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=[[2020.11.13 - United States of Assholes]]=
=[[2021.05.07 Living In America - Part Huh]]=
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The deep and profound relief at the (eventual) election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris is thankfully still salving the past four years of horrorEmotional, philosophical, spiritual, pragmatic utilitarian horrorBut the gestalt horror is not forgottenAnd, worse, the visceral terror of the implications of the numbers of the election cannot be un-discovered.
http://www.kvankii.com/gallery/Brain-jar.jpg
 
[ramble=ON]<br>
[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Welcome_to_Wherever_You_Are Welcome to Wherever You Are] was a timely INXS album for me, as it marked my first fully-away-from-home life while going to university.  It's distinctive not-grunge sound is the soundtrack of my memories that I formed discovering Victoria.  Whenever I hear those songs I recall the sense of recognition of all the things that were fundamentally different about living in the island mini-metropolis from the remote mountain village I came fromEven long after the new environs became familiar and generally unsurprising, it helped me remember that there are still assumptions lingering in my existence that are not actually aligned with where I was.
 
I should re-listen to that album, after yesterday's reminder that I'm not in Canada any more.<br>
[ramble=OFF]
 
Just after noon yesterday, I was on a work call in my 4th-floor condo in semi-urban North Portland with my kids doing distance learningA small Black Lives Matter march with about 40 participants made a clatter as they went by on the street belowIt was frankly charming, with drums and singing, and I like that Portland is active in this way.
 
Then a commotion happened, and I missed the kernel of the event.


People looking at the title of this post might be triggered, classifying this as just more of Clayton's typical pro-Canada elitism finding an opportunity to gloatAnd it's a fair comment.  But the United States really is magnificent, and Portland in particular is full of all kinds of awesomeI've been here for almost 2 decades now, and have a lot of important roots, and that deepens how significant what goes on in the US is to me.
When I looked outside, there was a red minivan in the middle of the crowdIt was almost stopped when I noticed it, the tires I could see were flat, the drivers window was smashed, and the driver looked to be in distressBut, honestly, what really caught my attention were the handful of people with what appeared to be AR-15 assault rifles pointed at the van - one obstinately standing in front of it with his rifle trained on the driver.


With that in mind, the fact that about 70 million people voted for Donald Trump in 2020 is... sad.
Confused yelling ensued, while at least one small person I could see was getting medical aid from somebody with a medical kit on the sidewalk. Tensions ran high, but nothing more dramatic happened. People from the march started bringing bottles of water to the driver, who used them to rinse off his face - presumably he got a heft dose of pepper spray in the eyes. Other marchers started re-directing traffic away from the scene, to alleviate the instant traffic jam.


Even acknowledging the extreme polarization, it still means that almost twice the population of Canada worth of people were willing to at least "put up with" a fascist racist lying failure of a presidentAnd why would they do this?  Well, last month I speculated that it functionally makes them bad people - but virtually nobody does anything with the specific intent to be bad people (Mitch McConnell excepted).
Eventually, the armed marchers slung their rifles, and other people led the van driver to sit at a nearby bus stop to recoverThey brought him more water to rinse his eyes, and I noticed that a few other people were rinsing their eyes as well - suggesting that the cloud of pepper spray had drifted about somewhat.  After a few minutes, the driver got back in his minivan and drove it slowly away on 4 flat tires, and the rest of the march evaporated.


I think the reason comes down to how the US is systemically structured to facilitate assholes.
Some time to process it has let me consider a few things.


It has gotten better over the centuries, but fundamentally it's still about harnessing the power of assholesIt's not that everyone in the US is an asshole, or that only assholes thrive. It's more that being an asshole is a distinct advantage in most aspects of living in the US.  And even further, the pitting of people's stoked avarice against each other allows for considerable achievements.  It just so happens that those achievements are usually at considerable human expense.  This every-asshole-for-themself individualism was key for expanding through a wild continentBut it is now very much out of step for the interests of living with ourselves in civilization.
When I saw the rifles, I got off my work call to be able to call 911But I paused, considering, "Do I really want to call the police on a bunch of black people?" It's a horrifying thing that this is a legitimate concern.  It makes me wish there was a non-police "people who can help" emergency numberI should spin this thought into a separate Rant™.


The divide politically is most obviously displayed with the geographical results - urban versus rural.  Many of the conservative people I know all have worries about reality where the only solution they can conceive of is raw independent self-sufficiencyEven when I snarkily suggest adjusting shared societal factors to eradicate the selfsame problemsWhich they insist are impossible - because there are too many assholesWhich, inevitably, means that they have to pre-asshole to out-asshole the hypothetical assholes.   
I still have no idea whether this was a deliberate vehicular assault by the late-middle-aged white male in shabby clothes and crappy minivan, or an oblivious driving error while turning through an intersectionHowever, I'm simultaneously impressed and mortified at how clearly ready to respond to exactly such an assault the mark participants wereThe rifles were over-the-top in my opinion, but it's hard to argue against desire to counter the deadliness of a vehicle driving through a crowdBut the slashing of the tires, the smashing of the driver's window, and pepper spraying the driver all happened in a way that seems like a prepared reaction.  If the driver merely blundered into that crowd, I confess that getting pepper sprayed and some mild damage to his vehicle seems like not the worst repercussionIf the driver drove through those people intentionally - fuck that guy; I hope he goes blind.


The trouble with assholes, aside from the inherent assholery, is the tendency to assume that everyone else is an asshole tooPerhaps more than just a tendency for some, but a full blown paranoia that the world is stuffed full of dicks out to fuck the unwaryThis causes them to forgive all sorts of crazy shit for the purpose of supporting political forces they think will be the right kind of assholery.
Co-morbid with both my reluctance to call the police and my disdain of the weapons present is yet another demonstration of my deeply ingrained privilegeIn that: when I saw people with assault rifles on the street in front of me, I didn't think "DUCK".  I just hung out on my balcony, gawking.  Completely assured that I was not a target, or at riskIt's probably good that I can exist like this, but maybe it shouldn't be an exceptional thing.
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=[[2020.10.31 Gun Saftey]]=
=[[2021.04.20 Slayer Slayed]]=
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I like guns. They're fun, and cool.
http://www.kvankii.com/gallery/IMG_3620.jpeg


As a rational person, I think that guns should be regulated and controlled at least as well as motor vehicles.  As a civilized person, I think the idea of civilians being able to carry around assault-class weapons and handguns ridiculous.  As a person living in the US, I take advantage of the idiotically lax gun laws to occasionally go to gun ranges and borrow guns to do some shooting.
Yeah, I sold the Slayer.


There are a large population of people here, friends and family of mine even, who keep guns at home "for protection"It's... a bit baffling.
Logically, it made a lot of sense - in several ways. 
# First of all, the Slayer as an enduro sled has pretty much the same utility envelope as the Commençal META Power.  Except, you know, every so slightly less awesome.  So the Slayer was likely just going to sit in my bike closet being sad and pathetic.
# This also happens to be a magical time for bike valueI got 50% more for it than I would have guessed in a normal year, and it sold in just one day. In retrospect, I should have asked for more.
# Plus there is the very real fact that after 4 years of solid use, it would soon be time to dump a bunch of money into the Slayer to keep it up to snuff.


While I can appreciate that plain old statistics are generally un-persuasive, even when they overwhelmingly demonstrate that a person is wildly more likely to be injured by a gun if they or someone they live with has a gun, I'm still at a loss for their imagined scenarioIt must be some sort of western or action movie bullshit that lives in all their brains.  Either that, or a wildly exaggerated sense of the existence of "bad guys".
That being said, I was very sad to sell itFor the usual reasons - that I feel genuine attachment to mechanical things that have helped me, and saved me occasionally, and generally enabled a bunch of great memories.


Are they really going to murder someone over some stuff? Is that really the plan?  How is "nope the fuck out" not the default plan already, along with "call the police" (for my mostly white friends).
I fully plan on getting another bike, to round out where my Enduro Monster Truck is less well-suited. Probably to enable bike-commuting, but hopefully also for riding less-technical trails.  We'll see.
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The hypothetical home invaders are much more likely to be simply dissuaded by a loud phone call, and a gun being brought into play is just an escalation into a gunfight - which is much less likely if they're not being shot at.
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Some of the most likely home invaders are police fucking up a search warrant, and if you get a shot off at them they are going to straight up murder your whole family by unloading into the houseHell, a huge part of why US police are so trigger-happy is because so many motherfuckers have got gunsIf guns were actually hard to come by, lethal force wouldn't be haunting the forefront of every cop's nervous little fascist brain.
=[[2021.04.03 Bikes and Vans and Stuff]]=
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As is standard for the past year, I'm not spending much time writing.  Which isn't because there isn't anything happening, but rather because there's too much happening.  Or, really, a combination of a lot of things happening, and my overwhelming state of satisfied happiness.  Which makes for odd and boring blog entries.
 
BUT!  There's still a couple things to mention, as a matter of record here.
 
===1: I broke the Kei Van===
It had problems on a return drive from Sandy Ridge in a downpour, then wouldn't start again after we stopped at the Gnarthaller'sSubsequent inspection showed it was dangerously low on oil (facepalm), even though the oil light never came on.  Will be working on resurrecting it soon.<br>
UPDATE: VANTACULUS LIVES!!!  Thanks to help and support from @gnarthaller.
 
===2: E-Biking is almost too much fun===
Blasting a biggish lap out at Sandy Ridge yesterday was very soul-nourishingBut even more telling was last week's "easy ride" turning into a 3-hour marathon with some very fast riders wasn't a problem, thanks to the little extra boost.  The twin joys of having fun going uphill plus also not being overtired during descents are really great.


Be safe: don't have a gunRent that shit at a gun club, and leave it there after the giggles are done.
===3: Vaccination Imminent===
Have an appointment for my first Pfizer jab in a weekThe future is bright.
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=[[2020.10.21 Mindfulness of Good and the Selfishness of Evil]]=
=[[2021.03.16 Mitsubishi Minicab Kei Van]]=
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BEHOLD!  The (tentatively titled) VANTACULUS Splinter Van!
Reactions to this vehicle usually fall into two basic categories: "AWWW!" and "What the hell?"


The kids and I were taking an after-work/school stroll, and Simon and I were discussing Dungeons & Dragons - specifically our characters of questionable morals.
The easiest way to answer the latter is to refer to the former.  But there is a lot more about this odd emergence of reality, and seeing as how this is my medium for documenting all the publicly notable experiences it seems fitting to elaborate about that.


Simon knows that I don't really subscribe to any absolute concepts of "good" or "evil", as they all too readily devolve into relative and circumstantial excusesThe common joke is that we are evil, but trying to be betterMostly.  But in the context of role-playing, there are objective aspects to contemplate for distinguishing good versus evil.
Backing things up a bit, there has definitely been a hole in my vehicular capabilities ever since I sold the Tyrannosaurus (1984 Toyota pickup)This was well-compensated for with the Schleppenwagen (Mercedes Metris van), but nothing since has been as suitableFor a few years I've made-do with either a roof-rack on the ex's Subarus or disassembling my bike and jamming it in the back of my Tesla.


What Simon described for how he and his compatriots played was something he called "chaotic neutral".  In his mind, this is a combination of "chaotic" - meaning not necessarily rule-abiding - and "neutral" - neither "good" nor "evil".  Which checks out, superficially.  But upon further discussion about how they actually played, it mostly meant that they were "free to do what they want".
Much of my bike-hauling needs have been actually satisfied of late with my bike-valet and riding buddy, Friar Gnarthaller and his various bike-shuttling vehicles.  But it is left to me to limp along begging for help when taking Simon for a ride, and annoying whenever I want to go for a simple ride by myself.


So I broke it to Simon that I think what he was playing is actually "evil".
So I've been contemplating a van for a while now.  Why a van?  Firstly, because having had a couple pickups, I recognize that the "haul dirt" function is incredibly rare for me.  And secondly, having tasted the sweet nectar of full van-hood, I know the joy of having my stuff locked away by default, and protected from elements.


This distressed Simon considerably, and he assured me that it's not evil - just not goodWhen I asked him to clarify what "evil" meant, and he asserted that it was all about intentionally afflicting harm on othersWhich, I mean, sure - that would definitely qualifyBut I tried to tell him that this alone was not a very useful definition - even for gaming purposesBecause while it might be sufficiently descriptive to assign to "evil" combatants the characters would face, it would be pretty much impossible to actually play a character that wayPartially because it would be nearly impossible to accomplish anything in a complicated world when literally nobody would deal with you. But mostly because it would exhausting to keep it up, since the motivation is so unrealistic.
Also, specifically, I've been looking for a vehicle I didn't have to care too much aboutOne of the great freedoms that the Tyrannosaurus provided was not worrying about muchA dent?  Don't careDirty?  Don't careSomething broken?  If it doesn't stop if from working, don't careLike that.


No, I really think "evil" is better explained by systematic selfishness and general disregard others.  "Bad" things happen from others being selfish more than they do from anyone or anything primarily interested in doing harmBalancing that, I see most "good" coming from people being mindful - of others and the world around them.
The prime target has been used work vans.  Sure, I'd eventually have to add seats if I wanted more than one passenger, but whateverThe temptation of used minivans was ascendent for a while too - because of the ability to also haul larger groups of people by virtue of stow-and-go seating (in addition to the primary bike-hauling purpose).  And also somewhat greater reliability of Japanese builds.


Which brings me to extrapolating that to the current election here in the United States - between the Hair Sniffer and the Pussy GrabberOr, more generally, between Republicans and Democrats.
Then I and my array of van-enabling friends noticed kei vansThey are hilarious!  Oh, but they're way too expensive for my "not caring" budget.


Classically, I would balance the contest as mostly being a contest of competing philosophical methods for how to best run a country.  I no longer think this is soWhile the Democrats are flawed in many ways, they are genuinely trying to continuously improve - and do so while fundamentally being mindful of others and the world in general.  Whereas the Republicans have devolved to being purely the party preying on the most selfish facets of people - their fears and hates.
Until this "cosmetically challenged" Mitsubishi Minicab popped up online at The Import Guys near Bellingham WashingtonAnd the rest was a PayPal purchase sight-unseen, a train (and bus) ride to Bellingham, and finally nerve-wracking hip-flexor-straining 95 km/h 6-hour scream down the I5.


Show me any single person who votes for Donald Trump for president in 2020, and I'll show you a person who is voting out of fear, hatred, or some other metastasized selfishness.
So, here we are.  Ready to rock.  And ride.<br>
And, yes, the kids lost their damn minds when they saw it.


Was it a wise purchase?  No.<br>
Is it likely to be a memorable experience?  Absolutely, yes.
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=[[2020.08.21 "You made that up."]]=
=[[2021.03.05 E-Bike Babbling]]=
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"You made that up."
http://www.kvankii.com/gallery/IMG_3481.jpeg


I'm not sure how much my total lack of surprise is conveyed by whatever expression is on my increasingly-worn face, but I lift my spiny shoulders in a shrug-like manner.  "That part isn't important for the purpose of this exchange, but it does set things up well to help you understand what I'm trying to explain."
So, way back before the pandemic, I rode some e-bikes.  I've been curious about electric motor assisted mountain bikes for a while.  That interest, to be clear, is because I spend most of my time riding with people who are both more skilled than I am and in better physical conditionThere had been a running joke that I was "allowed" to get an e-bike when I turned 50 - or if I had some permanent ride-impairing injury.


The lean reptilian death-machine regards me through slitted eyelids"Look, ye crazy old monster, I ken that ye can murder me inna blink of an eye - yeah?  So I'll listen to whatever cockamamie tale you need me ta hearJust maybe leave out the shyte with magical humans with wings."
The concept of it being allowable itself come from some stigma that e-bikes have in the mountain biking communityAnd I myself had some doubts about whether I should give up the level of effort typically required, for fitness sake.  The way in which I too-often was over-tired grinding up the hill so that I was unable to ride down technical trails cleanly, at least not without an extended period of gasping and draped limply against a treeSo, the allure, while obvious, has for a while been greater for me than many of my decades-younger-than-I riding crew.


"The lady with the bat wings that leapt into the portal wasn't the scary bit; it was the black telepathic robots that started hunting me. That was what started me on this path."
The first test ride was an eye-opening revelation full of giggling, and deeply planted seeds of desire.


The reptiloid adjusts all three of its pairs of holstered blasters to get more comfortable on its barstool perch. "A path for forcing random people to listen to crazy stories?"
A second test ride was a more focussed investigation of capabilities, and a goddamn handful of nails in the coffin of my reluctance.


Woo - suave.  It must have pinged the robotic bartender to start making a drink a few moments ago, because that casual reach backward without looking to receive that mug was pretty slick.  I wrinkle my snout.  "That's a by-product."  I tap one of my talons on the bar top to request a replacement drink of my own, in a more old-fashioned wayBased on the crooked set of its mouth, I think it does not think I'm very cool.
Part of the confluence of capability and desire is my riding style, which I sometimes refer to as "aggressively mediocre" and "old man fast"My riding lacks much finesse, so I have gradually leaned towards the full-enduro end of the bike spectrum in order to get enough plushness and stability to accommodate my need for speed and inability to avoid rocksSo not only does the thrust assist help my increasingly feeble ability to climb, but the extra heft of e-bikes doesn't significantly impair any light poppy skillful line choices.


The robotic bartender gives me an ETA on my drink, which seems somewhat faster than I would have expectedI regard my captive audience some more"At the time, I was rather skilled with a blaster, and well on my way to being a decent assassinTough enough that people stayed out of my way, which let me move pretty quickly through various environments."
As a tangent - I have a wee rant about the Specialized Level SL.  It's a low-power small-battery e-bike that is an attempt to be as much like an acoustic trail bike as possibleIt's awfulIf you really want to have a light, playful bike to float down trails... yeah, no.  It's still has a motor and batteriesBut that motor and battery are incapable of creating the same quality of giggles, and of annoying less quantity.


Ah - a nodThis makes sense to it, as it probably aligns well with its own ease of moving through reality through brute application of paired blaster fire.
Bada-bing bada-boom - I became the proud owner of the Commencal Meta Power pictured aboveMore, and more specific, riding impressions to come.  Hopefully soonish.
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I let my fangs show as I smile, to distract it.  "That almost got me killed too many times to count.  Because as fast as I could move on, the things hunting me could always find me."
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"So ye'r shitty at sneaking an hidingSo whaaaaaaat?!!!"
=[[2021.01.27 Clearly Not Doing This Right]]=
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The whole point of being all reclusive for the pandemic is to have to find things to do while stuck at homeWhich in my case should have involved a fuck tonne of writing and drawing.


The change of expression is just delicious as I brought one of its very-precious plasma blasters into view. "That was jut the thing - I wasn't.  Kind of the opposite."  It is clearly reigning in its indignation as it respectfully retrieves the exquisite weapon from my open palm.  "My problem was that I was just a bit too... distinctive."
NOPE.


A bunch of half-formed expressions chase each other across the reptiloid's face. "Have ye been hunting me down?"
My life is pretty full, though, with working from home and having the homeschooling kids during most of the weekdays.  Any time not spent productively being an engineer or parent I while away being a boyfriend.  And I cherish this time, even though there's not much to mark it by.


The tension of the moment is piled on with a faint mechanical scream and a sudden thin plume of smoke rising from behind the bar.  Both I and the reptiloid glance over, and I get an updated ETA on my drink that is considerably further in the future.  An ugly snicker works its way out of my ragged vocal chords.
Life is good.
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Turning back to regard the noticeably-more-tense reptiloid, I tilt my wedge-like head.  "Smart question.  But no, not exactly."
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It doesn't look relieved.  "What do ye mean 'not exactly'?"
=[[2020.11.27 "Come on guys, it's OK."]]=
 
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"Honestly, I wasn't looking for you. Just someone like you."
"Come on guys, it's OK."
 
"So, what?  A seasoned shock-trooper?"  I can see a thought sprout in its mind real-time.  "Or, are ye just looking for the toughest arsehole in the bar, to make a point?"
 
It's not far from the mark there.  "Let's just say that you are a means to an end, yes." And it wouldn't be correct to try to be any more reassuring than that.  Because this bristling hotshot is definitely at risk.  Imminently.  But not as much as I am.  That thought makes me smile, sardonically.
 
"Oh, yeah?  Wha' end is that, then?" I'm guessing that my smile makes it even less at ease.  Which is fine.
 
I make a face, peering over the bar to try to get a guess at the progress on my drink, and hold up a single talon.  "It won't do to jump to the end.  There's a process to this, for it to work properly.  If we rush it, it might end up with unnecessary violence and fuss."  The reptiloid looks restless, so I push on.  "The tactic I stumbled on, for existing without being so easily discovered, was to diversify my methods.  I stopped relying on the blaster, and started developing expertise with hand-to-hand combat.  I wasn't very good at it, at first, but I kept developing the assassination ability alongside.  I got rather good at that, too."


"Did that work?"
A terrible idea occurs to me as I listen to the professional goon begging in the airlock.  It is most definitely not OK, and I repress a grin as I slip out my tool kit.


"Nope!"
There's a reedy inflection in comm that I'm not sure is accurate or affectation.  "You sure didn't look like things were OK back there."


The impatience is almost palpable.  "Then why even mention it?"
You could almost hear the goon's shoulder's slump.  "Yeah, it was pretty tense."


"Well, it did work - a bit - for a while.  The problem was that the fundamental truth of what I am eventually shined through, and I became even more uniquely identifiable than beforeBecause I ran into an age-old problem - finding things difficult enough to be enough of a challenge to actually improve my skillsShifting into a new type of fighting eventually highlighted the underlying assassin skills, which remain at the core of my fighting styles."
"You're, ah, looking pretty zarking unscathedYou knowConsidering."


Oooh!  Drink is ready!  I tenderly pluck the crucible with the noxious fog roiling over the edge up off the bar. The repiloid's expression of disapproval grows as it regards my favourite poison. I gesture a "cheers" at it, and take an exploratory sip.   Oh, it burns!  The fumes etching my sinuses is particularly sharpLet me just dial down my pain receptors in my face even more so that I don't involuntarily shriek.  Hooooo - ahhhh.  Zark that was nasty.  It does have the desired effect, though: the warm sensation of a swarm of emergency nanoscopic robots involuntarily surging up my core.  Plus, you know, the painful reassurance that I'm not dead and can still feel.
"...Yeah.  I don't know how I'm not dead."


I turn to my involuntary drinking partner - who has apparently forgotten their own drink while watching me with an exotic mix of horror and wariness"Which essentially brings us to the part about hunting Missionaries."
This pause in the conversation sure sounds like other people conversing off-circuitI wonder if it's accessible...


"Oh, fucking hells!  More gorram fairy tale monsters?!"
"Guys....?" Ooop, sounds like the goon is thinking the same thing as me.


Ignoring the snarl, I make a grimace"The problem with Missionaries, for being like me, is that they are very hard to find."
"Just hang on a moment, Garvek." Ah, goon's name is Garvek.  Or, at least that's what the reedy-voice being calls the goon.  Might not be a reliable source.


"That's because they don't fucking exist, ye daft prickle bush!"
"Not to be too pushy, guys, but I think we should get out of here before my luck catches up with us."


"...so I tend to use bait."
Oh, I think they're over there...


The reptiloid is abruptly quiet and alert - mostly watching me thoughWhich is a mistake.
"...and it's bad for recruiting if we just ditch a crewman." Don't recognize that voice.


"Because Missionaries like to stalk powerful combatants - for training of their own."  This seems like a ripe moment to have my ridiculously over-compensating-class force blade fly up into my hand and snap energized.  The tension in the entire bar is now cranked up nicely.
"Recruiting?  Are you zarking with me?  Potential security personnel on another planet aren't going to give a flying zark about what happened to this idiot."  Well, at least reedy-voice is just as unpleasant with others, and not just poor Garvek.


The reptiloid carefully reaches to his pair of widestroke blasters - which would be a good choice, if any choice he made would have mattered.  "What the fuck are ye doing?!"
"For any old lump of cannon-fodder while we're still making a name for ourselves, sureBut once we start needing really top-notch people, this sort of shit will stain us for a long-ass time to come." Hm.  I think I like this guy.


"You don't think I'm talking to you, still, do you?"
"Shut the zark up, Krunks."  Ouch.  Someone knows they're wrong.  Wonder if Krunks is going to stuff a fistful of righteous insight down Reedy-Voice's throat...


There's a brilliant flash as an assault cutting beam suddenly cleaves a leg off a way-too-fast humanAnd only be reviewing sensor data afterwards is it possible to parse how very quickly said leg fled out of the bar on its own, hotly pursued by the transforming 3-limbed ex-human.  The reptiloid's blasters are out and he's pivoting to face the cowering remains of the bar - and leering Orbodun covering the exit with said assault cutting laser.
"As you wish, captain." Disappointing, but I guess I don't know the circumstances here.


I glide off my stool, also carefully regarding the exit, and slink over to my partners. "That worked really well!"
"Orders?"  That's a third voice, reptilian, who sounds like they were having trouble with the awkward pause.


The super-stealthy Takolee appears at my elbow. The Orbodun nods, "Except that I almost flinched when the rifle was slipped into my grip.  You are extremely smooth."  The Takolee gives a flourish of a bow.  The Orbodun nods in the direction of the flustered reptiloid still brandishing pistols.  "I think you owe that... guy? a drink."
"Gah! Let the impossibly-lucky goon in."


"It's truly androgynous at the moment, so neither a guy nor a gal, technicallyBut, nah - I already gave it a great story to tell."
There might have been a grunting noise, but immediately afterwards we can feel and hear the heavy ship bulkhead door cycle.  I wish we could get a peek into that big central corridor...


"Not that anyone will believe it's story, though."
<pre>...in process...</pre>


"That's a feature of a really great story, isn't it?"
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=[[2020.07.07 Verbal Constipation]]=
=[[2020.11.27 Time Machine]]=
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There's so much going on!
Hello future-Simon and future-Violet when you're (a bit) older and reading stuff your dad wrote to find out what he was like outside of the interactions that formed your memories.
 
Well, life is really fucking¹ good, honestly.  It's horrific to think that maybe it takes 9 months of hiding during a pandemic and almost 4 years of racist/fascist Tumpocalypse to really appreciate where I am and what I have.  I like to think I would be thankful anyway, because I'm insightful and zen... but whatever.


And I have so little ability to make meaningful note of it.  Sucks.
Being able to hole up with you two for homeschooling in our airy little condo is just fantastic.  I love this time with you, and will cherish it alwaysYou are both adapting and overcoming this strange time better than I could possibly have hoped.
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Hearing you giggle while you melt your brains with youtube videos is one of my favourite sounds ever.  Having you joining Amy, my Vampire Queen girlfriend in her anti-running rebellion was also amusing, but going for our group PE runs feeds my soul.  And the best part of getting a robotic vacuum wasn't the automatic floor cleaning, but sharing your delight with watching it charge slowly about and piling your stuffed toys on it.


=[[2020.06.30 Courage, Confidence, and Goodness]]=
I've just gotten a new mountain bike, this time with an electric motor. Which I'm looking forward to using to tow Simon on his mountain bike up the hill once the weather gets nicer.
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If courage isn't the absence of fear but doing the right thing regardless of it, maybe confidence isn't the absence of insecurity but knowing you have real worth despite it.


By this same token, maybe goodness isn't the absence of bad thoughts or impulses, but the conscious choice to behave according to your moral ideals in spite of them.
Oh, and the hilariously annoying VAN, Volkswagen, snotty Volkswagen, and I-can't-believe-it's-not-a-van game everywhere we go these days.
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And it's so fun for me to watch the new episodes of The Mandalorian with you.  You both make great little nerds.


=[[2020.05.24 Pandemic Ponderings 4]]=
You probably saw bits of my work during this time, and mostly just saw me as being stressed by it.  Especially all the meetings. But you should also know that I really love developing all these new truck systems and mentoring new engineers. Plus also helping out with the new electric trucks, and the autonomous truck project. Being fulfilled by work is a satisfaction that I hope I can model for you well, so that you can find it for yourselves.
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How very odd that the top four countries ranked in terms of cases of infection, demonstrating that they are the least capable of dealing with real world facts and situations, all happen to have governments lead by populist leaders.
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=[[2020.05.17 The Hole]]=
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Back when I was turning 30, I was tormented for a couple years with a new sensation of being ready to be part of a family.  I discovered in myself a capacity to hold another in a trusting way, to be a partner.  It ached to be unfulfilled.  But then I did find a partner, and it blossomed into a family, and the sense of completeness is one that I know in my bones is how my best life can be realized. 


So I know that such a thing is possible.  And the ache I feel now can be soothed, with patience and care.


Except now there's a new space in me, beyond the socket that I might find a partner to fitI've been eroded by the knowledge that it ends.  It always ends.  My trust can never be safe.
¹ <small>Yeah, you probably remember that your dad swore a fair amountBut he liked to think it was just nicely seasoned for emphasis, even though you thought it was too much at the time.</small>


Which is why I'm here, alone with my feelings, grieving the version of me that I may never get to be again.
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=[[2020.05.09 Define Well-Being]]=
=[[2020.11.13 United States of Assholes]]=
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Before the pandemic started, I signed up for an online psychology course from Yale: <i>The Psychology of Happiness</i> with Doctor Laurie SantosIt was meant to augment my therapy, but has turned into my only therapy.  And, honestly, it's been some of the most helpful therapeutic work I've done.
The deep and profound relief at the (eventual) election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris is thankfully still salving the past four years of horrorEmotional, philosophical, spiritual, pragmatic utilitarian horror.  But the gestalt horror is not forgotten.  And, worse, the visceral terror of the implications of the numbers of the election cannot be un-discovered.
 
People looking at the title of this post might be triggered, classifying this as just more of Clayton's typical pro-Canada elitism finding an opportunity to gloat.  And it's a fair comment.  But the United States really is magnificent, and Portland in particular is full of all kinds of awesome.  I've been here for almost 2 decades now, and have a lot of important roots, and that deepens how significant what goes on in the US is to me.


My week 7 homework is a short essay: Define well-being.
With that in mind, the fact that about 70 million people voted for Donald Trump in 2020 is... sad.
<blockquote><i>"Think about your own definition of well-being and share it with your classmates. What does living the good life mean to you personally? Has this course changed your definition at all?"</i></blockquote>


Here goes.
Even acknowledging the extreme polarization, it still means that almost twice the population of Canada worth of people were willing to at least "put up with" a fascist racist lying failure of a president.  And why would they do this?  Well, last month I speculated that it functionally makes them bad people - but virtually nobody does anything with the specific intent to be bad people (Mitch McConnell excepted).


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I think the reason comes down to how the US is systemically structured to facilitate assholes.
Well-being might shift definition based on where you view it from, in time.


Looking forward, well-being feels defined by a sense of affluence and easeWe imagine our future selves as having well-being with goals achieved, and needs met, and being safe.
It has gotten better over the centuries, but fundamentally it's still about harnessing the power of assholes.  It's not that everyone in the US is an asshole, or that only assholes thrive.  It's more that being an asshole is a distinct advantage in most aspects of living in the US.  And even further, the pitting of people's stoked avarice against each other allows for considerable achievements.  It just so happens that those achievements are usually at considerable human expenseThis every-asshole-for-themself individualism was key for expanding through a wild continent.  But it is now very much out of step for the interests of living with ourselves in civilization.


In the moment, well-being is all about how in-touch with ourselves we areSensing the alignment of our thoughts, feelings, perceptions and sensations are the most tangible understanding of immediate well-beingThese are the immersive experiences of well-being that are the pixels that make up the picture we're painting of our lives.
The divide politically is most obviously displayed with the geographical results - urban versus rural.  Many of the conservative people I know all have worries about reality where the only solution they can conceive of is raw independent self-sufficiencyEven when I snarkily suggest adjusting shared societal factors to eradicate the selfsame problemsHowever they insist such ideas are impossible - because there are too many assholes.  Which, inevitably, means that they have to pre-asshole to out-asshole the hypothetical assholes.


Looking back, well-being is filtered through our evaluation of our own equanimity with whatever our challenges were, and the level of acceptance we have gainedIf we're wise, maybe we see how our own well-being is tied to the degree to which we were sources of well-being for the rest of the world.
The trouble with assholes, aside from the inherent assholery, is the tendency to assume that everyone else is an asshole tooPerhaps more than just a tendency for some, but a full blown paranoia that the world is stuffed full of dicks out to fuck the unwary.  This causes them to forgive all sorts of crazy shit for the purpose of supporting political forces they think will be the right kind of assholery.
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Revision as of 16:38, 7 May 2021

claytoncastle.com • T R A N S I T I O N



2021.05.07 Living In America - Part Huh

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[ramble=ON]
Welcome to Wherever You Are was a timely INXS album for me, as it marked my first fully-away-from-home life while going to university. It's distinctive not-grunge sound is the soundtrack of my memories that I formed discovering Victoria. Whenever I hear those songs I recall the sense of recognition of all the things that were fundamentally different about living in the island mini-metropolis from the remote mountain village I came from. Even long after the new environs became familiar and generally unsurprising, it helped me remember that there are still assumptions lingering in my existence that are not actually aligned with where I was.

I should re-listen to that album, after yesterday's reminder that I'm not in Canada any more.
[ramble=OFF]

Just after noon yesterday, I was on a work call in my 4th-floor condo in semi-urban North Portland with my kids doing distance learning. A small Black Lives Matter march with about 40 participants made a clatter as they went by on the street below. It was frankly charming, with drums and singing, and I like that Portland is active in this way.

Then a commotion happened, and I missed the kernel of the event.

When I looked outside, there was a red minivan in the middle of the crowd. It was almost stopped when I noticed it, the tires I could see were flat, the drivers window was smashed, and the driver looked to be in distress. But, honestly, what really caught my attention were the handful of people with what appeared to be AR-15 assault rifles pointed at the van - one obstinately standing in front of it with his rifle trained on the driver.

Confused yelling ensued, while at least one small person I could see was getting medical aid from somebody with a medical kit on the sidewalk. Tensions ran high, but nothing more dramatic happened. People from the march started bringing bottles of water to the driver, who used them to rinse off his face - presumably he got a heft dose of pepper spray in the eyes. Other marchers started re-directing traffic away from the scene, to alleviate the instant traffic jam.

Eventually, the armed marchers slung their rifles, and other people led the van driver to sit at a nearby bus stop to recover. They brought him more water to rinse his eyes, and I noticed that a few other people were rinsing their eyes as well - suggesting that the cloud of pepper spray had drifted about somewhat. After a few minutes, the driver got back in his minivan and drove it slowly away on 4 flat tires, and the rest of the march evaporated.

Some time to process it has let me consider a few things.

When I saw the rifles, I got off my work call to be able to call 911. But I paused, considering, "Do I really want to call the police on a bunch of black people?" It's a horrifying thing that this is a legitimate concern. It makes me wish there was a non-police "people who can help" emergency number. I should spin this thought into a separate Rant™.

I still have no idea whether this was a deliberate vehicular assault by the late-middle-aged white male in shabby clothes and crappy minivan, or an oblivious driving error while turning through an intersection. However, I'm simultaneously impressed and mortified at how clearly ready to respond to exactly such an assault the mark participants were. The rifles were over-the-top in my opinion, but it's hard to argue against desire to counter the deadliness of a vehicle driving through a crowd. But the slashing of the tires, the smashing of the driver's window, and pepper spraying the driver all happened in a way that seems like a prepared reaction. If the driver merely blundered into that crowd, I confess that getting pepper sprayed and some mild damage to his vehicle seems like not the worst repercussion. If the driver drove through those people intentionally - fuck that guy; I hope he goes blind.

Co-morbid with both my reluctance to call the police and my disdain of the weapons present is yet another demonstration of my deeply ingrained privilege. In that: when I saw people with assault rifles on the street in front of me, I didn't think "DUCK". I just hung out on my balcony, gawking. Completely assured that I was not a target, or at risk. It's probably good that I can exist like this, but maybe it shouldn't be an exceptional thing.


2021.04.20 Slayer Slayed

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Yeah, I sold the Slayer.

Logically, it made a lot of sense - in several ways.

  1. First of all, the Slayer as an enduro sled has pretty much the same utility envelope as the Commençal META Power. Except, you know, every so slightly less awesome. So the Slayer was likely just going to sit in my bike closet being sad and pathetic.
  2. This also happens to be a magical time for bike value. I got 50% more for it than I would have guessed in a normal year, and it sold in just one day. In retrospect, I should have asked for more.
  3. Plus there is the very real fact that after 4 years of solid use, it would soon be time to dump a bunch of money into the Slayer to keep it up to snuff.

That being said, I was very sad to sell it. For the usual reasons - that I feel genuine attachment to mechanical things that have helped me, and saved me occasionally, and generally enabled a bunch of great memories.

I fully plan on getting another bike, to round out where my Enduro Monster Truck is less well-suited. Probably to enable bike-commuting, but hopefully also for riding less-technical trails. We'll see.


2021.04.03 Bikes and Vans and Stuff

As is standard for the past year, I'm not spending much time writing. Which isn't because there isn't anything happening, but rather because there's too much happening. Or, really, a combination of a lot of things happening, and my overwhelming state of satisfied happiness. Which makes for odd and boring blog entries.

BUT! There's still a couple things to mention, as a matter of record here.

1: I broke the Kei Van

It had problems on a return drive from Sandy Ridge in a downpour, then wouldn't start again after we stopped at the Gnarthaller's. Subsequent inspection showed it was dangerously low on oil (facepalm), even though the oil light never came on. Will be working on resurrecting it soon.
UPDATE: VANTACULUS LIVES!!! Thanks to help and support from @gnarthaller.

2: E-Biking is almost too much fun

Blasting a biggish lap out at Sandy Ridge yesterday was very soul-nourishing. But even more telling was last week's "easy ride" turning into a 3-hour marathon with some very fast riders wasn't a problem, thanks to the little extra boost. The twin joys of having fun going uphill plus also not being overtired during descents are really great.

3: Vaccination Imminent

Have an appointment for my first Pfizer jab in a week. The future is bright.


2021.03.16 Mitsubishi Minicab Kei Van

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BEHOLD! The (tentatively titled) VANTACULUS Splinter Van!

Reactions to this vehicle usually fall into two basic categories: "AWWW!" and "What the hell?"

The easiest way to answer the latter is to refer to the former. But there is a lot more about this odd emergence of reality, and seeing as how this is my medium for documenting all the publicly notable experiences it seems fitting to elaborate about that.

Backing things up a bit, there has definitely been a hole in my vehicular capabilities ever since I sold the Tyrannosaurus (1984 Toyota pickup). This was well-compensated for with the Schleppenwagen (Mercedes Metris van), but nothing since has been as suitable. For a few years I've made-do with either a roof-rack on the ex's Subarus or disassembling my bike and jamming it in the back of my Tesla.

Much of my bike-hauling needs have been actually satisfied of late with my bike-valet and riding buddy, Friar Gnarthaller and his various bike-shuttling vehicles. But it is left to me to limp along begging for help when taking Simon for a ride, and annoying whenever I want to go for a simple ride by myself.

So I've been contemplating a van for a while now. Why a van? Firstly, because having had a couple pickups, I recognize that the "haul dirt" function is incredibly rare for me. And secondly, having tasted the sweet nectar of full van-hood, I know the joy of having my stuff locked away by default, and protected from elements.

Also, specifically, I've been looking for a vehicle I didn't have to care too much about. One of the great freedoms that the Tyrannosaurus provided was not worrying about much. A dent? Don't care. Dirty? Don't care. Something broken? If it doesn't stop if from working, don't care. Like that.

The prime target has been used work vans. Sure, I'd eventually have to add seats if I wanted more than one passenger, but whatever. The temptation of used minivans was ascendent for a while too - because of the ability to also haul larger groups of people by virtue of stow-and-go seating (in addition to the primary bike-hauling purpose). And also somewhat greater reliability of Japanese builds.

Then I and my array of van-enabling friends noticed kei vans. They are hilarious! Oh, but they're way too expensive for my "not caring" budget.

Until this "cosmetically challenged" Mitsubishi Minicab popped up online at The Import Guys near Bellingham Washington. And the rest was a PayPal purchase sight-unseen, a train (and bus) ride to Bellingham, and finally nerve-wracking hip-flexor-straining 95 km/h 6-hour scream down the I5.

So, here we are. Ready to rock. And ride.
And, yes, the kids lost their damn minds when they saw it.

Was it a wise purchase? No.
Is it likely to be a memorable experience? Absolutely, yes.


2021.03.05 E-Bike Babbling

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So, way back before the pandemic, I rode some e-bikes. I've been curious about electric motor assisted mountain bikes for a while. That interest, to be clear, is because I spend most of my time riding with people who are both more skilled than I am and in better physical condition. There had been a running joke that I was "allowed" to get an e-bike when I turned 50 - or if I had some permanent ride-impairing injury.

The concept of it being allowable itself come from some stigma that e-bikes have in the mountain biking community. And I myself had some doubts about whether I should give up the level of effort typically required, for fitness sake. The way in which I too-often was over-tired grinding up the hill so that I was unable to ride down technical trails cleanly, at least not without an extended period of gasping and draped limply against a tree. So, the allure, while obvious, has for a while been greater for me than many of my decades-younger-than-I riding crew.

The first test ride was an eye-opening revelation full of giggling, and deeply planted seeds of desire.

A second test ride was a more focussed investigation of capabilities, and a goddamn handful of nails in the coffin of my reluctance.

Part of the confluence of capability and desire is my riding style, which I sometimes refer to as "aggressively mediocre" and "old man fast". My riding lacks much finesse, so I have gradually leaned towards the full-enduro end of the bike spectrum in order to get enough plushness and stability to accommodate my need for speed and inability to avoid rocks. So not only does the thrust assist help my increasingly feeble ability to climb, but the extra heft of e-bikes doesn't significantly impair any light poppy skillful line choices.

As a tangent - I have a wee rant about the Specialized Level SL. It's a low-power small-battery e-bike that is an attempt to be as much like an acoustic trail bike as possible. It's awful. If you really want to have a light, playful bike to float down trails... yeah, no. It's still has a motor and batteries. But that motor and battery are incapable of creating the same quality of giggles, and of annoying less quantity.

Bada-bing bada-boom - I became the proud owner of the Commencal Meta Power pictured above. More, and more specific, riding impressions to come. Hopefully soonish.


2021.01.27 Clearly Not Doing This Right

The whole point of being all reclusive for the pandemic is to have to find things to do while stuck at home. Which in my case should have involved a fuck tonne of writing and drawing.

NOPE.

My life is pretty full, though, with working from home and having the homeschooling kids during most of the weekdays. Any time not spent productively being an engineer or parent I while away being a boyfriend. And I cherish this time, even though there's not much to mark it by.

Life is good.



2020.11.27 "Come on guys, it's OK."

"Come on guys, it's OK."

A terrible idea occurs to me as I listen to the professional goon begging in the airlock. It is most definitely not OK, and I repress a grin as I slip out my tool kit.

There's a reedy inflection in comm that I'm not sure is accurate or affectation. "You sure didn't look like things were OK back there."

You could almost hear the goon's shoulder's slump. "Yeah, it was pretty tense."

"You're, ah, looking pretty zarking unscathed. You know. Considering."

"...Yeah. I don't know how I'm not dead."

This pause in the conversation sure sounds like other people conversing off-circuit. I wonder if it's accessible...

"Guys....?" Ooop, sounds like the goon is thinking the same thing as me.

"Just hang on a moment, Garvek." Ah, goon's name is Garvek. Or, at least that's what the reedy-voice being calls the goon. Might not be a reliable source.

"Not to be too pushy, guys, but I think we should get out of here before my luck catches up with us."

Oh, I think they're over there...

"...and it's bad for recruiting if we just ditch a crewman." Don't recognize that voice.

"Recruiting? Are you zarking with me? Potential security personnel on another planet aren't going to give a flying zark about what happened to this idiot." Well, at least reedy-voice is just as unpleasant with others, and not just poor Garvek.

"For any old lump of cannon-fodder while we're still making a name for ourselves, sure. But once we start needing really top-notch people, this sort of shit will stain us for a long-ass time to come." Hm. I think I like this guy.

"Shut the zark up, Krunks." Ouch. Someone knows they're wrong. Wonder if Krunks is going to stuff a fistful of righteous insight down Reedy-Voice's throat...

"As you wish, captain." Disappointing, but I guess I don't know the circumstances here.

"Orders?" That's a third voice, reptilian, who sounds like they were having trouble with the awkward pause.

"Gah! Let the impossibly-lucky goon in."

There might have been a grunting noise, but immediately afterwards we can feel and hear the heavy ship bulkhead door cycle. I wish we could get a peek into that big central corridor...

...in process...


2020.11.27 Time Machine

Hello future-Simon and future-Violet when you're (a bit) older and reading stuff your dad wrote to find out what he was like outside of the interactions that formed your memories.

Well, life is really fucking¹ good, honestly. It's horrific to think that maybe it takes 9 months of hiding during a pandemic and almost 4 years of racist/fascist Tumpocalypse to really appreciate where I am and what I have. I like to think I would be thankful anyway, because I'm insightful and zen... but whatever.

Being able to hole up with you two for homeschooling in our airy little condo is just fantastic. I love this time with you, and will cherish it always. You are both adapting and overcoming this strange time better than I could possibly have hoped.

Hearing you giggle while you melt your brains with youtube videos is one of my favourite sounds ever. Having you joining Amy, my Vampire Queen girlfriend in her anti-running rebellion was also amusing, but going for our group PE runs feeds my soul. And the best part of getting a robotic vacuum wasn't the automatic floor cleaning, but sharing your delight with watching it charge slowly about and piling your stuffed toys on it.

I've just gotten a new mountain bike, this time with an electric motor. Which I'm looking forward to using to tow Simon on his mountain bike up the hill once the weather gets nicer.

Oh, and the hilariously annoying VAN, Volkswagen, snotty Volkswagen, and I-can't-believe-it's-not-a-van game everywhere we go these days.

And it's so fun for me to watch the new episodes of The Mandalorian with you. You both make great little nerds.

You probably saw bits of my work during this time, and mostly just saw me as being stressed by it. Especially all the meetings. But you should also know that I really love developing all these new truck systems and mentoring new engineers. Plus also helping out with the new electric trucks, and the autonomous truck project. Being fulfilled by work is a satisfaction that I hope I can model for you well, so that you can find it for yourselves.





¹ Yeah, you probably remember that your dad swore a fair amount. But he liked to think it was just nicely seasoned for emphasis, even though you thought it was too much at the time.


2020.11.13 United States of Assholes

The deep and profound relief at the (eventual) election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris is thankfully still salving the past four years of horror. Emotional, philosophical, spiritual, pragmatic utilitarian horror. But the gestalt horror is not forgotten. And, worse, the visceral terror of the implications of the numbers of the election cannot be un-discovered.

People looking at the title of this post might be triggered, classifying this as just more of Clayton's typical pro-Canada elitism finding an opportunity to gloat. And it's a fair comment. But the United States really is magnificent, and Portland in particular is full of all kinds of awesome. I've been here for almost 2 decades now, and have a lot of important roots, and that deepens how significant what goes on in the US is to me.

With that in mind, the fact that about 70 million people voted for Donald Trump in 2020 is... sad.

Even acknowledging the extreme polarization, it still means that almost twice the population of Canada worth of people were willing to at least "put up with" a fascist racist lying failure of a president. And why would they do this? Well, last month I speculated that it functionally makes them bad people - but virtually nobody does anything with the specific intent to be bad people (Mitch McConnell excepted).

I think the reason comes down to how the US is systemically structured to facilitate assholes.

It has gotten better over the centuries, but fundamentally it's still about harnessing the power of assholes. It's not that everyone in the US is an asshole, or that only assholes thrive. It's more that being an asshole is a distinct advantage in most aspects of living in the US. And even further, the pitting of people's stoked avarice against each other allows for considerable achievements. It just so happens that those achievements are usually at considerable human expense. This every-asshole-for-themself individualism was key for expanding through a wild continent. But it is now very much out of step for the interests of living with ourselves in civilization.

The divide politically is most obviously displayed with the geographical results - urban versus rural. Many of the conservative people I know all have worries about reality where the only solution they can conceive of is raw independent self-sufficiency. Even when I snarkily suggest adjusting shared societal factors to eradicate the selfsame problems. However they insist such ideas are impossible - because there are too many assholes. Which, inevitably, means that they have to pre-asshole to out-asshole the hypothetical assholes.

The trouble with assholes, aside from the inherent assholery, is the tendency to assume that everyone else is an asshole too. Perhaps more than just a tendency for some, but a full blown paranoia that the world is stuffed full of dicks out to fuck the unwary. This causes them to forgive all sorts of crazy shit for the purpose of supporting political forces they think will be the right kind of assholery.


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Some people need to find the edges of things, instead of assuming what they might be. I like your style.