Cicadas and Crickets

Cicada

Just a short note to Caroline and me that during the late day on the last walk around the block, we stepped out and heard the first cicadas of the year. Half a block from there, we heard crickets for the first time in half a year. While the mercury rising over 100 degrees is a great signifier that summer has arrived in the desert, it is the sound of these insects that signals that the year’s hottest days are on their way. Soon, we’ll see billowing clouds on the horizon, meaning the monsoons are around the corner. There’s a particular kind of romantic notion as the blistering heat of the day and metallic orchestra of insects blend with the approaching winds and the distant roar of rolling thunder that is usually carrying the scent of wet earth and creosote our way. This is not the calm of winter, the golden palette of fall, or the vibrant greenery of spring, nor is it the calm recreational days of summer joining friends at the pool or BBQ. The monsoon is the violence of dust storms; it is the chance for deadly flash floods to sweep the inattentive away, electricity outages can arrive at the most inopportune times, and howling winds that fell trees and send palm fronds jettisoning across streets. Our summer deluges are aggressive reminders that we live in an inhospitable environment where those who are hardy enough will step out into the maelstrom to celebrate the return of the ferocity called monsoon.

The excitement returns with those clicking tymbals of the buzzing cicadas, putting smiles on our faces. Soon, the first raindrops of the summer storms will arrive, and we’ll be standing outside to meet them with our faces. With the temperature up near 110, the humidity will rise quickly to nearly 100%, and if we are lucky, the wind whipping through the falling water will dramatically cool the air until the rain passes and steam starts to rise off the searing hot streets. Those who claim to hate Arizona’s brutal summers have never learned what makes them so special. Then in just about 90 days, summer will be over once again, and those who survived it can count themselves among the fortunate that they were still alive for yet another opportunity to experience the extraordinary.

90+

Nietzsche

Image credit: quickmeme.com

We passed our 90th day in self-isolation with no end in sight. A month ago, the resolve of many a U.S. Governor waned under the pressure that orders to stay at home were likely unconstitutional and that people were having too difficult a time being cooped up, so the dogs of viral warfare were unleashed. Exactly one month ago, I wrote here on my blog that after 60 days, Arizona had 12,674 cases of people infected with COVID-19, and now, 30 days later, we have reached 34,600 cases, an increase of 21,986 people. Deaths from the virus have nearly doubled in this intervening month, having climbed from 624 to 1,189.

This year, we’ve learned about the “Karens.” My mother was named Karen and was a Karen before she died. She wasn’t always a Karen, but with a couple of years left in Obama’s presidency and her feasting on conspiracy and propaganda, she moved from being the noun Karen to the adjective Karen. When Trump was elected, she started to weaponize this trait, and if she were alive today, I’m certain my toxic mother, who was not a Karen in the 1970s through the 1990s, would be a coughing, bludgeoning tool of Kareness I would want to sacrifice on the pyre of needed change. COVID-Karen’s have become a thing as white, privileged women have taken to flaunting their indignation that others are even wearing masks. This type of Karen is pissed that anyone wants to control their right to be in public and go about their life regardless of some fakey “plandemic” that has been orchestrated to control the sheeple on the Global Elite’s behalf.

For nearly three weeks since the death of George Floyd, the police have been using rubber bullets to de-escalate the tension that is a response to their brutality. They are using tear gas and flashbangs for crowd control. They set up a phalanx of stormtroopers dressed for battle to keep the peace. Yet these actions appear to be nothing more than the demand for submission.

To be an American this year requires you to give up your will to survive and accept the need to live or maybe die with COVID-19. You must be considerate and make room for a generation of heartless citizens who only see their own needs and their will to exercise the immediacy of rights to satisfy their wants. And you must submit to the authority of the state with its right to decide on your life and death if you become a nuisance. To think, this is all in an effort to bring us around to normal.

What is normal? Our normal is being more concerned about our stuff than our lives. How many times have I heard someone explaining their gun ownership with the exclamation that if someone were to break into their home, they’d kill that person trying to steal their stuff? Most burglaries occur when the homeowner is NOT there. How many times a year do we hear about a homeowner killing someone while committing the crime of breaking and entering? During our mass shootings, there are always those people who brag that had they been there, “The shooter would have been wasted after I emptied my 9mm in his dumb ass.” For the most part, I hear those who are going to protect their stuff, and that is what’s at the heart of gun ownership as far as I’m concerned. We are more tightly connected to our things than we are to our own lives. I think this might be a generational concern as our recent demonstrations are putting on display that there is now a large part of America that cares more about life than the shit they amassed. While those on the sidelines are more concerned about looted and destroyed stuff than the lives that are at stake.

Maybe these 90+ days that reasonable people are taking seriously are offering them the opportunity to be reflective and take inventory of what’s really important. To the generation that was born towards the end of World War II, debt, homes, boats, cars, guns, TVs, and more stuff represented the pinnacle of having attained the American dream. For a new generation burdened with crippling debt, who can’t afford homeownership, don’t want a car that will contribute to harming the environment, don’t watch TV, and know that their possession of a gun will be the license for the police to shoot them, we are witnessing the clash of cultures where “Old” America is giving way to “New” America. Except, “Old-thinking” America hates blacks, gays, trans people, immigrants, environmental protection, electric cars, debt forgiveness, and health care for those not sacrificing for it, and they are not alone as they’ve already poisoned enough of their children that we have a young intolerant generation of people who think just like the old-fashioned idiots afraid of change.

Is it that simple to only be a generational gap, or is there something larger at work? I’m sensing that the shift is one where the driving force behind American life had been in the exercise of economic liberties and that the movement of the civil liberties activities during the 60s now needs a full embrace. The people of that generation planted the seed, but their parents’ influence on what it meant to be an American was so ingrained that soon after the Civil Rights Bill was signed, the war had been won, and things normalized. Fifty years later, life is now too expensive to participate in for many young people who cannot afford health insurance, renting an apartment on their own, vacation, transportation, and even new clothes. Look at the generation on the street today; they often shop at Dollar Stores and the Salvation Army, use bicycles, go on staycations, and turn to alternative health, as traditional healthcare can only saddle them with more debt. So what does a disenfranchised American have to look forward to in this age they can’t afford to participate in? At a minimum, they need their civil liberties, and they need them now. The idea that there’s a price to pay if you are gay, trans, black, Hispanic, hipster, or counter-culturalist is a tragedy in a country that brags so loudly about being the melting pot when, for many, that’s a farce.

I posit that the powers-that-be are in some small way, or maybe they are fully aware of this cultural shift and recognize that by shutting down our economy, they nearly showed their empty hand that the economic game can be put on pause while the civil responsibility to one another was placed front and center. Were the 60 days of Pandora’s Box being open enough to wake the realization that money is simply something noted as a ledger entry and that during a global health crisis things could change in an instant?

The genie is being shoved back into its bottle, and it is only with the continued efforts of demonstrators that the much-needed social change can happen. Lucky for those of us desiring these changes that, the police are using more brutality to try to win the hearts and minds of constituents who want to see a return to their ideas of racist order. Lucky for us that, governors are opening their states to more death, sickness, and pain, as suffering is the harbinger of more change. Lucky us that the government, big media, and extremist pundits are still spewing disinformation as it will help evolve decentralized citizen-based initiatives that will either marginalize or totally disenfranchise the hate machine. Unlucky us that this will disrupt our comfort but that’s the price required to be paid when change couldn’t be embraced by a controlling culture lost in their own blind greed.

I expect that in another 30 days, I’ll be updating my blog with news about our self-isolation, but other than that, I have no idea what direction our rudderless country is currently going.

Outside

Cactus flower in the early morning Phoenix, Arizona

Most of our time is spent inside as the outside is growing progressively hotter. Then, all of sudden, just as we accommodate ourselves to the encroaching desert heat, it cools off. From October through mid-May, we can take multiple walks over the course of the day. For me, this amounts to between 5 and 7 one-mile-long strolls around the neighborhood where I find little treasures such as a cactus that’s been in bloom for weeks like this one above. By January, my first and last walks are in the dark, and sometimes even two of my miles in the evening are during the night. Here in June, it becomes increasingly more difficult to avoid the sun and so a shift in routine is required.

Saguaro Cactus in Phoenix, Arizona

We wake between 4:45 and 5:00 in the morning and try to get out on a 3-mile walk as soon as possible so we can beat the sun before it peaks over the horizon. These rare days when the morning temp is in the low 70s have been great, but when it’s over 80 or worse, 90 with the sun glaring down on us, our walks become a struggle. Even though it might be tough, we still try to hoof out a few miles, knowing that between 8:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m., it’s near impossible to endure the heat and blistering sun of the mid-day.

Even though it might be seriously uncomfortable, I still find myself taking time to stare at a cactus, watch the bees pollinating its blossoms, or a woodpecker perched high above on one of its arms, contemplating its next move. I don’t know that I ever considered the benefit of the saguaro’s arms in casting shadows or how the ribs of this cactus also create shade that probably helps cool this giant of the desert. Even its needles make sense when, on a windy afternoon, I listen to the thrush of air whipping around the saguaro, and the hissing sound from thousands of needles makes me wonder if they contribute to turbulence over the surface of the cactus and thus help keep it cooler?

Come to think about the gnarled and deep bark on the mesquite trees, how much shade and surface evaporation area does it allow so this nearly black tree doesn’t boil in the noon-day sun? Along the path of our walks, we pass many ants and lizards, but it is with curiosity we look at the ants moving slow as molasses when the temperature is barely 70 degrees while at 100, they move with purpose and bolt over the frying pan of earth. While there was still a chill in the air, the birds would sing all day; now, as we are effectively already in summer, the birds take refuge, and their song remains quiet while shadows are at their smallest.

Sunset in Phoenix, Arizona

Still, we must go outside as there’s too much to miss, such as a frequency of spectacular sunsets that we’ve not seen anywhere else, though the Oregon Coast, when conditions are right, can astonish the most jaded sunset watcher. Arizona is approaching monsoon season, and while the last years feel like they’ve been dry, the buildup of clouds can lay a foundation for light shows that force many a person from their car to try and grab a shot to send to skeptical friends and family who live in sunset deprived locations. Then again, maybe the sunsets are beautiful everywhere but people forget that they really do need to get outside.

Granola

Granola

Ten ingredients and a lot of time are needed for my homemade granola. First up, why go through this much work to make my own breakfast cereal?

I have diabetes, but I still love a nice crunchy cereal from time to time but it’s near impossible to find healthy cereals, including the incredibly boring Keto-friendly taste-of-cardboard stuff. I said this takes a lot of work, it also requires a significant amount of time, 72 hours to be exact.

The reason for the long process is that I soak a number of the ingredients for 24 hours before I put the mixture into our dehydrator for 2 days until it’s finished.

Here’s the recipe:

  • 10 ounces raw pumpkin seeds
  • 10 ounces raw sunflower seeds
  • 20 ounces whole oat groats
  • 16 ounces raw almonds
  • 12 ounces raw walnuts
  • 13.5 ounces rolled oats
  • 5.5 ounces whole flax seed
  • 4.5 ounces hemp hearts
  • 1 cup coconut oil
  • 2/3 cup raw honey (I use Eucalyptus honey from HoneyPacifica)
  • 2-3 tbsp vanilla extract (I make my own using vodka and vanilla beans that I age for as long as I can)

Using 4 mason jars (quart size) I soak the pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, groats, almonds, and walnuts for 24 hours. The nuts and seeds have to be covered with water at all times and I rinse them and refill with fresh water from time to time.

After 24 hours I start placing small batches of the nuts and seeds into a blender and grind them to a rough mixture that I place in a large bowl, and continue until the pumpkin, sunflower, walnuts, and almonds are ground. I do not grind the oat groats as they are already of a good size.

I add 1 cup flax seed, 1 cup hemp hearts, and 3 cups rolled oats (13.5 oz) along with the coconut oil, honey, and vanilla. After mixing thoroughly the wet, sprouted granola should look something like the photo above.

I divide the mixture onto 4 dehydrator trays that have the Teflon sheets on them, set the drying temperature to about 130 degrees, and allow it to dry for 48 hours. After about 12 hours I find I can slip the Teflon sheets out from under the granola which allows it to dry more evenly.

This concoction makes about 96 ounces or 6 pounds of granola at a price of $45 per batch. This equates to .47 cents per ounce while the cheapest big brand granola costs about .14 cents per ounce and specialty brands range from .30 cents to $1.00 per ounce. I know this sounds expensive but I’ll have a large bowl with 4.5 ounces of granola in it which costs us $2.12 per meal, which isn’t too bad compared to a bacon and egg burrito at Filibertos which costs $7.20

The nutritional value of this homemade granola is a magnitude different than commercially sourced cereals.

My recipe looks like this per 4.5oz serving:

  • 52g carbohydrates
  • 24g protein
  • 13g fiber (more than 50% of daily requirement)
  • 9g sugar
  • 540 calories

In addition, the nutritional values per serving:

  • 80% of Vitamin B-1
  • 63% of Vitamin E
  • 48% of Vitamin B-2
  • 51% of Vitamin B-6
  • 40% of Iron
  • 140% of Omega 3
  • 50% of Omega 6
  • 122% of Magnesium
  • 138% of Phosphorus
  • 184% Copper
  • 60% Zinc
  • 171% of Manganese

I’m well aware I could cut out a lot of the coconut oil and eliminate the honey but then I have a bowl of nuts and seeds covered in soy milk and let’s get real, there’s got to be some yum-factor to our meals and as long as I can maintain good blood glucose levels, I’m good.

Words With More Words

Keyboard

At the end of our gorging on cultural gruel, we are left with a half-wit festering vocabulary that regurgitates the dander of meaningless jingles and conversations we never participated in but merely passively observed. To that end, we are fattened pigs wallowing in the fecal matter of creators who feast on the caviar of real thought and who are well exercised in the fitness of intellectual rigor.

Communication in the Renaissance relied heavily on imagery and symbolism to guide humanity into the Enlightenment, today this is mirrored in our use of emojis and memes and has me wondering where will our young thinkers bring our species?

Movies, video games, and viral videos drive the new engine of simulacra and simulation. As we invent reality outside of reality, how are the virtual simulacra going to lend influence to the simulation and allow for a simulation that can no longer be based on real-world processes?

Religion has lost its place at the center of control as it became a symbolic representation of archaic traditions instead of being hard rules that dictated how people lived.

The digital age catapults semiotics beyond borders into a new iconography of global motifs that contextualize time and location into a flattened moment reflecting a zeitgeist that may not exist tomorrow.

Modern language is becoming generative as it’s moving further away from traditions and orthodox rules. Words intermingle with images to find fluid plasticity that evolves as global culture co-ops the viral and technology introduces communication with machines. How is the structure altered when that landscape is more often digital and how long before machines create a new kind of shorthand after learning the patterns where particular words can be paired with images and emojis?

Linguistic structures in the future will create tonal spaces similar to those found in music. The Circle of Fifths can be employed digitally in the creation of electronic generative music with pleasant sounds emerging from relative randomness. The math behind understanding the distance between keys is used in creating harmonies and melodies, a similar linguistically aware application might be able to harness a new spatial model where words from various languages are plucked out a vast memory to deliver a new language; the human universal language.

What components of language are dependent and fixed upon other elements and relationships as opposed to ephemeral fragments making new connections that create hitherto unknown patterns and consequently new insight into ourselves? Examples can be found in Hip-hop where stochastic relationships find poetic deep meaning.

What’s the process when we enter a technology that starts the altering of how we talk and communicate? Our species begins architecting the words for subjects and technologies that are evolving allowing the arch we require to bring to fruition our anticipated future. It is as though we are forced by an instinctual process to develop language to take us into tomorrow.

How do we evolve linguistically when repetition of tropes and idioms in popular media repeat ad infinitum thus limiting the evolving breadth of capacity to absorb the foreign? Are these the people who intellectually are left behind?

Our current young generation is the first to have learned more words from smart machines than other humans.

We consume the product of the digital realm to enhance the simulation of the other, of the alien. By feasting on these cultural fragments we are supporting an unknown objective to model ourselves in the composite image of the idealized person we ourselves would like to meet.

Does the world exist aside from my attributing phenomenon and meaning to me within it? Am I the product of a self that finds wandering in nature, exploring words, and cultivating a personality that moves from the coffeeshop to various places that allow John to emerge while collecting bits and pieces of various cultural elements I hold relevant?

If I were to want to fit in with social convention in order to be a more integrated person would I need to layer within myself the constructs of banality and pop culture to better define my compatibility to be boring?

Marginalizing The Intellect

Marginalized Photo credit: Patient Care Technician

Photo credit: Patient Care Technician

Lacan, Badiou, Žižek, Foucault, and Deleuze might have all been called charlatans by Noam Chomsky, but what he missed is that these are our philosophers and thinkers in the age of larger-than-life media buffoons. To get paid and find the ability to ask questions in the realm of knowledge, they had to become glamorous elites themselves so the wealthy people they could rub shoulders with would support their coded endeavors. Within this cadre of privileged artists, musicians, poets, writers, and thinkers, celebrity politicians and business magnates could demonstrate their embrace by surrounding themselves with rarified examples of personas too complex for the average person. This buffering of their defenses by surrounding themselves with obscurantists added layers to their unapproachability by convincing those on the outside that they do not have the intellectual capacity to comprehend such complexities. Alas, this was all part of a charade to disenfranchise the masses.

To make the complex simple, we listen to Beethoven or join Ishmael on the deck of the Pequod as he battles tyranny and danger in the quest to capture the prize. Look at Mona Lisa and wonder what is the intrigue of the face of an unknown woman that nonetheless pulls us in. How did da Vinci channel the complexity of finding light and character to create a piece of art that has enchanted us for over 500 years now? Beethoven was in love with the ancient pre-language state of hominids, where the song was our means of transmitting information. Melville was in love with the sea, especially the fragile relationship of man with the constant threat of the abyss, the monster, and the monster of the abyss that lies within our souls. Maybe what the Mona Lisa belies in its simplicity is that she is secretly in love with Leonardo, but he didn’t know it while he painted.

Barriers that isolate and segregate need constant reworking and refinement. Their bulwarks are society’s defensive sculpture, but they are not impenetrable: they can be chipped away at and reshaped. Knowledge is the chisel that does that work, but for too long, it has been kept in rarified institutions and made expensive to maintain cultural and racist order. When we talk in terms of fear of what artificial intelligence can bring, we do so in order to alienate a class of people from its benefit. Swayed to hold deeply negative opinions they will not be able to take advantage of A.I. when it becomes more and more apparent in our daily lives. While formal education is everywhere, there is still a large body of the population that holds a negative view of it, believing that it will remove them from the real and the important.

The pedestal of who gets to stand on the shoulders of great minds is intentionally kept small for the purpose of allocating privilege and allowing a small cadre of elites to better demonstrate their greatness while standing with and supporting genius. This is archaic and broken and excludes the common persons who simultaneously take pride in distancing themselves from those they can’t identify with due to groupthink that says that kind of power is corrupt.

We need creators, artists, and thinkers to do some heavy lifting during times of cultural convulsions, and this is the beginning of one of those eras. Being smart is not a tarnish on legitimacy, nor is it a guarantee of participation, but ignorance and the inability of people to adequately participate with the foundations of building a healthy society is a recipe for more chaos. Out of the tumult of the late ’50s through the ’60s, philosophy, education, civil society, human rights, and cultural expression all went through a profound upheaval, and here we are once again at the beginning of one of those moments. Embrace education and self-expression, everyone; clean out the cobwebs that were scattered in your minds from the past 50 years of breeding stupid consumers, and try to understand how your minds and bodies are both victims of the injustice brought by the war on individuality.