Impact

Recently confirmed: in the aftermath of a violent event like a random shooting, those immediately effected are traumatized. People on the periphery go through something different. Some are rubberneckers, of course. But a lot are just trying to get through their day and avoid the wreckage. 

For my part, I was on a RIPTA bus, coming back from a light shopping trip to Rumford. The bus driver stopped when we were in sight of downtown Pawtucket. Detour, end of the line. He didn't tell us how to get to our destinations. We were just on our own. The Pawtucket/Central Falls commuter rail station wasn't far off, but any halfway direct route was blocked off by police. I followed a mother and adult daughter who lived near the station and thus were going in the same general direction. They kindly gave me directions when our paths diverged.

When I was on the bus for home, a guy got on a few stops after me. He was already talking about the shooting. I didn't learn anything from listening to him except that the rumor mill was still in good working order.

Only after getting home did I look up any media reports on what happened. It was bad. Every time I read about it, it seems to get worse. Condolences to everyone who was close enough to it to be considered a survivor. Peace to those who didn't make it.

Up and out

The bottom line is that space is a frustrating, ungiving environment, and you are trapped in it. If you're trapped long enough, your frustration metastasizes to anger. Anger wants an outlet and a victim. An astronaut has three from which to choose: a crewmate, Mission Control, and himself. Astronauts try not to vent at each other because it makes a bad situation worse. There's no front door to slam or driveway to speed out of. You're soaking in it. "Also," says Jim Lovell, who spent two weeks on a loveseat with Frank Borman during Gemini VII, "you're in a risky business and you depend on the other guy to stay alive. So you don't antagonize the other guy."

from Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void, by Mary Roach

Space travel and the preparations people go through in order to get into space are always interesting. In a way, the Gemini program was the last great moment of midcentury American culture. And certainly there are still people willing to take the risks needed for space travel.

One wonders, though, how far this thing can be taken. As a species we evolved for the conditions prevalent on Earth. Some have taken a step or two off the planet. But colonization is a whole other basket of fish. Does anyone really want to live in the void? In theory, there are plans to settle Mars and then move on from there. This would require long periods, maybe lifetimes, of voyagers denying their human side. In practice we're not really exploring space as much as we're throwing our toys into it.

Good vibes

It's been about eight and a half years since I put some Milt Jackson on this blog. Looking at that post now I see a notice on the square where the video should be telling me that it's unavailable. On the internet, as in life, pleasures are often ephemeral.

Anyway, this is the Modern Jazz Quartet, and they seem to like what they do.

Philosophical problem

On Taxi, when the Sunshine Cab Co. is temporarily shut down, the drivers reunite a few months later to talk about what they've been doing in the interim. Louie has essentially been stoking a boiler room, selling stock over the phone. He quickly loses the job, because regardless of how much money he pulls in, he's still Louie De Palma. But one of his pitches keeps coming back to me.

Tom, listen to the words that are going to send you to an early retirement: Genetic research. You know, cloning and stuff like that. Listen, today they're doing it with rats. Tomorrow, they'll be cranking out Cheryl Tiegs by the dozens.

Ah, I know what you're going to say. I know, you got a philosophical problem because there'sa possibility that something maybe could go wrong. I mean, some mutant virus could wipe out half the world. If you're in the half that's still around do you want to be rich or not?

And what makes me think of this is, of course, artificial intelligence. There is, in practical terms, no difference between AI doomerism and AI boosterism. The theorists with their dark theories tell you that it's going to make us all obsolete and end humanity as we know it. The salesmen and advocates say exactly the same thing, and then they pass the hat. It's the same spiel Louie was doing, only without the charm.

Realizations

A few interesting observations here:

As the Center for Working Class Politics found, her “democratic threat” message was resoundingly unpopular. Especially with working-class voters. That’s no doubt because the #Resistance philosophy behind it dripped with condescension. It reminded everyone that liberals think Trump voters are a bunch of irredeemable fascists.

Ganz might argue that Harris’s failure was in pushing her democracy-mongering without an attendant economic agenda. In this way he could try to rescue the utility of his thesis. This won’t do. The social challenge is much more basic: if you think the person you are trying to win over is an Untouchable, they will smell your hatred from a mile away. Even if you insist that you just want to give them healthcare.

"Fascism" is a handy epithet. It evokes the dangers of a relatively recent past without being quite as blatant about it as "Nazi." Leftists calling out things as fascist are the photo negative equivalent of rightists saying that everything they don't like is communism. And as has become increasingly clear, it's just about as useful in the long run.

Night critters

It's an interesting hypothesis. From the Triassic through the Cretaceous, mammals were somewhat marginal. A lot of burrowers, and they were by-and-large nocturnal. Dinosaurs might have seen them as nocturnal pests. Since dinosaurs―or at least non-avian dinosaurs―some mammals have adopted diurnal lifestyles. Some, but not most. 

Again, it's a hypothesis, not a confirmed fact. But it highlights some interesting facts about us. One is that humans are much more visually oriented than other mammals. We have more acute vision than most mammals and can see in three colors. (If we had UV vision we might find it more trouble than it was worth.)

Then there's our ambivalent attitude toward the night. We don't, most of us, operate primarily at night. Some are afraid of it. But night also appears to us as a time of possibility, not bound by humdrum rules. That could be the old part of us calling out.

Cellar Septet

For all his Midwestern charm, Ray Bradbury could be disturbing even when he wasn't working in Weird Tales mode. One example is "The Watchful Poker Chip of H. Matisse." It's a tale of exploitation, addictive fame, self-mutilation, and the loss of self. I'm not the only one who remembers it, and the text can be seen here. (While he wasn't the loudest Cold Warrior, Bradbury may have been surprised to see his work memorialized on an international computer network by Russians who leave Cyrillic comments.)

It might be overly dramatic to say that we are all George Garvey now. Still, it's true that the kind of image consciousness that was once limited to entertainers and aristocrats has spread to the general population. And many have found that they have no natural defenses against it.