Categories
Aesthetics Culture

Day 1881 and Attemplate

I’ve wandered far from the traditional life paths that might have recognizable to past generations of my kin.

It scares me. Any time I contemplate the change I have already experienced, I imagine how much more change I can expect to see.

How are we supposed to raise children, mentor young leaders or align artificial intelligence with the good, the true and the beautiful when we adult humans have experienced life so far from past ideals?

So I’ve been toying with a portmanteau blending attempt and template to express the idea of “an experimental framework” or “proto-template for living, learning, or skill-building.” I need templates to help me attempt to adapt while retaining my humanity.

We will all be re-skilling, re-learning, and re-engaging with our values and as I try to structure templates that help me walk a life and prototype styles that might work for myself and others.

I hoped to communicate both clarity and flexibility with the choice. We are building good ways of being in a world of rapid change. Templates must change and we must always be attempting to learn and adapt.

I liked that attemplate sounds like a natural word you felt like you may have already encountered. It does a nice job of mirroring the thoughtfulness of contemplate. A template for a new era which will be attempt to build, even if the foundations we thought were firm in the past give way to much broader ways of being.

I played with “attempate” which sounds procedural (almost bureaucratic) as if one would take a sheet of paper with an assigned attempate to fill out and live. Why yes, I took the project management attempate sheet to see if I had natural aptitude for detail work.

Temptlate” sounded engineered. Maybe it would be suitable name for an internal tool or concept document. We will add that to the family Temptlate and see who bites on it for Saturday plans. It’s cute, playful and almost experimental, but not entirely as serious as the scaffolding one hopes to build upstairs n.

Maybe I’m the only one who feels like I lost decade between Trump Derangement Era through Pandemic Biden Gramsci End of March Institutional Capture.

What I thought was true slammed into things I wished were not. And then we fought years of anarcho-tyranny as the state refused to budge even if you attempted to follow its templates.

So here I am trying to find new ways of being for myself, for the future, and for my present. Maybe it’s entirely selfish. Templates for how to live are the anchors from which we used to build religion and power.

We’ve stripped much of the meat from life and turned past ideals into brands and merchandised them into outfits and starter packs. But it’s worth an attempt don’t you think?

Categories
Preparedness Travel

Day 1879 and Costco versus Cartels vs The State

I have more than one founder in my portfolio who has struggled with basing their businesses in America because U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services is barely functional. My own family has been affected on the personal front.

I’m proud America is so desirable a destination. But we can’t be such a dysfunctional one. That makes me feel shamed. I want us to bring the best and brightest here to build.

I’ve never felt such patriotism as we begin to invest in industry and energy again. The America that makes it to its 250th birthday is at another turning point. When hasn’t she been?

My phone showed me memories of the last big birthday trip we took with my father for his 80th. He passed this year. Smiling photos of my brother and I and our spouses with my father a little bemused but happy to be in Puerto Vallarta.

It was cheap boomer luxury provided by a Costco vacation plan. Today the Costco in Puerto Vallarta is on fire. Cartel infighting they say. That detente is done

The last time I saw a Costco on fire my hometown lost a third of its housing stock in a freak prairie fire. In a sick twist of fate those homes housed scientists who did work on weather stations and forecasting work for NIST, NCAR and NOAA.

One of my friends owns an Airstream which they use to go from job to job. They park it in front of their home. A elderly neighbor called in a complaint.

Despite many destitute disorderly trailers and tents on sidewalks, now my friend is the one to get ticked and towed from his own parking spot. A simple ordinance broke and now it’s a fight with the city.

Rentals sit in an uneasy tension with elderly populations sitting housing wealth. They rent their second homes whose property taxes haven’t been reappraised for decades to those of us who might appreciate an opportunity to arbitrage one home’s desirable location for ski season for a break in the winter.

Freedom to transact with one’s own property in an era where property tilts to the elderly feels uncertain. The struggling homeless can’t be moved, but the legal tenant can’t park his van in front of his own home. In Airbnbs they don’t want you to stay more than 14 days. I guess that’s when you get squatters.

I want our institutions to function. I want a viable state capable of doing the business of its citizens. Instead it’s renter classes and public employee unions and right outside (and inside too) our borders we see corporations, crime syndicates and subsidies for the thee and not me for me. Normalcy bias until the Costco is on fire. And then we forget all over again.

Categories
Travel

Day 1870 and Cutting Down On Packing Time

I am a very thorough, well honed and time tested, and Karen hardened packing methodology.

I have a little bit of childhood anxiety around packing for having moved around a lot that has alas never left me. Many people having anxiety about flying so at least it is a bit relatable but I don’t know if packing anxiety is as common.

For me it’s not about being in the air but rather leaving behind an established base for parts unknown. Will I be able to find medicine for issue that arise or soap that won’t trigger eczema? What if I need to appear at an event requiring a dress & makeup? What if I need to walk for two miles with all those things?

Every time I pack I go through the same routine and I use the same bags with the same labeling system to manage all the permutations I might encounter. And it is a science.

I have a small pajama bag I carry in my backpack in case of an unexpected overnight or long delay. I carry small clear vanity case to clean & groom myself with full allergy protocols that passes even the crankiest Heathrow checkpoint. I am prepared.

I carry on my person a a small pill bag with every detail labeled that can handled medical incidents big and small along with my first responder certificate. If you have an issue on an airplane you want to be seated next to me.

From there in my carry on suitcase I label the packing cubes with every item I bring, from underwear to wrap dress and ballet flats. Everything that is packed in my larger Tumi that gets checked is also labeled and I place an itinerary on top as I find my bags opened more frequently than seems reasonable.

There are no questions from the TSA or the most belligerent customs agent that won’t be immediately cleared up with minor inspection. Now with artificial intelligence I can translate my labels on the fly into any language.

Despite this clarity and organization, I admit I’ve had a few amusing incidents. Once through Heathrow I unsettled a British Airways agent with my fiber and protein powder baggies. Because clearly middle aged woman would smuggle in a quart sized baggie of cocaine in her purse.

I really wish with all the travel I do and my very strict system that this would all somehow take a little bit less time than it does. I generally allow myself two days to pack as I like to check and double check as it’s an iron law that things will be forgotten. And Montana is remote enough that if I forget a fancy serum or a favored sweater I won’t get a replacement easily. We only just got a Sephora this year.

I am however headed for a large American city that has absolutely everything I could possibly want in short order. So as I leave behind a European home base where I do keep things on hand (I didn’t always but extended family has been kind to me) I feel much less pressure this time. And still somehow I will allow myself to let it take more time than I’d prefer.

Categories
Culture Travel

Day 1869 and Dumb Knuckleheads Driving Poorly

I’m surely not even the millionth person to make note of this phenomena, but drivers are getting worse and it’s very much the sorts of drivers you’d expect to be the culprits.

Let me tell you a humorous story about getting sideswiped not once but twice in less than week by ditzy women driving bottom of the barrel vehicles. Meanwhile I was in a decent sized higher end SUV which very much helped. Imagine the culprits driving a Golf or a Peugeot.

Now to preserve some privacy for all involved this did not happen in America but in Europe and the timing is being buffered. To protect the not at all innocent.

The first instance was (and I swear I’m not making this up) while I was helping a family member with the equivalent of a trip to the department of motor vehicles.

Turning into a parking space in their lot, a middle aged woman (who was not paying attention) backed out and scraped two feet down the right side of the vehicle. She stopped and gave the impression of us waiting to park. As soon as we settled she immediately scattered. So much for her stopping.

Fortunately a worker at the bureau saw it and knew that the driver was employed there which made sorting it feasible. She gave over her insurance and the paint easily buffed out the scratch. She didn’t act at all embarrassed for having clearly been caught.

Then forty eight hours later another near miss by a ditzy Zoomer got us. We were making a slow left turn to merge into a larger road. We’d already crossed the yellow line with just half the front of the car into the new lane. As one does when politely coming into a left turn.

Just as we began to accelerate into the lane having slowed traffic in then opposite lane, a cheap car continued barreling 20 over the speed limit without so much as an attempt to slow to let us finish the turn.

She clipped onto our bumper and tore into her own driver side door. It was not a pretty Boise. She attempted to keep going as every other witness on the city road tried to get her attention to stop her.

Finally some fifty feet later dhe slowed down once she realized she took damage and everyone was snapping pictures. We were able to call the police and exchange information.

In a final act of sneakiness, she tried to call a policeman that was in her family to plead her case. Him being nearby maybe she was thinking he’d help her out. Amusingly this backfired against her as it was pretty clear she was at fault and she accepted responsibility. She’d done more damage to her car than to ours.

It’s little wonder everyone is on edge about being on city roads as irresponsible drivers seem to be absolutely everywhere and rules of the road are mere suggestion. Don’t be a knucklehead is the moral of the story.

Categories
Internet Culture Preparedness

Day 1868 and Educating An An Entire Species or Start With Your Family

A viral essay was posted a few days ago by a Matt Schumer meant to help introduce the current state of artificial intelligence tools to people who do not work in technology.

It’s a very compelling piece of writing (or maybe it’s just reading), which I believe is well received by normal people especially older family members or technical skeptics. They are often the hardest to reach because of age and experience gaps and a smooth essay goes down well.

The author is the founder of HyperWrite. His company offers a suite of AI writing and research tools. So yes, his excellent writing and wide reach (over 40 million views so far) were achieved thanks his fluent use of AI for both writing and promotion.

The end result of using tools is an excellent essay distributed far and wide. Or if you prefer, the end product was a tool shaped object which gave people a sense of understanding. That’s valuable.

Don’t let his usage of AI in producing this writing and publishing stop you from taking his points seriously. In fact, it should encourage you to read it and consider if you want to share it.

You too will soon be competing in a world where regular people like Matt are capable of super human feats. Perhaps you’d like the same leverage for yourself and your family.

All of us can learn to work with the amplifying effects of networks and artificial intelligence algorithms with practice and usage. Allowing us global reach and potentially maximizing the potential of our insights and points of view. That should make us feel better about where we are headed and not worse.

I feel it is useful to share the essay with your skeptical family and friends who are either scared, confused, angry or indifferent about the rapid changes because it is the current reality we all live in.

I know it’s hard as a middle aged professional to learn new tricks. I’m in the middle of it too. But we have to educate all of us and it’s going to take some time. I’d rather we get started on it. And on that note my lunch break from Montana’s digital innovation committee is only an hour so I’ll get back to it.

Categories
Politics

Day 1867 and Rage Against What Exactly

I feel a struggle to continue this writing experiment. I feel a struggle to continue on at all in a public fashion online as the world is refolded and restructured around us.

I am just so tired and I fear an early death as the life and treasure of my generation is squandered on the perpetuation of systems that no longer work. I was texting with my mother about her husband’s third knee surgery (ain’t Medicare great) as enormous protest raged outside my window. I am in the capital of a European nation where this is quite common.

This is the third large demonstration in the space of three weeks for an opposition party that is mostly made up of technocratic stooges trying to hide the sins of wars no one remembers except those who deployed in them. I happen to know people who did deploy in them or I certainly wouldn’t know that the opposition is made up of the siblings, children and social circle of a former dictator.

Every time they protest the roads are blocked and then it gets out of hand. Water canons are set on the fires the protestors set and then tear gas is thrown out and no one can get through the city center. I assume this is some flavor of controlled opposition as America and the EU both support the existing government.

This time there were drones above the entire affair and much of the rally seemed to be music that was a mix of Catholic liturgy and electronic dance music. A famous priest DJ performed in the city over the weekend so maybe it was him. Who knows.

Nothing is weirder than hearing O Fortuna played over riot dispersal water cannons. We don’t have that kind of cinematic drama in American protests. Honestly everyone here seems sick of it. Most of all the hotel staff and the diplomats that live in it.

I watched it unfold from a vestibule with a Ukrainian woman who said she hoped I’d stay safe. I told her I wasn’t worried as I’ve seen this before.

She was understandably more concerned than I was being a refuge in a country that no one would have thought would be more stable than Ukraine a generation ago. Socialists holding off nationalists is not a terribly equilibrium if you can afford it. America can’t but it seems plenty of Europe still can.

Categories
Chronic Disease

Day 1863 and Head Above Water

Yesterday I wrote that I had no gas in the tank. Today is not much better. I am barely keeping my head above the proverbial water line. I finished a major purchase which I thought would give me respite for a few days.

Alas changes in destination, an emergency dental appointment for a family member, and the promise of rest was more like a promise of fretful semi-consciousness.

After days of rushing around seem to have swept me off my feet and into bed I still am not quite rested.

I thought I was mended yesterday but it seems as if I’m on the second day of exaggerated sleeping patterns with long arcs of sleep in the wrong places and times. Add in a bit of overheating on top of it and something feels off.

It’s not unusual for me to absorb major changes and shifts throughout their unfolding via some migraine induced osmotic pressure. I feel the animal spirits and global vibes push in past my physical limits and I shut down. I hope I’ll reboot soon.

Categories
Internet Culture Travel

Day 1860 and Some Technical Difficulties On The ISP Side Perhaps

I’m not anywhere particularly unusual (a European capital) but all of my end to end encryption applications, most crucially Signal and Twitter are not working.

Nothing will send and I’m not receiving messages now either. Why? Well, I’ve got conspiracy theories but I doubt it’s sinister and I’ll boot up a VPN in the meantime if it persists.

I am nearby several embassies (of the regions you might expect to be dicey including my own) and just uphill of city’s international school so maybe one of them is being a dick.

Or perhaps the Airbnb I am using has an ISP provider that is throttling end to end encryption for some reason. For what reason I couldn’t fathom but I am annoyed. YouTube is streaming in full glory on an enormous television but I can’t text in peace to my loved ones.

So this blog post will have to serve a test post to let folks know that I am fine and anyone who needs to know where I am does which is to be fair a pretty darn small list. I’ll move if the issue persists. I’m a mere 7 kilometers away from the center of the city where the internet was working fine earlier today so I’ve got no idea why I’m having issues now. If I’d known I’d have done my writing earlier. A part of me wonders and worries about what might eventually stop my writing experiment being a communication blackout. Though I never thought I’d have a problem in Europe. That is the stuff of authoritarians right?

I have got unpleasant notions about why a European city and its nearby embassies wouldn’t wish to let people communicate freely and privately on websites with end to end encryption. It’s just amusing they are happy to let me watch Netflix and Youtube. The New York Times has no problem getting through nor my other media applications on my phone.

Having been behind America’s first freedom to compute act, I suppose I’ll let my emotions run a bit wild here as a treat. It seems especially concerning that this sort of informational throttle by big European ISPs seems possible and even likely. That embassies might want to extend a little protection beyond their very high walls seems even more probable. Which is not very nice of them.

It makes my mind go straight to propaganda campaigns and not technical difficulties. In this day and age, we should never take for granted our right to express ourselves via compute freely and privately. Stay frosty and I hope this post makes it to you.

Categories
Emotional Work Media

Day 1859 and Crime Without Punishment

People tell stories of where they were or what they were doing when major world events happened. Most of them are silly and personal but necessary to ground the horrors of being connected at scale while still being such small bit players in the scale of things.

On 9/12 I had just left New York City to return home to Colorado to finish out the high school I’d dropped out of the year prior. My grandmother called me at dawn before I’d left for the annual start of school camping trip, distraught that we couldn’t reach cousins and other family who were first responders or worked downtown. Then we couldn’t get through for hours.

When Lady Diana was killed I was up early for a sports competition preparing my gear when the news broke. My mother and I watched in shock at 4 in the morning as we packed bags.

When Michael Jackson died I was in Miami on my first solo vacation between jobs having sublet a condo for two weeks while I sublet my New York apartment. The grocery clerk at Publix ringing me up asked if I had heard. I attempted to explain that I’d seen it on something called Twitter.

When Jeffrey Epstein didn’t kill himself I was in the hospital. I had been entirely off social media but still listened to the five minute radio news update. I don’t know why but I told my doctor that he was dead and her immediate response was to swear. I recall us both being upset as she shook her head saying “now he will never face justice.”

The entire weekend was a deluge of people processing, concocting, and turning over the “flood the zone with shit” dump of files on Epstein. As if the Friday night “take out the trash” media playbook somehow still held sway over a population of networked humans.

Now we are a species who remember every Harry and tragedy both personally in the context of our own small lives and at large as it emerges into a wider understanding shaped by the contours of those who seek to distract or draw attention.

It’s no wonder we spellbound by conspiracies. I lived across from ground zero for years. Tourists grieved and paid homage next to soap box schizophrenia weaving tales. I grew up on forums dissecting every aspect of death and tragedy from princesses to the King of Pop. Why should the coverage of depraved sins be any different?

So I ask myself why should I believe any of it. Who should I give information dumps and theory threads and newspaper headlines any attention at all? I’ll never know if crimes were punished. Justice works slowly and sometimes not at all.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 1853 and American Boomer Betrayal

I wish I could shake some of the grief that has gripped me over the past few months. I grieve the revelation of human truths I wish I did not know. And underneath the grief, I feel betrayed.

I feel betrayed by my elders, my country, its institutions and the power structures that have bounded my life and its path. It feels dramatic when I write it down but I know it to be true.

I have kept a lid on these simmering feelings because I am too afraid to unearth more truth that has the potential to rewrite my life and the internal (and external) perceptions of who I believe myself to be. And yet it is only change that has the power to overcome the entropy that destroys life. And that includes mine.

My feelings of betrayal seem too too ugly to look at and shake any sense of security or belonging that I might once have had. Which was in precious little supply already.

I don’t wish to be histrionic about it, but I am not the only American millennial who feels this way. I know many American Zoomers feel it more deeply than I do.

And there is plenty of evidence to support these feelings, which makes it all the worse. Feelings are not facts but there are facts beneath these emotions that are hard look at.

I don’t know why I cannot seem to unearth or articulate enough of my emotions to help me let go. I feel I have forgiven so much and it hasn’t been enough to change things. They say that betrayal creates a “double wound” as there is the act itself, and then the shattering of our belief in the fidelity and values that had scaffolded our lives.

I don’t want to look at the grief and betrayal straight on for reasons I hope I can slowly reveal to myself and others. Whatever protection it offers my ego and inner child must have some value but keeping things hidden is not helping me

I going to try to articulate these feelings, even if I am afraid of putting such enormous vulnerability out for scrutiny. I’ve done it before and it has only ever helped so I must find some courage to go further.

It’s not that I think anyone reads, or even notices what I say here, but rather once something is written into our public networks it stays. There is a reason “the word” has had such resonance for creation in faith. By writing it into a record I will create something that is real and will have consequences.

The relief I felt at the passing of my father at the end of last summer embarrassed me at first. I wanted to feel sadness, loss, love, and absence but all I could see was relief that he was gone.

I wished for more change and endings before the hungers of the past’s needs would eat more of my present. And I knew it would not come unless I made it so. Saturn devours his son. The son must slay his father.

I loved my father so deeply that I shaped my whole early life around impressing him in the hopes that he would find reason to be more present.

No achievement or milestone was ever enough to change his orientation and availability to me. Still I forgave him. He gave me so much. At the end I do not know (and must contend with not ever knowing) if he forgave himself.

This personal tragedy has anchored my feelings on the generation above mine and how they have conducted themselves in the management of America and all of its institutions.

The trust and fidelity has been broken. From education and health to politics, cultural and monetary systems the harms have compounded and the healing is slow. Family forgive but society needs scapegoats. And that makes me fearful.

The only systems that I feel has not actively betrayed me remain market capitalism and the edifice of our informational technologies. Ironically there are huge swathes of my generation who feel those are the systems that have harmed them the most.

I do not believe that free association and information are harmful. Indeed I see them as entirely beneficial even when there are obviously individual harms that the abstractions do not reveal so easily.

Some believe humans were simply not meant to live at a scale that showed us a world beyond our roots. How can we remain true to any values when all ruptured and greed, disgust, treachery and disloyalty is laid so bare and in such a brazen manner? To err is human and seeing our sins at such scale is a grievous harm we must overcome.

I myself am unsure if paradise lost to wider wisdom is only harm. We eat the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and now see sin. But we also reveal the sustenance of divine love and redemption. Malus is not the same as malum.

Perhaps it is precisely because it is the wider world that has nurtured me even as family, elders, and institutions have ravaged the basics of life that I can see this horrifying but beautiful whole.

For millennia we have grounded the rituals and meaning of human life at a smaller scale with fewer hidden truths. Now it is laid bare to us all.

I am a citizen of the world with wealth but not health. I have built a beautiful family and marriage but likely will have no children. I have an incredible community of friends but we are scattered to the winds.

The personal middle ground of my life doesn’t exist because of the hunger of a generation and a nation that cared more about themselves and their reach and power than the future that would obviously arrive.

As younger generations wait to take the reins of their future, it threatens to never arrive. The grip of the past refuses to let go. And I wish to pry open that grip so we may try and do better.

They did the best that they could. And it hurts so much that it was not enough. The fear remains our efforts won’t be either.