Live Foods

I just watched an incredibly well-informed video. It's only ten minutes long, and it says things I've been trying to say, but have yet to have said so well.


Click this link to open the page that contains the video that I want you to watch.


Watch that video, and know what you've heard is true, well informed, and just a short overview of a tremendous volume of covered-up knowledge that the mass-media can't cover, because if they try to, they'll receive a huge lash-back from huge destructive power-hungry, money-hungry evil corporations, such as Monsanto.

Board Games & Love

The fun thing about board games is not so much the games themselves, but how much it reveals about the people you're playing with. Who is most generous? Who is most competitive? Who is willing to take chances? Who is a sore loser? Etc, etc.

While online games allow you to interact with others, it's very different to see their faces as they contemplate their moves then to see some text they happen to decide to write. Board games allow for much more real conversation. Once everybody is familiar with a game, then the players are almost using the board game just as a way to allow them all to be comfortable and have an excuse to not be too involved in the conversation. This is also a great way to correspond with people you usually wouldn't have any other reason to talk to. It's like drinking for more intelligent people (although many people do both at the same time.) But for obvious reasons, drinking has draw backs, whereas board games only have benefits.

I've spent a lot of time thinking (in the past few years) about how the brain operates and what connections we make between activities, people, emotions, memories... For every activity you do throughout your day, there is a thought process. For every emotion you feel, there is a thought process. For every person you encounter, there are multitudes of thought processes that stem from their influence . And for each of these thought processes, a part of the brain is further developed.

There are ways in which this phenomena is obvious. For example, if you work as a programmer, you're likely to be more logical than most people; most systematic. You're likely to make references to, "if that were a string of code, it would ruin the entire program," and other such analogies.

If you're an artist, then you look at everything you see as a potential painting, drawing, 3D-model... You study the way the light falls on an object, and how different textures look in different lighting. You notice if the colors surrounding you work well together.

If you're into sports or martial arts then you pay more attention to body language and what it means. You understand people through their movements more than their words. You notice if someone is off-balanced in the way they move around. You are aware of physical confidence.

If you're a writer, then when you read a book you notice writing style, grammar, and the structure of the plot. Writer's also are more likely to be able to come up with the words they want when they're having a conversation. Writer's consider if a real-life situation they are having would be good in a book, or even, more specifically, in the book they are writing.

But what about the things that are less obvious? I've noticed that people who play video games are not always good at board games. It takes a different sort of logic; a different area of the brain. (Of course this partly depends on the video games. City builders and turn-based strategy video games are in many ways similar to many board games.)

What about the impact of the words we use? In many languages having a debate is referred to as a dance in it's most literal translation. In English however, we refer to it as a battle. To "win" an argument. To "defeat" someone's point. In many languages it is to "sidestep" or to "parry" or even simply to "dance." What effect does that have on our mentality?

I've noticed that I don't get along with people who don't do at least one of the following: play games, create. You know what I mean by play games, but what do I mean by create? Some create music, others create art. Some people create novels, others create websites... All that matters is that it's a craft where it starts with an idea, and then, through skill, is turned into some form of reality.

People without a craft have less of a sense of reality. They have less respect for people's creations. Sometimes they have no respect at all. How can someone respect someone's lifetime's work when they them self have no craft of their own?

People who don't play games seem to have no sense of adventure, spontaneity... Less fun overall. Also they can be very down on gaming and make it out to be some sort of useless thing... Like it's some worthless addiction. That always bugs me, because I've learned a lot from video games and board games alike.

Some games teach you about history, and about politics and economics through the setting and game engine. Some games teach you about yourself; your own tastes, daring and intelligence. Some games teach you about the people you're playing with, through activities, trivia, questions or strategy. All in all, all games teach you something. Although I believe that games are not created equal and that some teach much more than others.

What sort of books a person reads has a huge impact on how they think as well. And the higher their awareness of the input they're receiving, the more can be gained from each book. Some people are not nearly as intelligent as you would expect for someone so well-read because so much of what they've read they didn't have any life experience to relate it to. If you find nothing to latch on to, much of it will just wash over you without ever sinking in.

One of the most profound differences that happens in life is when someone falls in love... Most unfortunately, the most life-changing part of falling in love for the first time, is the heartbreak when it doesn't work out. The great majority of people are not yet mature enough when they first experience love to have any idea what they have, or how valuable it is, and they float on through life like business as usual and end up fucking it up (like I did when I was first in love.)

I find that love-virgins are much, much more naïve and hard to deal with than sex-virgins. Which brings me to a question I've thought about for years. Can someone whose never had sex truly love someone as deeply as someone whose has sex with the person they love? Well, they certainly can love someone they have not had sex with, I experienced that once. But just as much? I guess it's really a silly question. Because love, like everything, is not a liner thing. There are different forms of love.

One reason I wonder about this is because two of my closest friends are both virgins and dating. They've been going out for well over six months, and I'm sure they say “I love you” to each other. I know they kiss and cuddle, but I also know for sure that they are not having sex. They both agree fully that they're not ready, and don't want the risk of pregnancy to even be in the realm of possibility.

But to consummate... To consummate one's love is something so very dramatic; in a good way. I've come to the conclusion that sex is nothing without an emotion behind it. Jealousy, anger, envy, fear... These can create thrilling sex. But only love creates the sort of sex that makes you feel like the world is utterly complete. Can one really feel as deep a connection without? If it is possible, then what does that imply?

Also, I wonder a lot about the differences between first love and second love. The first time you may not even be aware is the first time. You may have dubbed your previous infatuations as love without really knowing that the full effects had never been upon you. But once heartbreak happens (for whatever reason), you know. Life completely loses it's luster for a time, and in that time, you grow into an adult (a transformation much more dramatic than puberty.) So when you fall in love the second time, you know to value what you have. But is it less pure the second time? Is it stronger because you value it more highly? Is it slightly bitter because you feel it's doomed to end just like the last?

I've been in love four times now, at the time that I'm editing this. And for each of those people there was a different set of activities. Each one told me their life story in the full richness of their emotion. For each of them it was like gaining another person's lifetime of experiences. Each doubled the stories I had to tell, and the reasons I had to value love, and relationships. I desire love because I desire learning, companionship, growth, affection... The pain one feels if and when it ends is perhaps the worst torture, and yet it's so very worth it.

With so many factors that affect how we think, and what we want... Wouldn't the odds say that absolutely nobody should be compatible with anybody? Or is it the other way around? With so much to be learned at any given moment, and with so many human experiences being so universal, shouldn't anyone (given the right time and place) be compatible with anybody? Shouldn't any two people be able to love one another... if shown to each other in the right light?

South Lake Tahoe

My friend Wyatt in South Lake Tahoe has internet, and we're at his place.

I forgot how we started talking years and years ago online. But he provided us with a free hotel room last road trip. He doesn't work the Motel 6 anymore though, so we're just gonna crash at his place. Donno if we'll be leaving here tomorrow or the morning after though. Headed to Salt Lake City from here.

I'm working uploading a new batch of pictures to myspace right now. Unfortunately I'm always behind on the pictures; I'm uploading the pictures from a week or two ago at this point. I got a few good ones of Lytenian though, which I'm happy about.

South Lake Tohoe is really beautiful; lots of evergreens, and a little snow at this time of year. Beautiful trails wind through the woods. Giant pine cones litter the ground in a pretty array of browns and auburn colors.

The original theme of this trip was power spots, places of supernatural activity, haunts, ghost towns, etc. But it seems to me as though the theme has become classic rock. I've certainly been learning a lot about it, despite my lack of interest.

As a random side note, I've been working on this digital painting and have finally posted it to my deviant art. It's a complete revamp of "The Mage's Gauntlet"

A Tire & A Muffler

The conclusion from the previous entry.

We decided to turn around and go back the way we came, but when we punched into the GPS to head back to a city we had come from a long way back, it told us to take a slightly different route. We were thankful for this, because it didn't take us back through the mud we had gotten stuck in, but it became clear after a short time that the way it was taking us involved more snow.

We came to a sharp incline covered heavily in snow. My father sped up, clearly hoping to gain enough speed to rush up to the top of the incline. About half way up we stopped dead. Lytenian and I got out and tried to push, but it was no good. He reversed and went back a bit, but began to slide towards the dangerously close cliff side. I directed to steer more into the ditch on the opposite side of the road of the road; images of the car going over the edge running through my head unbidden.

My father angled the wheels towards the mountain, towards the 'harmless' ditch, and away from the disastrous fall to our right. He backed up a bit, and then tried to go forward, but when he tried to go forward it was no use. The front wheels slid, the back wheels remained in place, putting the car's front closer to the edge. I was panicked and began to yell (almost repeatedly) that he had to back up further towards the mountain. Perhaps I didn't believe that would get us up the hill at all, maybe I wanted us to get stuck in the ditch because that would be better than losing my father over the edge of the mountain.

And, if that was my desire, I got what I wanted. He backed up into the ditch. (This, of course, was after much moving around of snow, digging, salting, pushing, rocking the car, etc, on many occasions and on this occasion. We were then out of snow and my shoes were soaked through and my feet were freezing.) The car then was clearly not going forward and my father and Lytenian returned to pushing the snow around with the snow brush. (We didn't have a shovel.)

I wandered down the hill a little ways and turned away. My feet began to feel like someone was stabbing daggers into them. I was cold head to toe, but my toes in particular burned. I shivered, and looked unseeing out at the beautiful landscape. I couldn't recognize my surroundings anymore. I was inside a ball of freezing terror, unsure I'd ever leave.

Please let us get up this hill... Was all I had been thinking before, but I changed my tune then. Instead of trying to will the car to make it up the hill, I began praying for someone to come along and rescue us. I ran over our supplies in my head. We had a little to eat in the cooler and some snacks besides. We had plenty of blankets and gasoline to keep the car warm. We could wait...

Lytenian was terrified that we'd end up waiting. At one point he exclaimed, “We have to make it up this hill! How often do you think people come through here? It could be days!” He was worried he wouldn't make it to work today.

We hadn't seen anybody along that road. Not anybody at all. No houses, no cars, no signs...

I prayed, tears streaming down my face.

And then, after getting my face thoroughly wet, I felt a little silly and wiped my face and walked back to look at the 'progress.' I didn't see anything though. I remember turning around and walking back, but I don't recall seeing anything at all. Perhaps I just stared at my burning and freezing feet. Or maybe I looked at the car with my eyes out of focus. Maybe I looked at the top of the road and hoped someone would come around it. I stood there and continued to pray silently, feeling utterly small in the universe.

And then, miraculously, I heard a sound. My eyes lifted from there unknown focal point and looked expectantly at the top of the hill. A black vehicle comes around the corner. One that is clearly meant for this sort of road. Lytenian and my father stop whatever it was they were doing and then look expectantly up at them. We're quiet, clearly unable to speak as the vehicle approaches.

Two men come out. Virgil and... I can't think of the other man's name at the moment. One of them said, “In a bit of a bind, are you?” Lytenian says, “A bit, yes.”

My father presents them with our toe-rope. It's a darn-good thing we had one. They get it rigged to our car. And they pull us to the top of the hill. In the process, our muffler comes off. Turns out that it's entirely rotted out and a piece of junk anyway, but still...

We pull away and manage to not get stuck in the snow again, but the road was still rough and treacherous. It wasn't long before there is the sickening pop and then the uneven rumble that indicated a distinctly flat tire. A pot hole. Luckily we had a good spare tire (not just a donut). It was changed it due time, and we were underway again.

Incredibly, shortly before nightfall we arrived at a paved road and headed back down the coastal highway the same way we had come. I fell asleep in the car beside Lytenian and rested quite well.

Pictures and videos soon to come on my myspace.



My Father's Telling Of This Same Experience

Dirt Road & Beautiful View

So, late Friday night, nearly midnight, we departed (Lytenian, my father and I) for a weekend adventure north of Lytenian's location. I didn't realize, at the outset, how far we intended on traveling. Lytenian and I slept through the early part of the trip, and a little after dawn we woke up. We were along a coastal highway and had a marvelous view of the ocean. We stopped a few times to admire it's powerful waves.

It wasn't far into the day before the GPS directed us onto a remote dirt rode as being the 'fastest' way to a mountain of interest. (A destination we hoped to reach by nightfall.) Perhaps it needs a setting that says 'no four wheel drive' or 'car' vs being in a pick-up truck.

The winding dirt road was beautiful however. We didn't complain because of the dramatic scenery. Redwood trees rising up far, far, far above the car, and a glimpse into a forest so dense that it was completely dark when you looked deep within despite the bright sunlight. Gnarled white-barked trees covered in green moss that appeared to 'drip' from it's branches were scattered through the forest. Up and up we climbed, and still, the road remained ragged.

“Surely it will lead to a paved road soon,” we thought. We were in a national forest of sorts, and climbing the mountains, higher and higher. Over one foothill, and then onto a larger one. The road began to have more pot holes and more and more often we needed to slow down to ten miles an hour or even five miles and hour for them. The curves were often sharp and unlabeled with signs to warn us to slow down (not that we were foolish enough to go whipping around them), and there certainly wasn't any lines on the road. Thank goodness we did this in daylight.

We began to think of this mishap as a blessing because it was incredibly beautiful. We stopped for waterfalls, and springs and an overlook of a river. We climbed down rocks from the side of the road to examine some large moss-covered rocks more closely and then scaled those rocks as well. Lytenian helped me quite a bit with this adventure, even though it was (sort-of) my idea.

The coast was beautiful, the moss-covered trees and the red barks were wonderful, the rocks and the falls and river were nice as well. The road however, just kept getting worse, and the altitude just kept rising. We begin to see snow along the side of the road, to our surprise. We hadn't realized we were climbing that far up.

Now and again we'd see a little patch of snow on the road. I thought the snow intermingling with the moss-covered rocks was particularly beautiful. The road had essentially only one lane, but it didn't seem to matter since we were the only crazy people up there. We didn't see a soul on that dirt road out there.

We came across hills now and then were the trees had all been cut down. It made us quiet and sullen. It was easy to crack jokes and be merry about the dirt road when surrounded by red bark, green moss, white bark, green plants, red plants, turquoise creeks, gray and pale stones... But when surrounded by the sheer wasted forest stumps we were miserable and subdued, and it highlighted how far up and out of the way we were.

We even passed through an area where heavy machinery (clearly used for logging) was located on either side of the dirt road. The mud was so bad we had to rock the car back and forth to get through one spot. We began to feel a little worried then about how far out we were.

The inclines were often sharp, but not so much that it was troublesome... Until the snow was no longer in patches, but covering the road. At first it was only in areas with shade, and shallow enough that it didn't cause much harm. The trees looked like a postcard for Christmas. They were lovely evergreens, fifty to eighty feet tall I'd wager. Maybe taller, some of them.

The snow itself wasn't so worrisome. The dirt road alone wasn't terrible. The mountain alone was nothing new to us at all. But the three put together meant little traction, rough going, and a sheer drop to the side. It couldn't have been much further from ideal. Then, we began to worry in earnest. Surely this would end? We'd get over the peak and begin back down, wouldn't we?

We hit a patch of snow and showed no signs of moving forward. Without missing a beat I grabbed my shoes and began putting them on. Lytenian seemed a little slow on the uptake. I opened the door and climbed out over him (I had blankets piled in the backseat on the other side.) He followed shortly, and we got the car moving again. It wasn't long though before we were stuck yet again.

I had to drive us out of a couple because we needed both my father and Lytenian driving. Speaking of Lytenian, I believe he's gone to bed and is waiting for me, so I ought to join him.

So, cliff hanger: How did we get out of the mountains?

My Father's Telling Of This Same Experience

The Story's Conclusion

Updated Schedule

February 20th – Departure
February 21st - 24th – North Carolina
February 24th - 25th – Georgia (Atlanta / White)
February 25th - 26th – Louisiana (New Orleans)
February 26th - 28th – Texas / New Mexico / Arizona / Joann
March 1st – Arizona (Grand Canyon) / California (LA)
March 2nd - 12th – California (Walnut Creek / San Fransisco)
March 13th - 14th – Oregon (Portland)
March 15th - 23rd – California (Walnut Creek / San Fransisco)
March 24th – California (South Lake Tahoe) / Nevada
March 25th - 28th – Nevada / Arizona / Utah
March 29th - 30th – Colorado / Kansas / Missouri / Kentucky
March 31st - 1st – North Carolina
April 2nd - 3rd – West Virginia / Ohio / Pennsylavania
April 4th – New York (Buffalo)

Arizona

Arizona is amazing. The soil is often red, but it can also be all different shades of ocher, ranging from nearly white to a deep red. In the mountains you can find succulents growing up through snow. In the desert you can find petrified wood scattered here and there. The Mexican architectural influence is obvious.

We're arrived in Walnut Creek, California (near San Fransisco), and we'll be here for the next couple of weeks. I've posted my photos on my myspace roadtrip album. I'll write more about our adventures later.

New Orleans & Texas

Saturday, February 27th 2010 at 11:25am

We're currently in Texas, traveling towards San Antonio. We're about forty miles distant I believe. We're approaching San Marcos at this moment. I'm playing Nox Arcana out of my boyfriend's laptop speakers that he loaned me for the trip.
We slept in the car last night. My father only slept four hours I think. We've been driving almost straight since yesterday morning around nine in the morning. Yesterday at nine in the morning we were departing Atlanta, Georgia. We arrived in New Orleans last night a couple hours before sun set. We walked up and down the french district, and I bought a very awesome 'Living Dead Souls' trench coat that was marked down from it's original price.
Oh, and while we were in Atlanta, or rather, in White, Georgia we visited Childersburg, or was it Childersville? There was this interesting Native American museum that was also a preserved ground. Apparently in Georgia the Native Americans built large pyramid shaped mounds (with a 'cut-off' flat plateau top) for the purpose of building the chief's dwelling atop as well as temples and other important structures of the community.
Oh look! We're entering the San Antonio city limits right now... It's eleven-forty-three. I didn't expect it to be so soon. Not much as of yet to see. More bushes, more dead-looking trees, yellow and orange grass with patches of green. A mostly-clear blue sky with swipes of white cloud. It's quite warm – my father is opening his window.
Farms here and there. Patches of houses. Frequent exits that lead almost directly into gas stations. A plane in the sky, white and flying the same direction as us. The billboards are much more concentrated. Arrow truck sales.
Aha. The city proper I think... Many houses spread out to the right of us beyond a bunch of dry-looking shrubs. Ahead it looks like there might actually be a metropolitan area. Maybe...?
“I was under the delusion that were was a city here,” I say.
“Me too,” my father says. “But like I said, Texan cities can be forty square miles.”
“So perhaps we're just in a suburb,” I suggest. Then we pass under a sign that indicates that we're still headed to San Antonio. And jeez it's suddenly hot. I gotta put this heat-maker away.

[6:27pm]
Still on the I-10. Been on this thing since Alabama I believe. A long way, in any case. A little while ago a cop pulled us over again. Stupid DMV mix-up. He was nice enough to let us go.
There is a beautiful sunset before us. Dark blue and purple clouds swirl around a sky that is baby blue, and a powder blue that's nearly white, and a golden yellow with a slight pinkish tint.
Dad is still being irritable about being pulled over. I think he's angry with himself, and therefor wants to find somewhere else to pin blame and frustration – someone or something he can vent his anger on without being self-demeaning perhaps. That's one theory, anyway. We've pulled over and he's checking the car-bag. We've had it strung to the back (as it's intended to be strung) this entire time, but have decided to move it to the top of the car so that the license plate would be firmly attached to the car properly instead of dangling it off the bag. We figure that might somehow contribute to a future issue to continue to have it dangling.
My father's temper is in some ways, like Porcupine's. Not nearly so bad, but perhaps it was when he was Porcupine's age (twenty-eight, which is incidentally the same age as Paladin – not that you'd know it from the vast difference in their maturity levels.)
The clouds are just amazing. I wouldn't be able to capture them in a picture with their full glory. There is this effect as though a dark blue-purple dye was dripped into a pitcher of water. That's how beautifully the clouds are swirled throughout the sky. Towards the horizon, the sky behind the purple clouds, is white and gold-pink. Away from the where the sun is setting the sky is a powder blue fading into a baby blue.
Hills are appearing beside us. The ground has been flat for a long time and now hills rise up on both sides of the road, scattered with rock and little green bushes ranging from just a few inches squared (or rather – circled) to a few feet.
Today we stopped in San Antonio and looked at a couple of cathedrals (from the outside), and stopped at a grocery store called H-E-B I believe. I determined very quickly that indeed I would not want to live here. For one thing, no organic food. For another thing, way too damn hot and dry. For a third thing, too many Hispanics and their culture and influence. Between the country music and the Mexican music, and the country houses and country food and Mexican food and the country 'lifestyle' I think I'd about go insane.
Once again, I dislike Texas. I've never enjoyed visiting this state. The best part of it are the large empty parts without any people where this very interesting landscape flourishes on either side of the road. There are no trees, but lots and lots of shrubs, grasses and cacti. Some areas are entirely flat, and some, like the area we're in now, are quite full of hills.
It's finally dark enough that I've taken my sun-glasses off and put my regular glasses on. This is a comfortable amount of light. I almost wish I could somehow live at the north pole comfortably so tha the sun would always be on the horizon – well, except for that six months of darkness thing – I wouldn't be too crazy about that aspect.
Today we also stopped on Sonora. Some little 'historic' town in western Texas that had caverns nearby. Unfortunately we arrived about an hour too late to visit them. More unfortunate still is that they change to summer hours tomorrow. Funny timing we have.
Three-hundred and fourteen miles to El Paso. It's growing dark in earnest now. The sky to the right of me has turned into a dark blue; almost navy, but not quite. To the left it's still a light baby blue surrounding the area where the sun has just set.
Headlights. Night speed limit.

Atlanta, Georgia

We're currently staying with the two owners of an organic bakery in White, a 'suburb' of Atlanta, Georgia. They're very awesome people. Today we may visit one of the owners' friend's house whose house is supposedly haunted, and then tonight my father and I plan on going dancing with the woman owner's daughter. She's twenty-two, so her and I are of an age, so to speak.

Tomorrow morning we intend on setting off for New Orleans.

I've added pictures to my myspace Road Trip 2010 album, as well as posting two videos to my myspace which are essentially short roadtrip blogs: http://www.myspace.com/raederle.phoenix

North Carolina to Georgia

Written around noon:

We are on the road. We're still in North Carolina. The trees along the side of the road are quite fabulous. They're more diverse than you tend to see in many places. Oh look, a cow farm – about fifteen cows, five of them fairly young. Open fields frequently open up within the trees, golden grasses, green bushes, red leaved trees, white leaved trees, evergreens, a forest floor covered in hues of orange, yellow, and brown. It's bizarre how much it looks like fall here – in February. Very strange indeed.

White barked trees, thin stands of bush-like trees... a yellow field wide open just beyond the line of trees... a deep forest thick with growth... evergreens, evergreens, and then a farm.

It's raining today. The white mist is fairly thick. The rain changes now and again into snow, and then back into rain. The rain is almost more of a mist than actual droplets. We're in a thin and wet cloud. We just pulled out from behind a truck that we've been behind for a while. He was going sixty-miles an hour in a seventy-mile-an-hour zone; seemed a bit unnecessary.

It appears that there actually a vine in the forest that is growing at this time of year, it appears to have little green shoots on it, although it's hard to be sure.

It's just a beginning, but on my myspace, in my photos, there is an Album called "Roadtrip 2010" and it's got a few pictures posted thus far. More to come later, when it's not so late at night. http://www.myspace.com/raederle.phoenix

Deciding Our Next Stop

I posted a message on a forum on couch-surfer for Atlanta, Georgia, hoping to find a place to crash tomorrow night. And with luck, I got the following response:

Hi Phoenix.

I'll text you to let you know I sent this.

I'm right off of I-75, in the woods north of Atlanta. I own Georgia's only certified organic bread bakery and it's right here on my property.

I only recently quit playing World of Warcraft because the raids were taking up too much time, but it's a gamer-friendly house. The other baker is now living in the in-law suite I have listed on my profile, but I still have a guest room.

I'm 57, the other baker, Matt, is 39 and my cat is 18.

I'm about 35 minutes north of Atlanta.

Let me know if you're interested.

Dianne

I wrote back:

Hey, sorry, I'm an idiot for not mentioning that I can't receive texts. So I don't have your phone number.

I'd be very grateful for the place to stay - my father and I both. I also quit World of Warcraft mostly because it was taking too much time, but also because funds were too low to justify the cost of it.

That's awesome that you have an organic bread bakery! I'd be interested to see it, and possibly get some bread. :p

I contacted several people, but I've had three people write back and say they had other obligations. I did try sending out messages to people before the trip started, but gave up when so many people said "well, I don't know what I'll be doing in two weeks." But then I was so busy with packing and other preparations I didn't realize until we got to NC that I didn't have anywhere lined up for us to sleep between here and Arizona. >.<

So yes, yes, much, much appreciated.

We're intending on leaving tomorrow morning, sometime between 4am and 11am; we have not yet decided if we're going to get any sleep or not yet. *laughs*

And we're going to stop in Asheville, NC just to look around and see what we see and be there for a few hours before heading south to Georgia. So that lands us arriving there sometime between 3pm and 10pm. I'll know better tomorrow when we're actually on the road.

If you don't read this and reply this (with your number) before I pack up my laptop, the only way I'll have to be able to contact you is if you call me, so please do. :)

Thanks so much. :)

~Raederle Phoenix
&
Dale

North Carolina

North Carolina. The sun is shining. I don't think there is any snow here, although there was much snow between here and Buffalo. Last night there was a beautiful sunset as we were driving through Virginia. Snow covered the ground on both sides of the highway. The dark ominous trees stood in their bare glory, like dark brown hairs rising from a pale bumpy giant. The sun, a perfect red disc could be seen setting through the trunks of the trees. The clouds were illuminated in shades in pink, orange and red. It was beautiful.

I took pictures. I suppose I ought to post them.

Comparisons: Buffalo vs. Walnut Creek

There are many things to notice about the difference between Walnut Creek, California and Buffalo, New York. For one thing, there are hills here, and lots of houses on the tops of hills. Because this is the wet season, (February) everything here is green, and the trees still have their leaves, and the hills are covered in plants at their fullest. Green spills out of pots, and yards, and twines it's way up houses and across hills. It's completely different to the wash of whites and grays that Buffalo is during February.

Also, I notice there are many more Asians here, and I like that. The features of Asian people are pleasing and different, even on the elderly and not-so-striking Asians, I still like seeing them. Something about how far away they "come from" and how exotic they seem just because I've seen so few of them throughout my life.

Another point of interest is how crowded parking is. Everywhere you go the parking spaces are small and compact, and there are few places available to park. It's clear that the area is much more densely populated. As of yet, I have not personally seen any traffic jams, but I've also never seen the practically empty streets which are quite usual during most hours of the day in Buffalo.

The sun and the clouds here are both amazing. I love the beautiful cloud formations. I could certainly love the winter climate here; although I'm guessing that the Summer climate would be more than my body would be able to handle. I'd likely be found sprawled in front of an air conditioner with wet clothing (to keep extra cool.)

This is the longest I've been away from home in a very long time, and certainly the longest amount of time I've ever spent in California, or nearly so far away from home. It brings to mind how odd it would be for me to call any place but Buffalo my home.

First thoughts

The trip on the airplane was phenomenal. The first plane left Buffalo at sunrise with an astounding view of the sun just coming over the lip of the earth, alighting the horizon in a dark red shining line. As the airplane rose this red line appeared to grow brighter and brighter.

As the plane rose above the clouds I was amazed to discover that there was a layer of clouds beneath me and a layer of clouds above me.

After arriving in San Francisco I was a little blown away by the airport shuttle. It was incredibly fast and sleek.

I might have seen a bit more, but I was a little bit preoccupied with staring at my love, who I've only just laid eyes on in person for the first time the day before yesterday.

Traveling Blog

Traveling

Tomorrow I am leaving to head off to California. I will be there for three weeks and return on February 14th.
February 20th I'm heading off on a road trip with my father to drive around the country for a month, and possibly a little longer. Expecting to return between March 25th and April 1st.
This blog is a place I will write about unusual experiences, new experiences, and compare and contrast different locations from my home city, Buffalo, NY.

Progressivism

"Progressivism is a political and social term for ideologies and movements favoring or advocating changes or reform, usually in an egalitarian direction for economic policies (public management) and liberal direction for social policies. Progressivism is often viewed in opposition to conservative ideologies."

The Wikipedia Explanation

"Progressivism is a political movement that represents the interests of ordinary people in their roles as taxpayers, consumers, employees, citizens, and parents. To coin a phrase, progressivism champions government "of the people, by the people, for the people."Given this mission, one might expect all democracies to be made up predominantly of one or another Progressive parties. Unfortunately, this isn't the case."

Living Progressive

"Progressivism was not so much an organized movement as it was a general spirit of reform embraced by Americans with diverse goals and backgrounds during the early twentieth century (1900-20). Progressives sought the advancement of humanity. Progressives sought advancement through the liberation of human energies and potential from both the fading restraints of past ages and the new restraints imposed by modern industrialism. Progressivism was, thus, both forward-looking and backward-looking in its outlook."

More About Progressive Reforms

Libertarian

A1. What is a libertarian?

The word means approximately "believer in liberty". Libertarians believe in individual conscience and individual choice, and reject the use of force or fraud to compel others except in response to force or fraud. (This latter is called the "Non-Coercion Principle" and is the one thing all libertarians agree on.)

A2. What do libertarians want to do?

Help individuals take more control over their own lives. Take the state (and other self-appointed representatives of "society") out of private decisions. Abolish both halves of the welfare/warfare bureaucracy (privatizing real services) and liberate the 7/8ths of our wealth that's now soaked up by the costs of a bloated and ineffective government, to make us all richer and freer. Oppose tyranny everywhere, whether it's the obvious variety driven by greed and power-lust or the subtler, well-intentioned kinds that coerce people "for their own good" but against their wills.

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Q: Aren't libertarians in favor of legalizing drugs? That's crazy! We'd have even worse problems than we have right now with mafias and addiction!

A: Like you, I want to live in a society where drug-motivated violence is a thing of the past, and where innocent people do not suffer in jail. The only way to accomplish this is by legalizing drugs, like they were before Prohibition and the Drug War began. Because drugs are illegal, there is a tremendous black market which causes violence in the streets, causes other types of crimes because black market prices are much higher than they would be in a free market, and also puts more than half a million people in prison every year in the United States. If drugs were legalized, they would become like any other product. There would be no need for gangs and violence because there would be no more black market. And it's been shown that in countries where a drug is legal, use of that drug is significantly lowered.

Q: You libertarians want to have only private schools. Wouldn't that ruin the education of our children?

A: Like you, I want education to be a social priority. How our children learn is of vital importance to our future. That is why we must take education out of the government's hands and let the free market give more flexibility and efficiency to our education system. Right now, the public schools' “one size fits all,” bureaucratic mode of education is making our children stupider and wasting our money. The average tuition in a public school is twice that of private schools.

Furthermore, the National Assessment of Educational Progress has shown that progress in learning is faster in private schools than in public schools, and all the tests show private schooling and homeschooling being superior to public schooling. Finally, it is not necessary to give up gratuity to have private schools: we could establish charter schools, which already exist and provide a more efficient alternative to government control without giving up gratuity.

The most important thing to remember is that truth is inherently comparative. The same thing is true about politics: to show that libertarianism is the best alternative, you must contrast it to statist alternatives. Government is inefficient and does not work. If you show this truth over and over in all domains, then it becomes inescapable.

There is a less scrupulous tactic used by statists, which is to try to find the "weak point" of your ideology. If they can just get you on one question you can't answer, or one answer that they don't like, then libertarianism must be false.

In this case, you have to eventually stop answering questions and ask them point blank what their choice is: their own freedom, or the state's power to make decisions for them. That is the fundamental question. Discussion about issues is very important, but is not a standard that permits us to choose between ideologies. What permits us to choose between ideologies is how well one compares to another.

When arguing for libertarianism, the truth is on your side. Use this effectively by turning statist arguments and questions from their emotionalist components and into the underlying rational desires that libertarianism addresses.

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The Principles

1. Government is force. Every government program, law, or regulation is a demand that someone do what he doesn't want to do, refrain from doing what he does want to do, or pay for something he doesn't want to pay for. And those demands are backed up by police with guns.

You expect that force to be used only against the guilty. But we can see how the Drug War, the foreign wars, asset forfeiture, the Patriot Act, and other government activities have used force just as often against the innocent — people who have not intruded on anyone else's person or property.

In fact, government force is used more often against the innocent than the guilty, because the guilty make it their business to understand the laws that apply to them and stay clear of them. Meanwhile, the innocent, thinking they've nothing to fear, suddenly find that they've innocently violated laws they never heard of.

2. Government is politics. Whenever you turn over to the government a financial, social, medical, military, or commercial matter, it's automatically transformed into a political issue — to be decided by those with the most political influence. And that will never be you or I.

Politicians don't weigh their votes on the basis of ideology or social good. They think in terms of political power.

3. You don't control government. It's easy to think of the perfect law that will stop the bad guys while leaving the good guys unhindered. But no law will be written the way you have in mind, it won't be administered the way you have in mind, and it won't be adjudicated the way you have in mind.

Your ideal law will be written by politicians for political purposes, administered by bureaucrats for political purposes, and adjudicated by judges appointed for political purposes. So don't be surprised if the new law turns out to do exactly the opposite of what you thought you were supporting.

4. Every government program will be more expensive and more expansive than anything you had in mind when you proposed it. It will be applied in all sorts of ways you never dreamed of.

When Medicare was initially passed in 1965, the politicians projected its cost in 1992 to be $3 billion — which is equivalent to $12 billion when adjusted for inflation to 1992 dollars. The actual cost in 1992 was $110 billion — nine times as much.

And when Medicare was enacted, Section 1801 of the original law specifically prohibited any bureaucratic interference with the practice of medicine. Today not one word of that protection still applies. The federal government owns the health-care industry lock, stock, and barrel.

The new program you support will eventually include all sorts of powers and privileges you can't even imagine right now.

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Philosophically, Americanism means individualism. Individualism holds that one's personal identity, moral worth, and inalienable rights belong to one as an individual, not as a member of a particular race, class, nation, or other collective.

But collectivism is the premise of "Buy American." In purchasing goods, we are expected to view ourselves and the sellers not as individuals, but as units of a nation. We are expected to accept lower quality or more expensive goods in the name of alleged benefits to the national collective.

Most "Buy American" advocates are motivated by misplaced patriotism. But for some the motive is a collectivist hostility towards foreigners. This xenophobic attitude is thoroughly un-American; it is plain bigotry.

Giving preference to American-made products over German or Japanese products is the same injustice as giving preference to products made by whites over those made by blacks. Economic nationalism, like racism, means judging men and their products by the group from which they come, not by merit.

Collectivism reflects the notion that life is "a zero sum game," that we live in a dog-eat-dog world, where one man's gain is another man's loss. On this premise, everyone has to cling to his own herd and fight all the other herds for a share of a fixed, static, supply of goods. And that is exactly the premise of the "Buy American" campaign. "It's Japan or us," is the implication. If Japan is getting richer, then we must be getting poorer.

But individualism recognizes that wealth is produced, not merely appropriated, and that man's rise from the cave to the skyscraper demonstrates that life is not a zero-sum game—not where men are free to seek progress.

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Now our only rights, the American viewpoint continues, are the rights to life, liberty, property, and the pursuit of happiness. That's all. According to the Founding Fathers, we are not born with a right to a trip to Disneyland, or a meal at Mcdonald's, or a kidney dialysis (nor with the 18th-century equivalent of these things). We have certain specific rights – and only these.

Why only these? Observe that all legitimate rights have one thing in common: they are rights to action, not to rewards from other people. The American rights impose no obligations on other people, merely the negative obligation to leave you alone. The system guarantees you the chance to work for what you want – not to be given it without effort by somebody else.

The right to life, e.g., does not mean that your neighbors have to feed and clothe you; it means you have the right to earn your food and clothes yourself, if necessary by a hard struggle, and that no one can forcibly stop your struggle for these things or steal them from you if and when you have achieved them. In other words: you have the right to act, and to keep the results of your actions, the products you make, to keep them or to trade them with others, if you wish. But you have no right to the actions or products of others, except on terms to which they voluntarily agree.

To take one more example: the right to the pursuit of happiness is precisely that: the right to the pursuit – to a certain type of action on your part and its result – not to any guarantee that other people will make you happy or even try to do so. Otherwise, there would be no liberty in the country: if your mere desire for something, anything, imposes a duty on other people to satisfy you, then they have no choice in their lives, no say in what they do, they have no liberty, they cannot pursue their happiness. Your "right" to happiness at their expense means that they become rightless serfs, i.e., your slaves. Your right to anything at others' expense means that they become rightless.

That is why the U.S. system defines rights as it does, strictly as the rights to action. This was the approach that made the U.S. the first truly free country in all world history – and, soon afterwards, as a result, the greatest country in history, the richest and the most powerful. It became the most powerful because its view of rights made it the most moral. It was the country of individualism and personal independence.

Today, however, we are seeing the rise of principled immorality in this country. We are seeing a total abandonment by the intellectuals and the politicians of the moral principles on which the U.S. was founded. We are seeing the complete destruction of the concept of rights. The original American idea has been virtually wiped out, ignored as if it had never existed. The rule now is for politicians to ignore and violate men's actual rights, while arguing about a whole list of rights never dreamed of in this country's founding documents – rights which require no earning, no effort, no action at all on the part of the recipient.

You are entitled to something, the politicians say, simply because it exists and you want or need it – period. You are entitled to be given it by the government. Where does the government get it from? What does the government have to do to private citizens – to their individual rights – to their real rights – in order to carry out the promise of showering free services on the people?

The answers are obvious. The newfangled rights wipe out real rights – and turn the people who actually create the goods and services involved into servants of the state. The Russians tried this exact system for many decades. Unfortunately, we have not learned from their experience. Yet the meaning of socialism (this is the right name for Clinton's medical plan) is clearly evident in any field at all – you don't need to think of health care as a special case; it is just as apparent if the government were to proclaim a universal right to food, or to a vacation, or to a haircut. I mean: a right in the new sense: not that you are free to earn these things by your own effort and trade, but that you have a moral claim to be given these things free of charge, with no action on your part, simply as handouts from a benevolent government.

How would these alleged new rights be fulfilled? Take the simplest case: you are born with a moral right to hair care, let us say, provided by a loving government free of charge to all who want or need it. What would happen under such a moral theory?

Haircuts are free, like the air we breathe, so some people show up every day for an expensive new styling, the government pays out more and more, barbers revel in their huge new incomes, and the profession starts to grow ravenously, bald men start to come in droves for free hair implantations, a school of fancy, specialized eyebrow pluckers develops – it's all free, the government pays. The dishonest barbers are having a field day, of course – but so are the honest ones; they are working and spending like mad, trying to give every customer his heart's desire, which is a millionaire's worth of special hair care and services – the government starts to scream, the budget is out of control. Suddenly directives erupt: we must limit the number of barbers, we must limit the time spent on haircuts, we must limit the permissible type of hair styles; bureaucrats begin to split hairs about how many hairs a barber should be allowed to split. A new computerized office of records filled with inspectors and red tape shoots up; some barbers, it seems, are still getting too rich, they must be getting more than their fair share of the national hair, so barbers have to start applying for Certificates of Need in order to buy razors, while peer review boards are established to assess every stylist's work, both the dishonest and the overly honest alike, to make sure that no one is too bad or too good or too busy or too unbusy. Etc. In the end, there are lines of wretched customers waiting for their chance to be routinely scalped by bored, hog-tied hair-cutters some of whom remember dreamily the old days when somehow everything was so much better.

Do you think the situation would be improved by having hair-care cooperatives organized by the government? – having them engage in managed competition, managed by the government, in order to buy haircut insurance from companies controlled by the government?

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