Below the Earth – Above the Sun: Stranger in a Strange Land

I’d like to start this missive with a shout of gratitude to a few organizations. First, every public library in every town. So far, i have yet to be turned away for lack of digital nomad-friendly workspaces (WiFi, power, comfortable tables/chairs). Next, Cracker Barrel. Often, strangers in nomad vehicles are not welcome for overnight stay in commercial parking lots. But not with Cracker Barrel. THANK YOU! And finally, though there is a nominal monthly fee, Planet Fitness has been a godsend for those of us who can’t go more than a couple days without a shower…. thank you twice over!

Now, transitioning from the professional treadmill into the ranks of fixed-income retirees has been a real eye opener for me. Things that would go unnoticed due to keeping head down and focusing on professional and parental knitting suddenly become glaringly obvious. For example, our nation’s once-proud melting pot has grown somewhat less tolerant of the stranger. Especially if the stranger is not of self-sufficient means. Intolerance and xenophobia have grown more and more common, and the problem isn’t confined to the United States, it’s a growing worldwide, human problem. Apparently, when we feel threatened, or fearful, we tend to default to selfish countenance, we struggle putting ourselves in the stranger’s shoes, we tend to point fingers and search for ready scapegoats.

And the unwelcome strangers are not only immigrants and refugees. We are strangers to each other over political, religious, or ideologic differences. And due to a lack of empathy in the wake of fear and threat, we find it difficult to agree or compromise on any topic of contention. This, despite the fact that the Internet has opened potential communication channels to literally anyone in the free world. Ironically, this hasn’t remedied the feeling of disconnection from one another but has exacerbated it. Thanks a lot, Al Gore!

I’ve heard of studies indicating the number of folks claiming to have no friends tripling over the last thirty years… ZERO friends?!?! Astounding! Another crowning irony in an age of social media where so-called “friend connections” can number in the thousands. Some say there is a loose correlation of social media exposure and loneliness. Of course, correlation isn’t causation, but so what? If there’s even a remote chance these correlations are indeed causal, should we not try a little harder to address them?

Even more troubling is a deeper correlation causation question originally posed by a truly loathsome individual. Recent tragic events have shone a light on the ideas espoused by the infamous luddite, Dr. Ted Kaczynski. That industrial society, mass-production culture, explosive urban sprawl, is a sickness whose only cure is the revolutionary rejection of industrial/technical society. And if violent means is necessary to bring this about, it is the obligation of right-minded revolutionaries to do what is necessary. Of course, we know how Dr. Kaczynski’s story ends. Unfortunately, there are folks out there who believe he was onto something, and some have put his ideas into action.

I cannot agree with the revolutionary luddites. I’ve been a techno-optimist for the entirety of my professional life. Unfortunately, exigencies of capitalism have tainted the affirming potential of global connection, democratic computing power, even machine intelligence. And so, at the end of my professional life, i’m forced to rethink these 5th Estate Evangelical tendencies. The baton is passed to the next generation of techno-optimists and i hope we can come to some sort of compromise between the needs of individuals and the needs of the commons before these revolutionary luddites blow up any more cyber confidence.

Kurt Vonnegut addressed the malaise of loneliness decades ago. He diagnosed our sickness and offered a remedy. He argued the tradition of rootless nuclear families was woefully inadequate to the task of providing human companionship. Specifically, ladies need lots of other ladies with whom to talk about anything and EVERY thing. Men need buddies with whom to punch in the arm and go do guy stuff with. Preferably away from the gaggle of ladies. He urged us to actively seek and spend as much time as possible with our “Karass” (extended families). They can be fraternal, they can be professional, they can be familial, but by surrounding ourselves with people who love and identify with us, perhaps we can cure this creeping cancer of loneliness and alienation.

If nothing else, this could give our kids a fighting chance of growing up with confidence and functional social skills. Seriously, Mom and Dad in the nuclear family arrangement only have each other for adult company? Dad doesn’t want to talk about EVERYTHING, and Mom doesn’t want to get punched in the arm bouncing around in a dune buggy. And what of the Moms and Dads who have concluded their union a mistake, and now don’t even have each other? Yes! This is a sickness. Bad for Mom and bad for Dad. As for the kids? Well many end up like the stranger. Ghosts, aimlessly wandering the Earth. Alone, ruminating society’s problems instead of practicing joyful follies with other like-minded imperfect human beings.

You may have heard of “The New Apostolic Reformation” (NAR). This is an antidemocratic movement at war with the secular order designed by our nation’s founders. They say the traditional family is the fundamental unit of God’s perfect order. But this “traditional” arrangement to which they refer is a patriarchal construct, and in the US, it should be glaringly obvious this male-supremacy arrangement has failed to deliver adequate human companionship and fellow-goodwill.

Mr. Vonnegut was right. Unfortunately, we are at a transition crossroad, and though the NAR believes they will dominate future cultural evolution on the coattails of the MAGA libertarian movement, what they don’t take into account is that the top of the MAGA food chain is populated by billionaires all about self-interest. They will abandon the NAR as soon as they come to cross purposes. As well, demographic trends simply can’t support a theocracy of any stripe. I hope saner heads prevail and we rethink what it means to be part of a traditional family with the aim of inclusion. Christians, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Mormons, and Secular Humanists all together in a mega-karass where no one is the stranger.

Cheers… Rohlfie

Hot Springs or Busk: Chapter II (mongrel of the rueful countenance)

And so… it’s probably good to get some background out of the way. And whether this public-facing journal features opinion, commentary, straight bald facts, mongrel music, or utterly inexplicable gonzo fiction, it’s important readers/listeners have access to the creator’s ethnic, cultural, socio-economic background, political leanings, as well as religious and/or gender identification. These things should be clear so that, rather than walking on rhetorical eggshells as is the custom these days, we can let our freak-flags fly… let these bare-metal stories/songs live and breathe as we see them. Unbounded by the illusion of disinterested objectivity, let’s pursue what Werner Herzog calls… “Ecstatic Truths.”

And since we’re not in cahoots with a genealogist, nor invested in 23andMe, this particular ancestry reaches back only so far as the late 19th century. It’s a shallow oral history scantly passed down by depression-era grand and great-grandparents. That said, it is an amusing clash of melting pot misfits: Jerrys (Deutsch), Harps (Gaelic), and Brits (English) all mashed together in Uncle Sam’s ethnic stew. Picture this, America: pre-WWI, a land teeming with more immigrant groups than a clown car at a rodeo. Among them, three distinct flavors: Stoic Jerrys, Guinness-swilling Harps, and stiff-upper-lip Brits. Now, imagine them crammed into the stew, a bubbling cauldron promising assimilation but spewing out this mongrel of rueful countenance… the alter-ego, Ronnie Hays.

Anyway, in the pre-war surge, a couple German immigrants (bless their lederhosey hearts) arrived in Pittsburg Kansas having never met in their native city, Bremen Germany. With the efficiency of healthy Volkswagen Beetles, this intrepid couple found a way to thrive in the desolate Kansas prairie. They labored, they brewed, they ooom pa’d with metronome precision. Their industriousness and tireless work-ethic hummed with the ineffable rhythm of Mother Nature’s shifting seasons. A stark contrast with the life and times of one of their sons (we’ll call him “Cool” Carl). Cool Carl moved West, to the gold mines of front-range Colorado, and once these wild-west gold-rush oats were sewn he settled in, built a brick house in the North Denver suburbs and raised a no-nonsense industrial beat-cop turned public works supervisor (call him Grumpalumpagus). This is where the Jerry genes crashed into the U.K. genes. Mr. Grumpalumpagus met and married a U.K. girl from Russell Kansas (we’ll call her Sassy SalGal), and the rest is female emancipation, generation gap, moonshots, hippies, rednecks, Indian uprisings, Viet Nam, race riots, billy clubs, police crackdowns, irreconcilable-differences, and divorce… history.

Add to the 1960s baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet culture-crisis, a fundamental communication gap between Grumpalumpagus (a Jerry husband) and Sassy SalGal (a U.K. wife) distracted by waves of female emancipation facilitated by the various social safety nets, contraception, and pop-intellectual peer-pressure and you get a three-ring circus of misinterpretations. The Jerry cop’s guttural proclamations insisting women be house servants sent shivers down Sassy SalGal’s back. She might have mistook his alpha pronouncements for some sort of desperate war-of-the-sexes battle cry. The Brit influence in her uttering lyrical oaths under mumbling breath. The playful, but scrappy Harp in her issuing caustic digs like leprechauns on a whiskey rampage. Of course her U.K. sense of sarcastic wit met with bewildered frowns from the Jerry cop, and also alarmed her British father whose clipped pronouncements, delivered as if they were coming from the Queen herself, failed to persuade SalGal back into her pre-emancipation place.

Now… what about our intrepid storyteller and his all-singing-dancing crap-of-the-world alter-ego… this “Yuppytown Refugee?” Well… amid the slapstick of the 1960s and 1970s, something remarkable happened. The Jerry work ethic rubbed off on the Harp’s tendency toward mournful poetry, inspiring our hero to trade brawling for bucking deadlines. The Harp’s infectious penchant for music and storytelling livened up the all-work-no-play grindstone, turning out a somewhat disciplined rueful troubadour with British influence, ever pragmatic, looking for economic potential in this mongrel stew.

Of course, it’s not all work-hard-play-hard and beer. Inner-tensions flare, prejudices fester, and the occasional existential brawl serves as a reminder of the differences that still bubble beneath the surface. But slowly, surely, a new identity emerges, a uniquely American blend of Bratwurst, Guinness, and Monty Python Flying Loopcircus.

Of course…. ch ch ch changes… modern inclusive culture has temporarily ushered him to the sidelines in order to make room for the rainbow character of this remarkable nation. The thing is, none of the normal trappings of acquisitive individualism matters to our mongrel of rueful countenance. The temporary disenfranchisement of white male energy doesn’t bother him at all. And if he can enjoy a few more healthy years for writing, playing, and singing his stories, even if no one is listening, he’s in his element… in need of nothing more.

So, the next time you raise a glass to the American Dream, remember the loopy cultural car crashes somehow managing to forge new soul from fragments of European heritage. It’s not always pretty, it’s not always peaceful, but it has been, and hopefully is still… entertaining.

To list MEMEtic influences would be too long for this posting, but here are a few examples: Kurt Vonnegut‘s irrepressible humor in the face of tragedy, Hunter S. Thompson‘s incisive musical prose, Tom Wolfe‘s wiz-popping use of vivid metaphor, or the entire tower of song mentioned by Leonard Cohen. It’s all part of this grand, messy, beautiful American experiment.

Cheers… Rohlfie

PS: That’s some gene/meme-pool stuff… didn’t get around to socio-economic class, politics, religion, or gender identity. Stay tuned… we’ll get to those things in future postings.

Beautiful Angry Noise

A day… a lifetime ago, i expressed an unkind general sentiment concerning monotheistic political activists in the presence of my children. My words were harsh… insensitive… but not altogether inaccurate. Not sure why the filter failed at that moment, but i decided to try and explain. Starting with this low, omnipresent, internal rumbling in my head… it plays counterpoint to tinnitus accumulated over the years. This rumbling, i have grown to regard as… a “Beautiful Angry Noise.” And on this occasion i let it out, unfiltered. Now i feel compelled to explain, and maybe in the process exorcise some radioactive trepidation felt in the run-up to the 2020 general election.

Where to start?

Ok… from objective observable phenomenon, it seems obvious, to me anyway, that humans can be junction points in a massive interdependent superorganism, greatly enhanced by the global Internet. Unfortunately, this view is not palatable to those inclined to monotheistic creeds, and i believe monotheistic-inclined political activists stand in opposition to the interests of this Earthbound (for now) superorganism. Their anti-science/intellectualism inexplicably damages, and perhaps even hastens humanity’s extinction, and this essential incompatibility between us is, i believe, partially responsible for the gaping political divide in the US and beyond. This essential incompatibility accounts for occasional “anger” prominent in the noise i live with… day in… day out.

The abovementioned Beautiful Angry Noise underscores my personal opposition to the counter-adaptive worldview of monotheistic political activists, but it’s not directed at any particular individual… more toward a xenophobic monoculture, featuring a misguided sense of any individual’s importance. This humming, omnipresent noise is a perfect harmony with my opposition to that xenophobic ethno-nationalist monoculture. A movement that is leading normally stable governments toward authoritarian backsliding… desperate grasps for uncontested supremacy. At the same time, there are opposing movements. Take, for example, Islamic culture’s push and pull with gender politics. As well, take any random puritanical religious fundamentalist struggle with LGTBQ acceptance.

Contrary fringe movements create chaos in sane gaps where people just want to find ways to do right by their loved ones and friends; to be good stewards of the planet; and to survive what amounts to humanity’s “technological adolescence.” If i have to be more specific, i would say the Islamic World’s “Jihad (struggle)” with modernity should be none of my business. Unfortunately, to make it so, my tax dollars should stop funding efforts to keep local populations in non-western oil-rich regions down. When will this fine day arrive? I can name names here though, and I’ll start with any and all family, friends, or neighbors who supported Ronald Reagan or Donald Trump to the office of POTUS. To them… i say… just… stop. Please just stop. I imagine many of these supporters would gladly confess to being monotheistic political activists… or card-carrying “Apocalyptic Christian Nationalists (ACNs).

But so what? Why would i call out ACNs? Well… it so happens i was once a member, ready for the “days of trouble.” Ready to ascend to Heaven… called by my triune lord and savior, Jesus Christ, Father God, and the Holy Spirit. As a card-carrying ACN, i was convinced that Earth, and everything on it was destined to burn in a “final confrontation” between the forces of good and evil. EVERYTHING burned to the ground, accompanied by the blood-red topping of unspeakable war carnage. But hey… NO WORRIES… according to the creator of the universe… the forces of good are destined to prevail, and the planet will be returned to its original pristine “Edenic” state. All will be right again… with evil purged… milk… honey… and nourishing manna from heaven restored for all eternity.

You see where this is going, right? ACNs aren’t concerned with effects of human activity on the global superorganism (don’t need stinking climate scientists), because… after the final smack-down between good and evil… everything will be restored to Edenic perfection.

So… now we have to find our backbone… because ACNs think they have Donald Trump in their pocket… and THEY DO… because his power 100% depends on the ACN belief that he will ALWAYS act in their interest. It’s no secret they believe Trump is literally an instrument of their triune deity.

Seriously… this is our moment of truth. Do we let Mr. Trump and ACNs burn the world to the ground with superstitious fantasies of good/evil escalating to a global scorched-Earth conflagration…? Or do we return to secular governance with religion and politics conducted in separate cathedrals?

I know where i stand… and i confess getting a bit overzealous in my private conversations… hence this inadequate attempt to explain. Nevertheless, i will continue to channel the Beautiful Angry Noise… but at the same time, i want to reaffirm support of constitutionally guaranteed religious freedom. And finally… with all of that said, can we, PLEASE, also honor our responsibilities? In a world of diverse experience and worldview, we know that freedom is NOT unlimited. Specifically, personal or institutional religious freedom is not equal to that entity’s liberty to cram it down anyone else’s throat. Satanists, Zoroastrians, Stalinists, Muslims, Hindus, Scientologists, Mormons, as well as Evangelical Christians, etc. are free to keep their personal spiritual practice within the privacy of their own homes/cathedrals. If they’ll agree to do that… i will agree to engage our practical differences in the open forum of Democratic Pluralism.

Long live the Beautiful American Stew…!
Long live the separation of Church and State…!
Long live the Beautiful Angry Noise!

What is a “resource based economy?”
How can we survive Humanity’s “Technological Adolescence?”