Ship of Fools.

Ride on, ride on, in majesty!

[Up, Down]

 

THESE ARE CLIMATE CRIMINALS ! If only they each had two heads, carried pitchforks and sported fiery daemonic horns and tails, or drooled uncontrollably. Read it and weep: Canadian Energy Strategy, July 2015. The Redford Rah Rah engine is out: before and after. Not much serious criticism. No howls of rage. The Editorial Board at the Globe register mild dismay. David Suzuki is in the Times Colonist and repeated on Huffington; but he is too polite by well more than half. Jeff Rubin is not so polite and hits it right on the mark: Canada needs an energy strategy, but not one focused on pipelines. I am moved to go looking for metaphors; fossicking about and stumble over/remember one from many years ago in Philosophy 101: Plato/Socrates in The Republic (section VI) - The Ship of Fools. Just as I'm thinking about all this I read Peter Sale's latest post: Dark Truths; which leads me to revisit Hannah Arendt's 'Men in Dark Times' - one of the few home-remedies for overwhelming despair I have found - and then to look again at some scientific papers on the necessary timing of carbon emission reductions if our civilization and ourselves are going to make it through. Here's a liberated copy of Meinshausen's 2009 paper. At that time a reasonable drop-dead date to achieve a flat Keeling Curve looks like 2024. Not any more. By 2012 Joeri Rogelj (Nature Climate Change: 2020 emissions levels required to limit warming to below 2°C, Joeri Rogelj, David McCollum, Brian O’Neill, & Keywan Riahi, December 2012) is putting it between 2015-2020. There are no liberated copies of this - I got one from the (gracious) author. Various good evidence (including previous papers by James Hansen) and my own proclivities lead me to settle on 2015. In James Hansen's latest: 2°C global warming is highly dangerous (120 pages is daunting, the abstract and conclusions not so much) I don't find any such estimates. Instead it's "Emergency!" When an old Iowa farmer yells "Emergency!" I listen, figguring he means "Now!". There is no shortage of scientific evidence that humanity must stop carbon emissions soonest if we are to survive and the idiot premiers are still planning for pipelines.   DOH! Thirteen crows on a wire: (With apologies to Wallace Stevens.) (Mail, telephone and email coordinates for the thirteen sleveens pictured here can be found below.)

Dear Premiers, That was your big chance - and you blew it. I suppose you're happy, relieved that with the exception of some polite criticism from David Suzuki the 'media' appear to be letting you get away with your ridiculous 'Canadian Energy Strategy'. In the same way that most of the Roman Catholic bureaucracy, in Canada at least, have let Laudato Si' slide into yesterday's news, your bad joke sinks into the murk almost without a bubble. You may even be congratulating yourselves that you did not stand up to be counted as Jorge Bergoglio/Pope Francis did since his encycical has so far "forked no lightning" (to use an image from Dylan Thomas). Be careful though, you may be taken by surprise: consider the athiests who publicly endorse Laudato Si' and are strengthened and emboldened by it; and consider this silly half-baked 'strategy' of yours which places you unequivocally among the do-nothing deniers. You have faithfully followed the lame example of your colleagues Wynne & Couillard and their bogus carbon trading scheme, in presenting politically resonant but useless policies as you play to all sides on the issue. You won't believe me I know, but once upon a time I too made 300+ a year and I fully appreciate the seductiveness of it, the tendency towards insulated & mediated perceptions of what's going on - including inside one's own skin. I understand the happy smiling faces you show for photographs. But one or two generations hence - it won't be long - if your names are remembered at all it may be by your own grandchildren if you have any, who will curse you for not acting to stop climate change and the related environmental ... What do we call it? 'Crisis'? 'Armageddon'? 'End'? ... when it was "in you and in the situation," to do the right thing and you took the easy way out. I know you will not read this yourselves, but perhaps the functionary assigned to scan your correspondence who does look at it will ... understand, and will then just get up and walk away to join the Unis'tot'en Camp - that would be a good start. Be well.

Ride on, ride on, in majesty! Hark! all the tribes Hosanna cry; Thine humble beast pursues his road With palms and scattered garments strowed. Ride on, ride on, in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die! O Christ! Thy triumph now begin Over captive death and conquered sin. Ride on, ride on, in majesty! The wingèd squadrons of the sky Look down with sad and wondering eyes To see the approaching sacrifice. Ride on, ride on, in majesty! Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh; The Father, on His sapphire throne, Awaits His own anointed Son. Ride on, ride on, in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die; Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain, Then take, O God, Thy power, and reign. The 4-note rising scale at the beginning of the second part never fails to thrill me. The sound in this YouTube rendition is not very good, muddy, but you can get a general idea. Choral music is so moving because it is one of the few truly cooperative human activities, and is also difficult to either fake or effectively coerce. In the myth, Christ does not sail into Jerusalem, he rides a donkey; but it is easy enough to mentally hear Leonard Cohen's "Sail on! Sail on! O mighty Ship of State," overlayed. I trust the complexities of a (full-ish, please) 'Compare&Contrast' exercise between the christian crucifixion story and the annihilation of H. sapiens if not all planetary life (including soul as well as body when one annihiates the OED informs me) are not beyond you gentle reader. Lest you be tempted to underestimate the task: Consider this screen grab from the movie version of Tomas Pynchon's 'Inherent Vice' - using the facade of a California mental hospital to evoke Auschwitz, Arbeit macht frei - savouring the horrid and oh so 'inappropriate' comparison, while keeping in mind that American exceptionalism is as invisibly strong in Thomas Pynchon as it is in Bob Dylan ... and John McCain for that matter.

Koordinaten der Scheiße Köpfe: (von West nach Ost und Nord nach Süd)

Yukon Premier Darrell Pasloski: Yukon Government Administration Building 2071 Second Avenue, PO Box 2703 Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, Y1A 2C6 867-667-8660 premier@gov.yk.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Northwest Territories Premier Bob McLeod: PO Box 1320 Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, X1A 2L9 867-669-2311 bob_mcleod@gov.nt.ca and in Wikipedia Nunavut Premier Peter Taptuna: Government of Nunavut PO Box 1000 Station 200 Iqaluit, Nunavut, X0A 0H0 867-975-6000, 1-877-212-6438 (toll free) info@gov.nu.ca and a blurb in Wikipedia British Columbia Premier Christy Clark: PO Box 9041 Stn Prov Govt Victoria, British Columbia, V8W 9E1 250-387-1715 premier@gov.bc.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Alberta Premier Rachel Notley: 307 Legislature Building 10800 - 97 Avenue Edmonton, Alberta, T5K 2B6 780 427-2251 premier@gov.ab.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Saskatchewan Premier Brad Wall: 2405 Legislative Drive, Room 226 Regina, Saskatchewan, S4S 0B3 306-778-2429 bradwallmla@sasktel.net & premier@gov.sk.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Manitoba Premier Greg Selinger: 204 Legislative Building 450 Broadway Winnipeg, Manitoba, R3C 0V8 204-945-3714 premier@leg.gov.mb.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Ontario Premier Kathleen Wynne: Queen's Park, Legislative Building Toronto, Ontario, M7A 1A1 416-325-1941 premier@ontario.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Québec Premier Philippe Couillard: Édifice Honoré-Mercier 835, boulevard René-Lévesque Est, 3e étage Québec, G1A 1B4 418-643-5321, 514-873-3411 email interface and the blurb in Wikipedia New Brunswick Premier Brian Gallant: Centennial Building, PO Box 6000 Fredericton, New Brunswick, E3B 5H1 506-453-2144 premier@gnb.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Prince Edward Island Premier Wade MacLauchlan: Fifth Floor South, Shaw Building 95 Rochford Street, PO Box 2000, Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, C1A 7N8 902-368-4400 premier@gov.pe.ca and the blurb in Wikipedia Nova Scotia Premier Stephen McNeil: 7th Floor, One Government Place 1700 Granville Street Halifax, Nova Scotia, B3J 1X5 902-424-6600 premier@novascotia.ca and a blurb in Wikipedia Newfoundland Premier Paul Davis: Confederation Building, East Block PO Box 8700 St. John's, Newfoundland, A1B 4J6 709-729-3570 premier@gov.nl.ca and in Wikipedia		(You know this is Stevie not Shelley right?) I also trust that anyone looking at this already knows that 'the economy' is the reddest of red herrings and is presented for entertainment value only. I know I'll never be forgiven for suggesting any connection between Bill Reid and a Ship of Fools, and yet ...

Sitting on a bench in the park:   One is not permitted to smoke in the Toronto Public Library, so when I'm working there I retire to a nearby park-bench once in a while; and sometimes another smoker comes by and asks for a light. It happened today. An older gent walking his dog stopped, and when he was lit we had a short conversation. He began with a back-handed joke about smoking. I replied that harsh judgements on smokers are disproportionate when one considers the evils of climate change and potential extinction of our species due to fossil fuel addiction. He said, "Oh no, technology will find a solution for all that." I said I'd looked into it and found that the technological remedies don't wash. He said, "But they've discovered other earth-like planets close by. We'll just move over there." I asked how we would ever travel even 100 light-years of distance en masse? We laughed. His dog began to chase another that was passing and off he went. Not long after at the bank I noticed that the teller had henna designs on her hands. I said, "I think it must be delightful to have someone painting such lovely, fine, things on one's hands." She looked at me and smiled: "Yes," she said, "It is." Were any of Arendt, Milman, or Reid able to concretely, seriously, imagine a final end of H. sapiens I wonder? As an intellectual exercise maybe - the proposition for a university debate - but not, I don't think, to savour emotionally. (I don't really mean 'able to', gentle reader, because they might, would probably &c., have accomplished it had it occurred to them.) While Pynchon & Dylan live full on in that space and 'float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.'         Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull,         From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol.         Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth.         You're an idiot, babe. It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.         Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves.         We're idiots, babe. It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves.

 
[Up, Down]

Why ... NOT?

TARTUFFERIE!   FUCKERY!   ASSHOLERY!
(Being an attempt to conclude a previous meditation 
on the death of 'The Movement' by correctitude.)

[Up, Down]

Is there life after    And death after     And life after death                  death?                 life after death?     after life after death?                  Whatever!             We'll know.           Do you want to find out                You watch the                                                                        right this minute!                           game yesterday? There's a demonstration in Quebec City on April 11. It takes me a minute to figgure out why not 11 days later - but I do. I think about going but know the bus ride will do me in, and anyway I have no money. A week or so later someone passes this article: A new high bar for campaign integration onto a list server that comes my way. I READ IT ... & ... SAY WHA?   !!!! [Background music here is (still, a hangover from Earth Day) Leonard Cohen's 'The Future'.] OK, let's look at the text: One: The address of this 'advisor' is Salt Spring Island. This is a clue. He thinks there is a 'parliament' building in Quebec City, which cinches it. Two A: He uses a specialized terminology - words like 'pivot', 'digital campaigning' &c. - which is the clear indication of a consultant. Consultants are like lawyers except they mostly have British accents and don't know anything about the law. Two B: The author has apparently been taught that positive thinking will trump facts. Simply not so, but especially after-the-fact when what you need is (possibly brutal) honesty. Instead he is full of hearty back-slaps and most of them for himself. Positive thinking is not all bad - it can make unpleasant events palatable and used ironically can be humourous - but it isn't really thinking at all. Two: No amount of analysis of spun or bent or simply incorrect & incomplete facts will ever deliver useful results - unless it's government work, the objective is simply to keep your job, or the objective is to get laid. Three: He is confused about computers. I saw Occupy Toronto lose considerable momentum through similar confusion. (The infamous) Halliburton used to pay me a lot of money because I am not confused about computers. They are tools. They are means not ends. They are particularly prone to be misused based upon the "When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail" fallacy because most of the people who promote them are ... consultants. Anything that calls itself a "digital-first strategy" is bound to fail. Another important clue around computers can be found in this: "12,000 RSVP's online, 12,000 ongoing social media followers, well over 100,000 views of march videos, and a 'reach' from all related content well into the millions." The epitome of 21st century smoke & mirrors (or the very model of a modern major general if you will). Someone who does a lot of this kind of counting is Bill McKibben. [Leonard is singing "There won't be nothing you can measure any more."] Alpha & Omega: This began (for me, as I read it) with comparing 250,000 people in Montreal in 2012, and 100,000 (actually 75,000 according to most reports) people in Montreal on April 2 this year, with 25,000 people in Quebec City. Rule-of-thumb (given ~3 million Montreal population and ~1 million Quebec City population) gives us that the 25,000 could or should have been larger before calling it a success. "In her recent dystopia Margaret Atwood portrays the collapse of civilization in the near future. One of her characters asks, 'As a species we’re doomed by hope, then?' By hope? Well, yes. Hope drives us to invent new fixes for old messes, which in turn create ever more dangerous messes. Hope elects the politician with the biggest empty promise; and as any stockbroker or lottery seller knows, most of us will take a slim hope over prudent and predictable frugality. Hope, like greed, fuels the engine of capitalism." (Ronald Wright, 'A Short History of Progress', 2004)   There are those who pin their hopes on hope (so to speak) and fearfully disparage & despise despair as the certain way to apathetic catatonia/catalepsy. This is a false distinction and incorrect ætiology as well. I'll leave it there for you to think about - just in case you're (still) able to think. Tom Toles - A Victorian Arch from Popes to ... Popes: (or an eloquent squiggle as may be) Good to see a Pope getting over onto the right side of history for a change. The timing seems calculated to achieve maximum bang-for-the-buck before Copenhagen ... er ... Paris. Not a disinterested spiritual meditation then. Almost sorry that it's impossible for me not to put this praise backhanded; and I can see (from his approximately incomplete effort) that Tom Toles is comparably conflicted. Mike Bloomfield, Al Kooper, & Stephen Stills: Must be the season of the witch. C'mon Francis! Yeah! Get ALL the pussy! Another memorable suite from Laerte - a primer in semiotics: Make a likeness of my cruelty.                 I didn't say "a portrait of ME."           Why are you trembling?                                                              I said "of my CRUELTY."                   I'm not trembling. You made a likeness of my cruelty?         I didn't say a picture of the VICTIMS,       Would you rather do I did.                                                      but of my cruelty ITSELF.   Try again.      a likeness of my                                                                                                                          kindness?   No. No. Congratulations,        I know it wasn't       Not a portrait of me,                             You can ask for what you did it.                 easy, but it's           nor of the visual effects                         you like.   Exile. I'm pleased.              a true likeness        of my cruelty, but of itself,                                of my cruelty.          of its essence.                                I'm very pleased. I claim not to've had any feedback but (of course) it's not strictly speaking true. Early days in 2009 sometime I had a short email from Adriana Mugnatto that criticism might not be the best way forward for me in Toronto. I did read it carefully but ... it took a long time to sink in and then I guess I got distracted when she began turning her back on me. And since then, silence on all sides. It seems like a long time. If wishes were horses beggars would ride. Toronto had an official (paid) Fool when I was at Rochdale. Kim Foikas I think his name was. I tried hanging out but it was springtime (almost summer) in Toronto and cunt was in the air and he didn't want a wing man; so I fell in love with a tiny welfare-mom and her kids instead and spent all my money buying her groceries until I found out she was headed off to a farm somewhere in B.C. with the (quite large & competent) guy who organized Rochdale's cafeteria. I remember thinking that getting out of town would be a good idea. I was already clear of notions of jealousy and 'women as chattel'. As it turned out she wasn't and off they went. So. Maybe by now anyone with any sense has already left town, and THAT'S why there's nothin' happnin' here. Is that it? Which is trump: Hope or trust? Which is possible inside a city? And which is (only) possible outside or beyond? These (urban? young?) people don't read resumés - they don't read at all - but if they did, my time as a Fire Chief & Mayor and later on learning Portuguese thanks to Dick Cheney's Halliburton is no secret. Easy enough then to identify me as the CSIS guy (since we know there is at least one in every woodpile). If I were Stevie Harper & Joe 'Arseholedent' Oliver and wanted to hamstring a movement of vicious foreign environmental terrorists on a shoestring budget I would have CSIS vaccinate 'em with every notion of correctitude known to man ('man' used advisedly) and then leave them to thrash their way into total ineffectuality. Call it the '4 & ⅞ths column' then eh?.   What d'you think? A-and pass a law so if anyone does stick their head up we can render 'em quick & extraordinary. I have seen the best minds of my generation ... distracted, enervated, buggered (and loving it). (Apologies to Allen Ginsberg.)   The Guardian's first viral video has plateaued at just over 100,000 hits. Not enough. Worth sticking around though, just to see what our good Alan R. tries next - I don't think he's a quitter. Not like Jim wazizname in Alberta ... Jim Prentice; he's a quitter, petulant, smirking. So am I I guess. A quitter and a blamer-of-others. All around asshole. Oh well. I take it as given that the gentle (but perspicacious) readers of this blog know it takes two to tango and that all knives cut both ways, and that meditative reflection does, in fact, reflect. I ask: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG  WITH ME ?!   as well, and know I share in the near universal TARTUFFERIE!   FUCKERY!   &   ASSHOLERY!   Albeit these aspects are mostly left implicit. This is an unrepentant whoremonger over here remember. It ain't no saint. And I trust y'all can figgure your way through Matthew's text "go and tell him his fault between thee and him" with this in mind. I was going to do another post titled 'Feral Jubilee' but I may not get around to it so:

For the record, I don't know for sure that these two animals are from Cape Breton or even if they're coyotes. The meditation is not properly concluded is it? Oh well. You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. Or read & reflect or think as the case may be. Probably didn't get as far as maieutic and if they did, dismissed it figguring me for a show off. It does no good at all for me to say I'm not. [They cancelled my 350 membership though, with no announcement and no recourse. I should be honoured I suppose.] This is the 144th post in this section of the blog. 144 is an interesting number. It has a name: a gross, a dozen of dozens. It has resonances other than decimal; and with numbers like 256 / 28 (which is important in computing) and 169 / 132 (being the next square). Pounds shillings and pence. Pecks & furlongs & fathoms. Even (perhaps?) as far away and along as the Mayan system of 20s. The cross is empty. The grave is empty. (Say the Christians.) But of course they're empty! They're always empty. The person is gone - and it is most natural to assume that she or he has gone off ... somewhere else. The clues that are left, memories, feelings, artefacts (including the corpse itself), sustain the 'elsewhere' and it augments if for no other reason than that it is ... not (and so cannot be tested). A proposition that can be tested is this: Don't listen to the fat old fuck! Don't answer him when he speaks. Ignore him. Say nothing to him. Maybe he'll just ... go away, vanish. "I seen pretty people disappear like smoke," sez our Bob. Last words to John Donne: As Sicknes is the greatest misery, so the greatest misery of sicknes, is solitude; when the infectiousnes of the disease deterrs them who should assist, from comming; even the Phisician dares scarse come. Solitude is a torment which is not threatned in hell it selfe. (John Donne 'Devotions upon Emergent Occasions and seuerall steps in my Sicknes.  Meditation V: Solus adest. The Physician comes.' 1624)                               But of course, John Donne wasn't a Brasilian! Isn't that a portrait of death? It is. But don't be afraid. Pet her. You see? Gentle. [Or possibly 'tame', or both.] Shove a few more in here, too good to pass up:

 
[Up, Down]

Pot-pourri (rotten pot), potpourri, pauperie (poverty).

A-and of course, Popery.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
[What could this possibly mean?]

[Up, Down]

HALLELUJAH!   GOOD RIDDANCE TO BAD RUBBISH! May Jim Prentice's daemonic pipeline deals be buried along with himself:         Alberta’s ploy to break First Nations' pipeline opposition April 29; and,         LNG venture offers $1-billion for aboriginal consent May 1. AND MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM! The Globe and Mail:         Why cap-and-trade schemes are little more than a cash grab, Jeff Rubin, April 13 2015;         Globe Letters: April 15; and, Globe Letters: April 18. [Crowley must be getting desperate. The Globe is changing somewhat for the better - in the way that, say, a victim of anorexia begins to show edges. Graeme MacKay's cartoon is not from the Globe though. It merits a close look.] People you might not expect are congratulating these dipshit sleveens: Peter Sale for one. Maybe it's the 'least worst' principle rearing its ugly head, at a time when (I guess) there is something worse in our jaded imaginations than extinction.    [What could it possibly be?] Premier Wynne is also (reportedly) buying off the plutocrats with fat contracts to refurbish her fleet of nuclear plants.                         DOH?!   How fricken' short-sighted is that? The sad truth is that there is no party (in Canada or anywhere else) with a platform to properly address the environmental catastrophe. It won't be long before so-called mitigation becomes real-meal-deal palliative care. Considering history from 1750 to the present as a single sweep or wave, or as somewhat less than two quick whip-arounds of a spiral, gives each age-group a unique historical niche. (I'm sorry if that's a mouthful.) Jomo Kenyatta got me started thinking about age-groups a few years ago when I read his book 'Facing Mount Kenya: The traditional life of the Gikuyu'. Here's chapter 7 of that on the Initiation of Boys and Girls. Clear enough (perhaps) when considering a cohort which keeps within some cultural space; not so much in a 'modern' context where individuals may wander widely. All very loosey-goosey. Be that as it may - back in the day I did notice a preference (in myself) for friends in the age-groups older than me and a marked difference in ... 'stance' (let's say) among people beginning about half an age-group younger than me. It's a long story - idiosyncratic and no doubt due to temperament (or distemper), solipsism, whatever, so I'll spare you any more of it. Unless, that is, you take the time to look at the ages of the individuals presented here today. New York Times:         Crowning Preteen Beauty Queens, March 17; and,         Sally Mann’s Exposure, April 16. If it ain't (at the very least) self-indulgent to build careers on the heads of children (not generically in such as 'Alice in Wonderland' or 'Just So Stories' but very specifically) then I don't know what is. Consider the abject silliness of it all:         Solar Power Battle Puts Hawaii at Forefront of Worldwide Changes; and,         Judges Skeptical of Challenge to Proposed E.P.A. Rule on Climate Change.         Scrap fossil fuel subsidies now and bring in carbon tax, says World Bank chief; and,         World Bank fossil fuel financing leapt in 2014. Shitheads of a feather style their hair-dos together:         Fossil-fuel divestment is not the way to reduce carbon emissions;         10 questions Wellcome should answer on the Guardian's climate campaign;         Fossil fuel investments are an issue on which fair-minded people will disagree; and,         Why fossil fuel divestment is a misguided tactic. Coriolis acceleration is equal (but not opposite in this case) in the Southern Hemisphere:         Australian taxpayers funding climate contrarian's methods; and,         Greg Hunt ['Environment' Minister] defends $4m for Bjørn Lomborg. For cooking up self-serving rationales that hold no water, Bjørn Lomborg, Jeremy Farrar, & Mike Hulme have few equals. Melhor não ha! (as they say in Brasil). "Good from far but far from good," as they say up in The Pontiac. For the last few weeks Alan Rusbridger has been exhorting us to write to Jeremy Farrar and the Wellcome Trust board members - but 'please be cordial' he says because these people have done so much good work. A-and I have tried to compose such letters ... but they all come out loud and angry and bitter in the end. These people are such shit heads. Arrogant & complacent shit heads. Nothing more. By this time (if you've been following) you need some comic relief and good news: A very funny skit from Bill Maher:         Zombie Lies – Environmental Edition. Good news from Lester Brown and his colleagues:         The Great Transition         Shifting from Fossil Fuels to Solar and Wind Energy; and with,         A preview of Chapter 1. Changing Direction (pdf). And more good news demonstrating unequivocally how vulnerable the 'market' really is. What we need is 10,000 more like Navinder Singh Sarao and maybe the whole shitty mess comes tumbling down. Akrasia (as noted previously). The Koch's have to know that they may own the world but only for slightly longer than the rest of us and then their dynasty ends along with everything else - not with a bang but a whimper. They have to know this don't they? The entire thing defies belief.

 
[Up, Down]