Progress of Civilization

I’ve been reading about an ancient village site in the near east that archaeologists have determined to have been inhabited by a people practicing plant cultivation, pottery and other technologies 2000 years before what generally has been thought to be the beginnings of the agricultural revolution, which, I guess, disrupts the linear timeline science prefers to view as the progression of civilization.
The finding suggests that some pre-historic groups chose the more sedentary lifestyle provided by agriculture while others opted for the less work intensive life of the hunter gatherer: that is domestication of plants and animals was not necessarily found to be the preferred choice of all people of time and place.
The choice may have been about preferring egalitarianism to a developing hierarchy based on material accumulation. Maybe these forward thinkers might have seen how illness and death spread amongst sedentary populations exacerbated further by diseases caused by close contact with domesticated animals.
In retrospect, in view of the ecological impact material accumulation has imposed upon us now, a simpler lifestyle was a good choice. Comfort and security, of course will always win out in the end.

Cultural Irrelevance

I almost went to the Barbie movie. So much hype seemed to promise a bit of satire, adult content, but, in the end the more likely probability of saccharine overload dissuaded me.


Which has me realizing how far out of pop cultural awareness I’ve fallen. I find popular music genres often abrasive, non-musical and generally beyond my comprehension and what passes for comedy these days is lacking in humor and rude.


Contemporary visual art, the cultural expression I’m most able to relate to I find incomprehensible at times. I find myself wondering what motivates these young artists, what their message may be. So, I’ll continue to do what suits me aware I am nowhere near the Avant guarde. I’ll trust the energy exhausted these days might arrive at useful insights about our shared experiences and not be just about hype.

A Trip to the Hospital

My fishing partner has developed an infection from a mishap that occurred a few days before our trip north. Discomfort has progressed to the point of requiring medical attention. A journey to the nearest hospital in the heart of the First Nation reservation an hour’s drive north is necessary; the facility is seriously understaffed and extremely busy, waiting room overflowing, patient rooms full, gurneys in the hallways.

Hours pass before attention is received, diagnosis critical, IV antibiotic determined necessary. Additional treatments recommended means two additional trips from fish camp to hospital.

The week ends, we proceed south aware how tenuous existence may be on the edge of civilization.

The Sport Fishing Culture

I’m spending a week at a resort in northern Canada, a fishing camp catering to hard-core fishermen and women.

I watch as these singular-minded folks pull into the resort in their 3/4-ton four door Dodge Rams or the like pulling boats powered by 100 horsepower Suzuki outboards complete with swivel seats, windshields, depth gages, sonar fish-finders and mounted trolling motors. Big people mostly gathering around their cabins at days end, deep-frying their batter-coated fillets of Walleye on their propane deep-fryers, standing around in groups of six or so, beer in hand, watching their meal cook, talking of the days catch, I’m guessing.

I walk out the door of our cabin, they look at me, at my scratched up, dented 14-foot rental boat with the nine-horse Evenrude, ask how I did, “catch much?”; (better have a convincing answer to avoid the inevitable smirks, I’m thinking), “got a nice Walleye”, I lie.

I’m feeling pretty out of place here; I dream of spending time on one of the beautiful islands in one of these enormous lakes, enjoying a relaxing picnic away from the wave tossed boat and the competitive atmosphere of the camp.

Cape Breton (September)

An After-Life

i’ve been thinking lately about how one might imagine an after-life. Thinking about the idea of limbo is one possibility for some. Christianity as limbo as a place of waiting, a temporary stop-over that the unbaptized deceased will occupy for long time, maybe eternity. Inhabiting such a place would likely bring on chronic ennui seeing as there is little to no chance of travel options.

There are, of course, worse destinations; purgatory for one. On the upside one may escape purgatory but penance is demanded, a bit of suffering in payment for past sins required, but if one convincingly atones for past wrongs upward movement can occur and heaven may await. But any hint of lack of sincerity may result in eternal Hell.

Eternity seems to be the serious qualifier in these end-of-life scenarios and must certainly give pause to those entertaining thoughts of what happens next, whether or not certain preparations should be considered.

Prelude to the American Revolution

I’ve been reading that the political situation in America before the revolution was pretty chaotic. Over the previous 200 years (before the revolution) the population of indigenous people native to the eastern parts of the continent had grown knowledgeable of the immigrant culture, acquired the English language and European bargaining savvy. By consolidating various tribal groups in the common interest of securing their indigenous lands Native Americans fought back against the new settlers.

At the same time the various colonies established by the immigrant Europeans had disparate economic concerns, had trouble in presenting any sort of united front in opposition to the taxes and restrictions imposed by the imperialist English. The colonists’ ire manifested itself in attacks against their British overlords, destroying property and generally raising havoc.

The British found the slave trade quite lucrative, kidnapping thousands of native Africans from off their tribal lands to work southern plantations and to sell for household slaves. In some parts of the American south, the black population came to nearly equaling the white colonists in numbers. Enslaved Africans, like their native American counterparts readily adapted to the white culture and although suffering devastating reprisals rose in opposition to their enslavement adding further instability to colonial life.

At the same time wealthy colonists sought to acquire lands for themselves west of the Appalachian Mountains, a land-grab that pitted the colonists against the King’s Royal ownership of all American lands and further upsetting the indigenous population who knew for certain who’s land it was.

I guess we all know who the winners and losers were in these early power struggles. 250 years later, with guilty consciences, talking reparations for injustices perpetrated, we’ve hopefully come to realize the actions of the new immigrants of the time were less then purely heroic.

With Lego People

Playing Nice with Others

I’ve become aware, lately, that my verbal offerings, comments and responses, while visiting with others in small gatherings of family and friends, elicit responses I had no intention of eliciting; it appears that what I say is often interpreted in vastly different ways than intended. And this, even though I’m careful these days to withhold or at least moderate strong personal opinions.

When I was younger, I held small regard for countering someone’s opinion, relished, in fact, the opposition. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I hold back these days. But now It would appear that sometimes concessions are expected, admission of guilt, a desire for me to reveal my inadequacies, personal weaknesses: concessions I’m not willing to give. The whole idea of such a scenario I find extremely winceable, beyond my capacity to the point of exasperation.

If one is to maintain a sense of pride in achievement, a sense of worth, restraint must be exercised, emotions withheld; an acceptance of the potential volatility of personal relationships, a willingness to let go.
It all becomes exitential in the end, I guess.

With Lego People

The Theory of Everything

I guess no one really understands who or what we are. Researchers continue to find new infinitesimal entities, described as particles and/or waves that are the sub-atomic components of our material makeup. Well, ‘find’ is maybe the wrong word since these entities can’t be seen but only sensed by their movements. These entities existing within the primary forces of nature, electro-magnetism, weak/strong forces and gravity are the elusive quarks, bosons and leptons that complicate physical understanding. Physicists continue to seek mathematical structures that explain how everything fits together, to find a ‘grand unification theory’ but as new entities of enigmatic forms and behaviors are found the developing picture blurs.

Some prescient thinkers of the past warned of the travails of seeking a final answer, notably the philosopher E. Kant, in the 18th century no less, warned of pursuing that which is not adapted to our powers of cognition.

It would appear there are things we just can’t know.

Human Nature

I’ve been reading that in France in the mid-20th century various fringe groups instigated massive protests against the government, building barricades across streets in Paris and causing as much mayhem as they could muster, which was considerable, energy being particularly high when an injustice is believed to have been committed against the people.

Although the demands of the anarchists weren’t well articulated it appears the rub essentially was about class struggles; a class-less communism seeming to be the desired end; freedom to be equals through re-distribution of resources. The result of all the chaos turned out to be a ruthless police crack-down and excessive prison sentences where abominable conditions led many inmates to suicide, which led to more protests and civil unrest.

It all seems too familiar: the tendency to perpetrate violence. Even all-out anarchy appears hidden beneath mankind’s benign exterior. Human nature seeks opposition; someone or something to cast as enemy, the cause of their difficulties, emotions rise, factions unite, shouting occurs, and all Hell breaks loose: another revolution of sorts happens.

The human psyche being what it is I sometimes wonder how periods of peace happen at all.

Freeing the Mind

As my thoughts drift through the gray mists of partially realized ideas my mind is invaded by abstract anxieties, remorsefulness for past inadequacies, inferior efforts. But such thoughts dissipate, evaporate, then segue into an ethereal cloud mind wandering through multitudes of what might have been, should maybe be, may yet occur. Thoughts free without direction, small intention, wandering mind. Perhaps a good idea will occur.