later.

More to read

Bigfoot is everywhere

Higher Learning: Berea College

the Green Boondoggle: 1.0. Hindsight

the Spoils of Patriots

(t)he Americans who built the nation's nuclear weapons are still fighting a cold war.

Tens of thousands of sick nuclear arms workers — have never seen a dime. (snip)
the government has derailed aid to workers by keeping reports secret from them, constantly changing rules and delaying cases until sick workers died.

Many ill workers have become mired in a process so adversarial that top program officials at one point considered putting some of them under government surveillance — spying on them

from the rOCKY mOUNTAIN nEWS

Someone else's idea

For that's what most of us are looking for, shopping you might say.

To that Sex in the City, Pyramid scheming, DOW obsessed, interior decorating, Oprah worshipping, man or woman I suggest that maybe, just maybe:

"YOU ARE NOT HERE TO BECOME HAPPY; YOU ARE HERE TO BECOME CONSCIOUS..."

Eckhart Tolle

Fall to Spring to Summer to Winter

There is so much to write about, yet I seem to have few words to say. I'll start with what's most remiss: my gratitude and thanks to those in the States. To those I did not see for their understanding, and especially to those with whom I was able to spend some time. It was rich.
Words cannot properly express (in a so-called normal visit) the joy and the pain, the pleasure and the gap in having that time together, Even harder in these days has it been to see you and carry onward.
The title is a reference to the temporal traipse that took me from the solstice in the Southern hemisphere to the other side of the world in it's (other) solstice. It could have been interstellar travel for all I knew as the reel of daily life had little reference save gravity's pull.
And I hate to use the descriptor, but it was surreal seeing everyone still carrying on in their lives. I don't know what I expected to see--and I was touched frequently at the poignancy I felt in each everyone's presence.
It is always such a tug at the heart to come (some say) home. I'd wondered if I was more vulnerable to that in the circumstances--and concluded i'd just see. Yet the same things that have always driven me mad with their power; the complacency, resignation, the apathy; racism, rationalization and distraction all in the midst of great intellegence; the trashing of a great land; the congestion, pollution and entitlement. It's still a drag, and there's evermore no excuse.
Never more in my life's experience has the bounty, the spoils of the world market been so apparent. Had I any sense, I may have loaded a container for a lifetime, maxing out my credit card, so cheap were the prices I was seeing in the midwest and Colorado. Candy, water barrels, books and clothes, building materials, make-up, you name it. For it is all.more.expensive.elsewhere.
But I was not thinking any more of a lifetime. The dream of building a home had been borne away, as if by some fierce channel winds. It was all I could do to just be. with whom. I was.
A lot of recovery was done while I was in the States. No one told me what to do (Bless You!)--we simply talked, did stuff, got some things that needed, done. Sorting through some physical boxes of, well things; just talking and being together was the best medicine I couldn't ask for.
One that there is no prescription for (me, yet) in New Zealand.

You have my eternal gratitude (in only an unweighted temporal, time order!):
Mom, Christopher, guy at the phone shop who set me up for pennies, the memory of my grandparents, Tom Mc, law enforcement between Ohio and Colorado for not suspecting me in my rented Soprano-mobile, North Coast Brewery (not a sponsor, unfortunately it's the other way around) the Sheridan family, Diana H., M&m Mars Co. and Darryl. Each of you really, really helped and enriched me.

Love, love love~~!

Jesse

Excellent reads

New Yorker: Turf Wars

Kiwi Solutions

The latest thing you've never heard of that could save our skin

More Fruits from our garden of eden

More stuff I liked

It's a gas, gas gas.

Road rage, desk rage?

More on bees: maybe it's simpler than previously thought.

Losing my religion: the Gospel of Consumption

World Heritage Sites: collect them from the comfort of home!

Hope for a life less Plastic:
the Blog

Cynical yet? super size indeed. No mention of the fact that it costs to re-design packaging the latest con

Solar: new directions?

I liked these

Vaccine + Flatulence + New Zealand???

Ack!: from the Brookings Institute

US Cities with the largest carbon footprints:

1. Lexington-Fayette, Ky.
2. Indianapolis
3. Cincinnati-Middletown, Ohio-Ky.-Ind.
4. Toledo, Ohio
5. Louisville, Ky.-Ind.
6. Nashville-Davidson-Murfreesboro, Tenn.
7. St. Louis

Do Unto your cell phone, before it's too late!

Recourse, and how!

Well, I notice that grueling and lonely have been two adjectives I've used recently in the blog. So it's time to clear away some cobwebs and air out some laundry. It's awfully stuffy in here.

It pains me to say that Beth and I will not be celebrating an anniversary this year, or presumably any other. Some of you already may know of what's happened in New Zealand, and though I've waited for weeks for the dust to clear and the air seem clearer, I see no reason to hide.
Who knows what it is really about?

When I asked questions she either had answers about which she was sure or she shrugged. She has always refused questions I’ve raised or connections I’ve made that weren’t felt by her then. Right then.
She has no answer to the point I’ve raised about having left so many friends, family and counselors behind us over the sea. She’s replaced them here with a revolving coterie of predominantly younger, single artist types. Ironically, the half dozen marrieds and\or couples we've made as friends have, for the most part been reduced to the background. It's tough when your married friends are suddenly no more.

I do not write these words for revenge. I write after having drawn inside myself for weeks now examining what I'd done wrong, why this is happening, what should I do now? All virtually unanswerable.
I write them because the truth is above all important to me. Even if there is no one here for me to share reality, it is no less itself, right? Whatever the words may mean to anyone else, I need to hold to objective truth, especially when it seems that there are none anymore. I've been unable to understand (who has?, what's to understand?!?).
Until recently I believed our marriage vows epitomized a truth, but life has a way of catching you broadside. I'm just clearing the decks.

So count your blessings, snuggle right tonight. I'll remember every one of you whose faith helped to hold me fast over the years. Never since I was a child did I feel so much hope and love as in marrying in your presence. I'll never forget it. Thank You!

Postscript: I'll be riding what's left of the grand intersea and air transport infrastructure into the States in a couple of weeks. Don't know what happens after that. I hope I can see you!

(My) Back Pages

A word from this blog's sponsor:

Been called crazy enough to fill a couple of handbaskets; so I dumped them out and paddled myself across the sea. While the dream makers had spun their golden webs and most Americans tried to hitch a ride on one or another bubble, I sat on the sidelines and tried to find a tribe. For years I did not. Now in a foreign land, I reap the loneliness that lay beneath my words for years. Whoever reads these words should expect hard times ahead, and no silver bullet or happy ending. Fortunately, most are smarter than I. Here's hoping you work fast, as well!

Poppycock? Bananas!

Why is this not a surprise? It's the Crusades 8.0

Had it once, in my yunger days: Squirrel soup

Creamy, dreamy derangement: Holidays on the Moon

Eye in the Sky: Helping products choose You!

"(I)n the 1990s, when Osama bin Laden was still giving interviews to journalists and didn't have a $50-million bounty on his head, one of his biggest grievances with the West was over the price of oil. At around US$30 a barrel, it was far too cheap, he reasoned. The Western world was ruthlessly bleeding the Middle East by not paying fair market value for oil. It had to be stopped. A more appropriate price? At least US$100 a barrel, he once said, maybe even US$200. Mission accomplished. "

R.I.P.

Utah Phillips

Reading

Lead: What you say!

Wine: don't think twice

Enjoy your mussels

Guerrilla Gardeners

Strange: Coherence : the Mirage Economy

Growing up: It's never too late

Death: It's what's after life

Words: Extinction

Nice Looks

Abandoned offices

More abandoned architecture

Plants for Life

Due Recourse

Friday a week ago, following the MAF Policy Conference and after several weeks of a grueling process including a panel interview, I found out that the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry hired me for a permanent role. I've accepted the position of MSO-Records in Wellington at MAF! I walked out that evening and shared a quietly joyous weekend with Beth, culminating in dinner out together on my 36th birthday. The tumult and insecurity of the last six months drained slowly away, and is being replaced by a necessity of purpose.
This follows our being invited to apply for Residence by NZ Immigration this season. This and the faith shown by my bosses in hiring me into a regular vacancy aids my confidence that the process go well in the coming months. Slowly, Beth and I have stacked a pretty good deck and await only the faceless beurocracy of NZ Immigration now. Here's hoping the current scandal over nepotism by it's head will not adversely effect us.
After joblessness, the most troubling foe has been Landlord Leaky's Moldatorium: a.k.a. our place.. Following the completion of our 6 month lease in early June, Beth and I are moving just over the hill to a sunny flat in Crofton Downs. That's the first stop on the train. Come by sometime, there's room.
Much of this has been hatched and plotted (Hell, all of it was) over the last few months. Dreams to reality. An example of Beth's efforts sown are birthing this weekend in her participation in the 48 Hour film festival that's taking place ( I believe worldwide) this weekend. She can tell you more about that. Mine will be borne on the wings of a jet airliner next month for a visit back to the home territories. I'm hammering out the details but, spirits willing, it will take a similar format to past tours. Cincinnati->Champaign->Denver are on notice!
I do this because we (I anyway, for the moment) can. Beth has little vacation time and will remain in Wellington. I bear little faith that the cost or ease of travel that the last generation has enjoyed will continue. Conversely, my love for friends and family is a greater motivator in the choice to do this now.

See you soon...

Reads

Foreclosed homes and Mosquito Fish

Hops Alert

Clearing House: Lock, stock and storage unit

Denver is Pedicab 2.0

What are Yawns?

Not. A. Showww.

Reads

Blowback: This is (who. we. are.) r.o.e to the homeland after they exported Democracy.

Conservative Kevin Phillips on a goose we all know and love: cooking the books.

What's for dinner?

Take a deep breath, but be choosy where.

the excellent new Orion's Gospel of Consumption

the Webby's are back!!!

Last month they did comedy sketches, now it's commercials. Ya gotta laugh too.

Internet reads I have enjoyed

This is far too rational for CBS News. "Waking Up From the American Dream"(?!?)

Peak Honey. So that's the mother lode! You saw it here first.
Not that you'll have toast to slather.....

Fun with opressors! O yeah, you've been embedded. How does it feeeeel?!?!?

Passing through the homeland: from the EFF. Another way the Feds keep ya safer.

Not even your shoes are safe, I tells ya! And this is fascinating anyway.

Owwch ! Dmitry Orlov:
"Many people in the United States don’t even bother to shop and just eat fast food. The drive to maximize profit while minimizing costs has resulted in a product that manipulates the senses into accepting as edible something that is mainly a waste product. Under strict process control procedures, agro-industrial wastes, sugar, fat and salt are combined into an appealing presentation, packaged, and reinforced by vigorous advertising. Once accepted, it beguiles the senses by its reliable consistency, creating a lifelong addiction to bad food. The chemical industry obliges with an array of deodorants to mask the sickly body odor such a diet produces. Immersed for a lifetime in a field of artificial sensory perceptions, dominated by chemical, man-made tastes and smells, people recoil in shock when confronted with something natural, be it a simple piece of boiled chicken liver or the smell of a healthy human body. Perversely, they do not mind car exhaust and actually like the carcinogenic “new car smell” of vinyl upholstery.

Since good taste is no longer on the menu, the focus shifts to quantity, resulting in appallingly sized portions of undifferentiated protein and starch drowned in fat, administered in national festivals of pathetic gorging, of which Thanksgiving seems to be the main one. But this is all good for business and keeps the cancer, diabetes and heart disease industries humming. This is all very unhealthy, and the effect on the nation’s girth is visible clear across the parking lot. A lot of the people, who just waddle to and from their cars, seem unprepared for what is coming next."

And on that (talking about what we can yet hardly let feel) note; there should be hope.

Last but (in other forums, all there is) not least. For the funny bone; someone's list of the worst music bequeefed by man or woman, on video....Though its smartly limits to the sixties and seventies.

So many frivolities, so little time

This is 'fun'. Before and after, without the in-between. I believe you say Fresh!

And just to counter the rabid intellectual freedom lovin, library geeks in the house:

OPEN ACCESS

Get it while it is!

The internet's quite a thing! And while we're looking at pictures, here are some good ones I've enjoyed of late......

Landscapes

Nature's Creep

What you don't know can't hurt ya

Unless it clubs you over the head, and takes your mocha latte.

NYT: "In Haiti, where three-quarters of the population earns less than $2 a day and one in five children is chronically malnourished, the one business booming amid all the gloom is the selling of patties made of mud, oil and sugar, typically consumed only by the most destitute.

“It’s salty and it has butter and you don’t know you’re eating dirt,” said Olwich Louis Jeune, 24, who has taken to eating them more often in recent months. “It makes your stomach quiet down.” "

And in the most densely populated areas of the world (China, Indonesia, India), New Zealand is brokering unprecedented trade agreements.

And also from the NYT:
“It is unprecedented,” Mr. Holle said. “Nobody saw these kind of market prices coming.”

No one my arse. The bulk of the United States, maybe. Where (for instance) despite journalism for once covering the effects of the corn boom and biofuels, people still are warming to ethanol as fuel! This in a nation where it is not daily survival, but health insurance and retirement that is worth our attention. {"Sicko, this is Whatever Happened to the Electric Car?; I believe you two have some things in common"} By the time Americans get used to (the outrage!) $4 gas, people in nations where it's seven dollars have already moved on with their blessed lives.

The "bitter" thing. Sidestepping the grandstanding press...So there's some good dialogue going now surrounding the 'bitter comments'--and none of it positively inspired by ABC and their debacle--I mean debate. Let's face it--there are a number of words that are off limits in certain political frames. This is one of them (denial, extinction, paradigm, evolve also come to mind--the use of them more strictly governed than we'd like to admit). Our collective lexicon is a more 'vaccum sealed' environment than it seems. O for shame a black man speak of a nation's prevailing reality--which the media have refused to acknowledge since they traded their best intentions for political favors and advertising dollars. Bitter? Well I miss decent television, good journalism and many of the values found outside DC, Vegas and Walt Disneyville. Is that so wrong?

What do Fido and Charlie the Tuna have in common?

And from the Wild North country, where freedom's still free and (Police)"do what police do"...(clues: transit fare + taser)

At least they're talking about the difference between BE-ING citizens, and consumers.

If you're feeling really brave.....ArtVoice. It ain't all cubists and nudes....

Many years ago Winston Churchill said: "Americans can always be counted on to do the right thing...after they have exhausted all other possibilities."

Convergence

If you've got a half an hour, Al's at it again. Laying it out there for anyone not yet 'embedded' with official truththink. I highly recommend it.

O, if instead I was paid to blog I'd spend hours fruitlessly casting stones at the zeppelin of fantasy that's replaced living. Beam us some sunshine, Today!

Upon the adding of another cell phone to the household:
Toys that make adults act like children and children feel like adults: Cellphones! Not just convenient! Cancerous! WooHoo--I'm modern!

Scrawled on the Wall

Now math was never my strong suit, but the language in this seems pretty clear.
"98.2 percent assessed the presidency of Mr. Bush to be a failure while 1.8 percent classified it as a success."
Bushwhacked

Mike Wallace

So sure, Mike lobbed softballs (whiffle balls actually) at Roger Clemmens this year in an interview. But at least history has all of this

Not sure what Americans are concerned with

Anymore, but I know John McCain hasn't any clue

The Big Dipper

takes a nap

Time, time, time.

Reading between the lines till it's back in style

Latest from Lovelock, 'genius', grandfather, and all around nuklear hombre

With all of the guides to manhood out there for all to consume, you'd think by now we'd be have ascended to some higher plane of sexiness, but here is where Men are. Truth is funnier than fiction. And fiction is what we do. Fullstop
You'd think for a culture that prides itself on seeing into the crystal ball of a glamorous future that the cliffhanger wouldn't seem so plain.
Ole!

Our Commander in Chief like to wax presidential by endlessly suggesting that one day, just you wait and see, we'll all look back and see how right he was. I think the lives lost and the billions of dollars he sent 'over there' might sing a more morbid hymn for the ages.
Seals in the sands.

Ma Rainey and Columbus?

Harlem to Anatarctica? Wouldn't be the first time they saved the world.



B-ball is back!!!!! Apple pie had Jason Biggs. Roger Clemmons is apparently as much a hero as Mark Twain. The 'where at least I know I'm free' crowd growls over this bone. What could possibly come next? Hookers and wrestling? Casinos with stomach pumps? Opting in while tapping out?
Think I'll hit the showers before they cut the power.

Who took my marbles, dammit?:
Solastalgia
That explains my adult life...

Yeah, once I was shy. That was before illness(es) had chemical correctives so sanctioned, leaving the country became the crazy thing to do.....

It's summer here

Well here we see the intrepid travelers in their native element. Locutionary evidence of their location include the straits ferry, ponga trees, fennel, wine and abundant sunshine.
And hills, calf crunching, leisure defying, topographically messy hills.
Riotous vegetation. Possums, fer sakes.

Tilting Leeward

Lenny Bruce: “We all live in a happy-ending culture, a what-should-be culture. . . . We are all taught that fantasy. But if we were taught ‘This is what is,’ I think we’d all be less screwed up.”

And more able to change, adapt, let go?!?

Getting a little foggy in there? Wise old Kurt Cobb calls this the Cult of Continuity. 'I've got mine'

Three trillion and change on wars and this is can't make the newspapers? And don't say it ain't interesting, true to life, thriller material.
There are a lot of smart people connecting the dots, despite the blather that passes for entertainment coming out of the squawk box. And the media? Please....

There Will Be Blood.
As long as as it's not spelled out in my bills

A fellow Peak Oil kook over at Survival Acres puts living on this literal and figurative island it this way:
I personally believe that Americans are in very serious trouble regarding several factors, such as:

a) situational awareness — they have no idea what is going on around them and have no interest in it either;

b) comprehension limitations — they are so brainwashed that anything out of the ordinary is completely lost to them;

c) cognitive dissonance — they are quite unable to perceive anything outside of their comfort zone and will continue to vehemently deny their own suffering as long as possible;

d) they actually prefer their own bias, ignorance and laziness, it’s preferable to them because it does not require of them any personal responsibility or accountability

And I leave once more with words that speak more than well enough for me.

What do you think?

"If you must play, decide on three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time" --Chinese proverb

the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry!

or MAF, has hired me to fix the records system within their Policy Department. Whooda thunk they'd Lettuce? Now Beth's in Social Development and I'm in 'primary industries'.

MAF'S Mission is:

Enhancing New Zealand's Natural Advantage.

Through our purpose:

Leading the protection and sustainable development of our biological resources for all New Zealanders.

The Three Outcomes we are working to achieve are:

Economy:	Sustainable economic growth and prosperity for New Zealanders
People:	Healthy New Zealanders and a vibrant rural community
Environment:	Maintained and Enhanced economic, social and cultural benefits for New Zealanders from the natural environment

Most importantly, this gives a second wind to the income of our 'beach-head' here in Aotearoa. Simultaneously my head will vacate the cozy confines of my brain, where it's been stuck far too long.
It's the best thing to happen since a Library Card! At least.
The last few weeks, the term 'draw-down' reached critical nature. Corresponding to an upswing in summer happenings, t he full-court press of the work search tested the best of me. Once again, I'd like to thank Beth for her loving kindness and initiative.
But it's over. Now I get to dig around in the files and documents of the agriculturally richest nation in the world!

Want a better view?

Victoria Falls
At least wear a bungee cord....

Please pass the Salt.
It's an Institute, fer sakes.

American Dreaming

Montel Williams

More muckraking, troop defendin', sick making, part-time warrin' blues.

O the tangled web gets thinner by the day....

Nothing at all

to Listen to

Good Lord. If only there were more ways to entertain...

While waiting on a train...

Many wonderful photographs of the not so distant past. And wooden bicyles where carbon has carved a future in the present

Iraq has a better handle on what democracy means to voters than.....the American Press?

Homer Dixon once more, this time from the cool clear skies of Canada

From the Not Alone category, this time on the Loux:
"The people in my country, I am afraid to say, have somehow gotten the impression that we deserve the finest things in life, no matter from where, or from whom, we get them. The last president to tell the American people to stop acting like spoiled brats and to take some responsibility for our lives was replaced by an actor. Point taken. All subsequent politicians from then on understood that the American people wish for entertainment, not reality."

Our allies in Britain don't seem to know any better. Except a hardy few, the Lush-es. At least in the absence of Burts Bees (which had suddenly multiplied virally in the last year) we can go to Lush here in Wellington!

San Francisco is on notice
I find that more and more are able to talk about such matters.
RU?

World without men? A double-edged sword, and fascinating to boot.

New Zealand not quite removed from the ravages of cancer. You just can't get away from these wacky enviros, Even in Eden

At least there is, via the magic of web: Eva Cassidy

Dateline, summer?

Yep, I have to say it finally feels like summer here. Wellington is seeing some consistent sunny days--and I'm told this season "is a good one". After several not so good.
Among other things, this is really teasing me to ride a bike. To do that, I have to pay someone for it in a 'transaction'. I've been rationalizing not getting one as I continue to look for work. But these sunny days! There are a lot of cyclists here in Wellington, and some good looking rides. We'll see.
That said, job options are looking up, way up. The number of raw ads has nearly doubled since the holidays--and the actual content, the quality of those jobs is fantastic. Luckily, I have a very patient and smart wife (I believe you've met Beth) who's sticking out my search. I am fortunate as well to have a work permit that enables me to choose my employer. Woe to Beth; she can only work for her current employer, MSD. So I must secure as a-Q-uality a contract as I can--within a reasonable timeframe. As of today, I am aiming higher; toward positions in Archives New Zealand or the National (libraries). Or government agencies similar to the one for whom Beth works that pay well and reward those who may get them.
We'll see.
That said, an odd normality has become the days here in En-Zed. That piece of the (forward) puzzle, good work, would have it all make sense.
Tell then, I am mad, I tells ya.

EPI Rankings (2008)!!

What? Excited over this stuff?!? Just call me Geo-man. No big surprises here. I just find it fascinating that this treasure can be got. This, to my mind, is about as accurate a measurement of quality of life as you can get from a bunch of numbers. It's damn good, too.
You may find that those countries near the top have an intact social lifestyle that values (profits from) their environment, and historically has taken steps to protect it. Their social capital reflects well. Other nations may have valuable resources (mineral, timber, precious metals) but have recently or otherwise sold the future for a better (?) present. History is the best judge; yet the EPI index is a great gauge, for the direction many nations will go.
For those who'd prefer otherwords:
"The 2008 Environmental Peformance Index (EPI) ranks 149 countries on 25 indicators tracked across six established policy categories: Environmental Health, Air Pollution, Water Resources, Biodiversity and Habitat, Productive Natural Resources, and Climate Change. The EPI identifies broadly-accepted targets for environmental performance and measures how close each country comes to these goals. As a quantitative gauge of pollution control and natural resource management results, the Index provides a powerful tool for improving policymaking and shifting environmental decisionmaking onto firmer analytic foundations."

Kiwi money

Been meaning to write about these beauties for awhile, but I guess it's just easier to spend them. PLAY MONEY!

No, they're painfully real(they have that real-O-clear seal). And beautiful, I think.

There's the queen of England, and Katherine Mansfield, who's childhood home is just down the hill from ours. And Edmund Hillary, whom they canonized before he'd passed.
Vultures!
And penguins and some type of duck.

On the dollar coin is the beloved kiwi. There's a two dollar coin (no bill) as well.

They start at ten (cents-it looks like an American penny), twenty, fifty. Here they round up or down to the nearest denomination of ten cents.

At least this way I hold on to them for a bit longer....

Ents-r-us

Trees are some of my best friends. I'd sure like to keep 'em around for awhile. And it's good to know there are others that would speak for the trees.

Yes, This IS Still our Travel Blog!

To all of you who are wondering, this is also Jesse's personal blog for speaking his mind about what's going on in the world. You can also still find updates on Jesse and Beth's zany adventures right here. So read some articles while you're at it, and let us know what you think.
Your friends,
B&J

Stuff

Make the new You nothing like the voices say

G'head. You'll find your happier for it.

Who Killed the Electric Car?

the gods have spoken.
Put down your pezzie phones.

" a stunning announcement" (quote unquote)

"There is no doubt demand for oil is outpacing supply at a rapid pace, and has been for some time now," Mr Wagoner said. "As a business necessity and an obligation to society we need to develop alternate sources of propulsion.

"So, are electrically driven vehicles the answer for the mid- and long-term? Yes, for sure."


Now can we all get on the bus???

Good with the Bad

(air) Miles and miles and miles

or nautical?.?.?...

and more....

He saw

into Vlad's soul

or maybe simply his heart

Harold Bloom:

“What we are seeing is…the fall of America”

A Job in New Zealand

Work here is not like what I'm used to.
What I'm used to is I'm sure half my own mental constructs, defined as the manifestations of a severely hyperactive and paranoid work ethic, and half realtime work demands, but they generally added up to a 9-10 hour workday composed of furiously juggling projects and deadlines while trying to keep up with a constant influx of emails and daily meetings, countered by extra-long sneakaway lunches and therapy-type shopping excursions. All of this was somewhat lightened when I was presented with better management, but unfortunately, this only came for me in my career in the few short months before I left on this journey.

So New Zealand work is different. And I'm told it's not just my job that is different, but the style of work in this country, as a whole. "Take it easy" is the mantra, coffee breaks are the rule. So many points to outline; let me count the ways:

1. Tea time, twice a day, which everyone takes. This is really the equivalent of the 2 15-minute breaks that we all know we're supposed to have every day, but that I know I never took in my corporate workday. I always thought standing around chatting makes you look like a slacker. It's so much more legit to surf the internet all day, flipping back to MS Word every time someone comes into your cube.
   
2. Besides the implied teas, the boss holds a weekly tea where we all sit around in the canteen and chat about ourselves. Personal stuff is exchanged, announced to the whole group, like, "how's the home sale going?" or "your arse was wiped in that rugby game at lunchtime." I intend to push these questions to get as much information as I can out of my co-workers.
   
3. ok, and beyond organized tea time, the computer freezes up every 15 minutes or so and forces a "Workpace break" of about 15 seconds. After about 3 of these, the computer goes even further and offers about 2 minutes of pictures and instructions on stretches and exercises you can do at your desk, followed by 3 more minutes of mandatory break time, I guess to catch a quick nap.
   
4. Getting used to not using z's in my words, such as organise and utilise.
   
5. In the kitchen: a stock of plates, bowls, and real silverware, and a dishwasher. And everyone uses them. Free trade coffee and tea, and filtered water (granted, available at most workplaces, but built into the kitchen faucets here).
   
6. Ties and collared shirts for the men, the most cleavage possible to show for the women. It's really nice not having to worry about my bra showing because of my neckline or a shirt that's a little too sheer for once, because just about everyone is worse.
   
7. Working with people named Rowena, Shone, Philippa, and Hamish.
8. I understand there are the occasional cook-offs between the different groups on my office floor. Pot lucks in the states required the admin ordering something from catering, because everyone else brought chips and salsa, or grocery store baked goods. But people are proud of cooking in these parts.
9. Just like what I'm used to, things don't often get done when you ask for help. Unlike the states, everyone is so polite here that a common response is to just shrug and laugh about it, rather than go for the gutteral. I think there could be more going for the gutteral.
   
10. I've seen people coming back from lunch barefoot, and staying that way for the remainder of the workday. Remember, I work for the government.

So, life is pretty good. Or at least pretty interesting.

Off the Hook

Yep, still bouncing off the walls of my cell.
Call Me

Most people like movies right? This is very very important(and it happens to be GREAATTT!:
the Story of Stuff