Memorial Day weekend. I worked on Friday night, all day Saturday, and the latter part of Sunday. I gave myself a few hours of freedom on Sunday to wander around downtown Frederick, taking photos, and buying a birthday gift for a friend and some cards. The weather was glorious and it was so amazing to be outdoors, instead of sitting hunched over my computer.
I never touch freelancing on holidays, so even though I had a ton of it to do, I still set it aside on Monday. It felt like such a decadent luxury! In lieu of work, I walked one of the trails at Monocacy National Battlefield and then spent a few hours reading on my balcony (again: luxury!), before settling down to watch a movie and some TV.
On Tuesday we had a brief shot of summer—mid-80s, humid—and so when I got home from work I did something I haven’t done since the 20th century: I turned on the air-conditioning. See, from January 2000 until December 2007 I lived in basement apartments where I had no control over my own heating and air-conditioning. I was completely at the mercy of the people upstairs. I really, really fucking hate the heat, so on hot days I’d spend my whole commute home chanting, “Please let the a/c be on when I get home…please let the a/c be on when I get home…,” and if I got home and it wasn’t on, and instead my apartment felt like the surface of the sun, I’d start to cry. I seriously hate the heat that much. So you can imagine what it was like to go home on Tuesday and have the freedom to touch one button and have my place cool down. It was like…like…witchcraft!
This weekend I’ll be bogged down with work, of course, but I may also borrow one of Kristen’s dogs and meet a coworker at the Walk n’ Wag event in Frederick on Saturday morning. At night I’m meeting Julie and Susan at DC’s hip, organic vegetarian restaurant, Vegetate, for a pre-birthday dinner. Then Susan and I will haul our overstuffed asses to the Palace of Wonders, where we’ll attend a bona fide burlesque show. Hot! I’m such an old fogey, I’m almost agog at the fact that the show only starts at 10pm (ohmigod that’s so late!), but it will be worth it, I think. It seems like silly, bawdy fun, and it’ll be nice to pull my ruminating head out of my morose ass for once and do something completely inane at night. But this is assuming I can even snag tickets; this particular burlesque revue has been known to sell out, and I’m having trouble snagging tickets in advance.
*knocks on wood*
song heard most recently before posting:
September Morn—Neil Diamond
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
disasters
Last night I decided to take a break from ruminating over the ceaseless, churning horrors of the world (especially the devastating catastrophes in China and Burma) by distracting myself with a Netflixed movie. Did I watch a frothy comedy or heartwarming chick flick? No, I watched Cloverfield. With all the lights off. Naturally. (But in my defense, I snuggled under a cozy blanket and had Freyja sprawled beside me, one leg kicked over me as she slept, as a source of comfort.)
Well, I was eager to see the movie because it was created by JJ Abrams and involves a monster, and, given that Lost is my crack, any Abrams/monster pairing is a good thing in my book. Besides, one could say that a good distraction from real-world horrors is to watch fake horrors, since they make everything else look semi-decent in comparison. Well, that’s the logic in my world, anyway—I think it’s why I’m so entranced with depressing books (especially those in the dystopian and postapocalyptic oeuvre).
But the movie didn’t actually comfort me very much, because parts of it were very 9/11-ish, to an almost disconcerting degree. However, the CGI was great and I thought—in spite of the stomach-churning bouncing of the handheld camera—it was a very well-done movie, and deliciously scary in its own right (I mean, away any fear caused by the parallels between Cloverfield’s rampage in New York and the terrorist attacks in New York).
When recommending the movie to friends, I advised them to follow it up with a quick visit to the movie’s FAQ on IMDB, because it helps to explain some background material that appeared in viral marketing websites (à la Lost), and this material adds a new dimension to the movie.
Torturing myself even more, I’ve been reading a book (The Long Emergency, by James Howard Kunstler) loaned to me by my boss, and this thing is astoundingly terrifying and makes me want to slit my wrists. But it’s fascinating, too, because I’m admittedly ignorant about the oil crisis. It’s really opening my eyes to what’s looming before us: the day when we will run out of oil. It’s also opening my eyes to the inadequacy of alternative fuels, and how no current alternative can keep our society functioning at its current level. Nothing—not wind power, solar power, biofuels, nor hydrogen—can sustain our society at its current level of growth and speed. Some alternative fuels would do better than others, but in an ironic twist, pretty much all of them need a fossil fuel platform to either get started or to flat-out exist (like how oil is needed to run the machinery that produces wind turbines, solar panels, and usable hydrogen). When oil ends, our society as we know it will end. It won’t disappear, but even with alternative fuels, it will be drastically, permanently altered and shrunk.
The out-of-control population boom of our age is due to the cheap and plentiful oil we’ve thus far enjoyed. It has fueled (no pun intended) globalization, suburban sprawl, factory farming, the inhabitation of areas barely able to support life (such as hyper-arid areas), and the construction of buildings that are completely incompatible with their local climate (for example, southern McMansions without traditional cooling mechanisms such as breezeways and transom windows, and office buildings whose windows won’t open). And these things, in turn, fuel their own set of problems, with environmental degradation, climate change, and antibiotic-resistant diseases being just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
So yes, for the sake of the planet’s health, it’s actually beneficial that our oil days are numbered. However, this also spells catastrophic changes for humans and modern society as we know it. We can barely support the Earth’s current population even with fossil fuels; without them, vast numbers of people will die from starvation and the wars that will undoubtedly be fought over the remaining (and dwindling) oil and natural gas reserves. Our drastically reduced population will have to become intensely local. And that’s where suburban sprawl really becomes problematic. After all, the very definition of sprawl is spreading without restraint, and how local can a community be when it’s spread carelessly over miles and miles? Many communities have no town center containing shops, businesses, and homes within walking distance, because everything is contained in far-flung strip malls and subdivisions. Really, they can scarcely even be called communities, because their individual pieces are so disconnected from one another, they’re not functioning as a cohesive whole.
Kunstler pointed out that America is in a particularly bad spot, because no other country has produced as much suburban sprawl as us, with such a pervasive habit of metaphorically torching our cities as we retreat. Sure, some urban communities remain as intact as ever, and gentrification has breathed new life into formerly abandoned spaces, but so many cities still have cores that have become mere shells—ghost towns littered with crumbling infrastructures, debris, and pollution. They’d need a lot of work before they could sustain a population fleeing from the suburbs. Europe, said Kunstler, is in a better position to survive, because their sprawl is limited, their cities were never forsaken, and most cities and towns have strong agricultural areas not far beyond their borders. Plus they have excellent public transportation, so when oil reserves are too low to give the average person access, people will still be able to get from Point A to Point B.
It got me thinking about my own home, and how I’m in one of those soulless, sprawling suburbs, 23 miles away from my office. In a perfect world, I would’ve been able to buy a home within walking distance of my office or within the DC city limits, but neither was an affordable option for me. So out, out, out I went. And while Frederick is a great city—very community-minded and independent (its residents don’t think of themselves as being in a DC suburb)—I couldn’t afford any non-ghetto houses/condos there, either (downtown, I mean). So I’m outside the city, in a development full of condos and McTownhouses, not near a train station, dependent on my car. In a post-fossil fuel world, I’d be kind of fucked. But then again, if I changed to a local job and got a bike, I could bike to work and bike to downtown Frederick where I could find food and supplies. I imagine the city would handle a post-fossil fuel world surprisingly well, since it already has a wealth of local businesses (not just big-box chain stores in suburban strip malls), a farmer’s market, and agricultural areas.
If you want to learn more about the looming oil crisis; get a thorough, eye-opening overview of fossil fuels, alternative fuels, and the intricate codependency between fossil fuels and modern life; and get scared out of your pants, then I recommend checking out this book.
Anyway, moving on. I know I’ve been M.I.A. lately. A number of major changes are going on at work, leaving me nervous and withdrawn. And freelancing has been hectic, with several tight deadlines hitting at once. Still, things are pretty good for the most part. My mom and aunt visited from out of state over Mother’s Day weekend and I had a lot of fun during their visit. The highlight was when they joined my sister and me for a Mother’s Day brunch at Isabella’s, a superb tapas restaurant in downtown Frederick. Afterwards we wandered through the boutiques downtown, but it was rainy and chilly and not the best day for leisurely strolling around.
This past weekend’s weather was much better, and although much of my time was spent confined indoors, working on freelancing, I did escape for a bit on Saturday to attend a lovely garden party at an ex-coworker’s house. And more of my wood laminate floors were installed on Sunday, leaving me gleefully giddy with excitement.
We’re shifting into a long holiday weekend that’s supposed to have stellar weather. I won’t be traveling anywhere (no beach for me, unfortunately), but I do intend to kick freelancing aside for a little while to A) check out the hiking trails at Monocacy National Battlefield (I’ve heard they’re great), and B) spend some time truly exploring Frederick: photographing the old buildings, learning my way around, poking around all the cool shops, checking out the graves at historic Mt. Olivet Cemetery, and buying birthday presents for a friend.
song heard most recently before posting:
Hometown Glory—Adele
Well, I was eager to see the movie because it was created by JJ Abrams and involves a monster, and, given that Lost is my crack, any Abrams/monster pairing is a good thing in my book. Besides, one could say that a good distraction from real-world horrors is to watch fake horrors, since they make everything else look semi-decent in comparison. Well, that’s the logic in my world, anyway—I think it’s why I’m so entranced with depressing books (especially those in the dystopian and postapocalyptic oeuvre).
But the movie didn’t actually comfort me very much, because parts of it were very 9/11-ish, to an almost disconcerting degree. However, the CGI was great and I thought—in spite of the stomach-churning bouncing of the handheld camera—it was a very well-done movie, and deliciously scary in its own right (I mean, away any fear caused by the parallels between Cloverfield’s rampage in New York and the terrorist attacks in New York).
When recommending the movie to friends, I advised them to follow it up with a quick visit to the movie’s FAQ on IMDB, because it helps to explain some background material that appeared in viral marketing websites (à la Lost), and this material adds a new dimension to the movie.
Torturing myself even more, I’ve been reading a book (The Long Emergency, by James Howard Kunstler) loaned to me by my boss, and this thing is astoundingly terrifying and makes me want to slit my wrists. But it’s fascinating, too, because I’m admittedly ignorant about the oil crisis. It’s really opening my eyes to what’s looming before us: the day when we will run out of oil. It’s also opening my eyes to the inadequacy of alternative fuels, and how no current alternative can keep our society functioning at its current level. Nothing—not wind power, solar power, biofuels, nor hydrogen—can sustain our society at its current level of growth and speed. Some alternative fuels would do better than others, but in an ironic twist, pretty much all of them need a fossil fuel platform to either get started or to flat-out exist (like how oil is needed to run the machinery that produces wind turbines, solar panels, and usable hydrogen). When oil ends, our society as we know it will end. It won’t disappear, but even with alternative fuels, it will be drastically, permanently altered and shrunk.
The out-of-control population boom of our age is due to the cheap and plentiful oil we’ve thus far enjoyed. It has fueled (no pun intended) globalization, suburban sprawl, factory farming, the inhabitation of areas barely able to support life (such as hyper-arid areas), and the construction of buildings that are completely incompatible with their local climate (for example, southern McMansions without traditional cooling mechanisms such as breezeways and transom windows, and office buildings whose windows won’t open). And these things, in turn, fuel their own set of problems, with environmental degradation, climate change, and antibiotic-resistant diseases being just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
So yes, for the sake of the planet’s health, it’s actually beneficial that our oil days are numbered. However, this also spells catastrophic changes for humans and modern society as we know it. We can barely support the Earth’s current population even with fossil fuels; without them, vast numbers of people will die from starvation and the wars that will undoubtedly be fought over the remaining (and dwindling) oil and natural gas reserves. Our drastically reduced population will have to become intensely local. And that’s where suburban sprawl really becomes problematic. After all, the very definition of sprawl is spreading without restraint, and how local can a community be when it’s spread carelessly over miles and miles? Many communities have no town center containing shops, businesses, and homes within walking distance, because everything is contained in far-flung strip malls and subdivisions. Really, they can scarcely even be called communities, because their individual pieces are so disconnected from one another, they’re not functioning as a cohesive whole.
Kunstler pointed out that America is in a particularly bad spot, because no other country has produced as much suburban sprawl as us, with such a pervasive habit of metaphorically torching our cities as we retreat. Sure, some urban communities remain as intact as ever, and gentrification has breathed new life into formerly abandoned spaces, but so many cities still have cores that have become mere shells—ghost towns littered with crumbling infrastructures, debris, and pollution. They’d need a lot of work before they could sustain a population fleeing from the suburbs. Europe, said Kunstler, is in a better position to survive, because their sprawl is limited, their cities were never forsaken, and most cities and towns have strong agricultural areas not far beyond their borders. Plus they have excellent public transportation, so when oil reserves are too low to give the average person access, people will still be able to get from Point A to Point B.
It got me thinking about my own home, and how I’m in one of those soulless, sprawling suburbs, 23 miles away from my office. In a perfect world, I would’ve been able to buy a home within walking distance of my office or within the DC city limits, but neither was an affordable option for me. So out, out, out I went. And while Frederick is a great city—very community-minded and independent (its residents don’t think of themselves as being in a DC suburb)—I couldn’t afford any non-ghetto houses/condos there, either (downtown, I mean). So I’m outside the city, in a development full of condos and McTownhouses, not near a train station, dependent on my car. In a post-fossil fuel world, I’d be kind of fucked. But then again, if I changed to a local job and got a bike, I could bike to work and bike to downtown Frederick where I could find food and supplies. I imagine the city would handle a post-fossil fuel world surprisingly well, since it already has a wealth of local businesses (not just big-box chain stores in suburban strip malls), a farmer’s market, and agricultural areas.
If you want to learn more about the looming oil crisis; get a thorough, eye-opening overview of fossil fuels, alternative fuels, and the intricate codependency between fossil fuels and modern life; and get scared out of your pants, then I recommend checking out this book.
Anyway, moving on. I know I’ve been M.I.A. lately. A number of major changes are going on at work, leaving me nervous and withdrawn. And freelancing has been hectic, with several tight deadlines hitting at once. Still, things are pretty good for the most part. My mom and aunt visited from out of state over Mother’s Day weekend and I had a lot of fun during their visit. The highlight was when they joined my sister and me for a Mother’s Day brunch at Isabella’s, a superb tapas restaurant in downtown Frederick. Afterwards we wandered through the boutiques downtown, but it was rainy and chilly and not the best day for leisurely strolling around.
This past weekend’s weather was much better, and although much of my time was spent confined indoors, working on freelancing, I did escape for a bit on Saturday to attend a lovely garden party at an ex-coworker’s house. And more of my wood laminate floors were installed on Sunday, leaving me gleefully giddy with excitement.
We’re shifting into a long holiday weekend that’s supposed to have stellar weather. I won’t be traveling anywhere (no beach for me, unfortunately), but I do intend to kick freelancing aside for a little while to A) check out the hiking trails at Monocacy National Battlefield (I’ve heard they’re great), and B) spend some time truly exploring Frederick: photographing the old buildings, learning my way around, poking around all the cool shops, checking out the graves at historic Mt. Olivet Cemetery, and buying birthday presents for a friend.
song heard most recently before posting:
Hometown Glory—Adele
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Is God up there?
I’ve been alarmingly over-obsessed with the Fritzl case lately. Maybe I’m just a ghoul, or maybe reincarnation really does exist and this case is striking a note with me because of something I endured in a past life. (Christ, I hope not!)
I’ve seen some uncomfortably tasteless remarks about the case online. Look, I can be as snarky and inappropriate as the next gal, but joking about other people’s traumas is way over the line. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think kidnapping, rape, incest, and being forced to live in a dungeon for years is particularly amusing. The least the public can do is show Elisabeth and her children some fucking respect.
While the mocking jokesters online got to spend their twenties and thirties leading a normal life—going to parties, hanging out with friends, dating, drinking too much, gaining their independence, getting married, going on vacations, etc.—Elisabeth spent her twenties and thirties condemned to a hellish prison, immersed in a horror movie that boggles the imagination. Her youth—her formative years—were wrenched from her in the cruelest possible way. She couldn’t even use suicide as an escape, because doing so would mean leaving her kids alone with their monster father.
And those kids of hers…my god. The youngest is close in age to my niece. I think of all the things Olivia has experienced in her life so far (she’s even been to Disney World twice; I’ve never even been there once!) and how little Felix never got to experience even the smallest of those moments: making snow angels, attending a friend’s birthday party, playing with pets.
Realizing what has been stolen from those three kids is almost more than the mind can process. Yes, they had a TV and VCR, so yes, they’ve technically seen what exists in the real world. But we all know that seeing something on TV isn’t the same thing as seeing it in real life; it really doesn’t even count. I saw the Alps on TV before I got to see them in real life, and let me tell you, the former experience doesn’t hold a fucking candle to the latter. Case in point: one Daily Mail report says:
Another report said:
Even the simplest, most commonplace sights fill them with wonder. So, disregarding whatever they’ve seen on TV over the years, let’s think for a minute about all the things denied to these children.
Aside from the biggies, like freedom and fresh air, there are a billion little things that we take for granted every day. These kids have never seen the moon, sun, stars, rainbows, or clouds. They’ve never seen a thunderstorm or falling rain or bright autumn foliage. They’ve never seen birds flying overhead. They’ve never felt the refreshment of the warm sun on a cool day or a cool breeze on a warm day. They’ve never walked barefoot through soft grass. They’ve never even seen grass. They’ve never watched fireworks. They’ve never been to the movies. They’ve never seen sleek horses grazing in a field or fish and ducks swimming in a pond. They’ve never seen or petted dogs and cats. They’ve never been swimming or splashed in a puddle. They live in Austria—land of the Alps—and yet they’ve never seen mountains or snow. They’ve never been sledding or played in the snow. They’ve never ridden an amusement park ride. They’ve never been shopping. They’ve never used a telephone or a computer. They’ve never seen or smelled flowers. They’ve never gone for a walk or run with abandon. They’ve never seen butterflies and fireflies. They’ve never seen a Christmas tree glistening with lights.
Their dungeon life has contained no gardens, libraries, friends, parties, restaurants, or sunsets. The teens have never experienced standard rites of passage like attending sleepovers and friends’ parties, dating and falling in love, driving a car, getting a summer job, testing parental boundaries.
Think of the freedoms you’re able to exercise every single day. Think of the choices you’re allowed to make. You can lock yourself in a room or let yourself out. You can choose to venture outside or stay indoors. You can wear what you want and eat what you want.
The tiniest spark of good news? The kids have youth on their side and their mom does, too. She lost her formative years, but at 42, she’s still young enough to have many years of joy and exploration ahead of her, if she’s not too damaged to embrace them. Kerstin and Stefan lost their childhood, but at least they didn’t emerge from their prison at, like, age 95. At least there is still time for them to hopefully learn how to forge connections with other people, make friends, gain independence, see more of the world, and fall in love. The same goes for Elisabeth.
I just hope they’re able to survive this trauma and regain the dignity that was stolen from them by their father.
song heard most recently before posting:
New Year’s Day—U2
I’ve seen some uncomfortably tasteless remarks about the case online. Look, I can be as snarky and inappropriate as the next gal, but joking about other people’s traumas is way over the line. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think kidnapping, rape, incest, and being forced to live in a dungeon for years is particularly amusing. The least the public can do is show Elisabeth and her children some fucking respect.
While the mocking jokesters online got to spend their twenties and thirties leading a normal life—going to parties, hanging out with friends, dating, drinking too much, gaining their independence, getting married, going on vacations, etc.—Elisabeth spent her twenties and thirties condemned to a hellish prison, immersed in a horror movie that boggles the imagination. Her youth—her formative years—were wrenched from her in the cruelest possible way. She couldn’t even use suicide as an escape, because doing so would mean leaving her kids alone with their monster father.
And those kids of hers…my god. The youngest is close in age to my niece. I think of all the things Olivia has experienced in her life so far (she’s even been to Disney World twice; I’ve never even been there once!) and how little Felix never got to experience even the smallest of those moments: making snow angels, attending a friend’s birthday party, playing with pets.
Realizing what has been stolen from those three kids is almost more than the mind can process. Yes, they had a TV and VCR, so yes, they’ve technically seen what exists in the real world. But we all know that seeing something on TV isn’t the same thing as seeing it in real life; it really doesn’t even count. I saw the Alps on TV before I got to see them in real life, and let me tell you, the former experience doesn’t hold a fucking candle to the latter. Case in point: one Daily Mail report says:
When Felix first looked at the moon on his release, he asked his rescuers: “Is God up there?”
And when he saw the sun he was even more excited, making a squeaking noise and trying to look directly at it through his fingers.
Doctors said that since he came out he is in a constant state of excitement. When he saw a cow for the first time in his life he excitedly made “gurgling noises,” but when police took him in a lift he was petrified and clung on to his mother as the floor moved.
Another report said:
The police who took Stefan and Felix to the reunion with their other siblings were the first strangers the boys had ever seen. The pair had never been in a car and whooped with excitement as the vehicle set off, as if they were on a fairground ride. Etz said: “They were amazed at the speed and really excited. They had never known anything like it – they had only ever seen cars on TV in the dungeon. Little Felix was beside himself with excitement. He was shrieking with pleasure when he saw cars coming the other way. He and his brother braced themselves whenever a car went past. They kept thinking there was going to be a head-on crash. They were fascinated by the headlights and were shouting and hiding behind the seats.”
Even the simplest, most commonplace sights fill them with wonder. So, disregarding whatever they’ve seen on TV over the years, let’s think for a minute about all the things denied to these children.
Aside from the biggies, like freedom and fresh air, there are a billion little things that we take for granted every day. These kids have never seen the moon, sun, stars, rainbows, or clouds. They’ve never seen a thunderstorm or falling rain or bright autumn foliage. They’ve never seen birds flying overhead. They’ve never felt the refreshment of the warm sun on a cool day or a cool breeze on a warm day. They’ve never walked barefoot through soft grass. They’ve never even seen grass. They’ve never watched fireworks. They’ve never been to the movies. They’ve never seen sleek horses grazing in a field or fish and ducks swimming in a pond. They’ve never seen or petted dogs and cats. They’ve never been swimming or splashed in a puddle. They live in Austria—land of the Alps—and yet they’ve never seen mountains or snow. They’ve never been sledding or played in the snow. They’ve never ridden an amusement park ride. They’ve never been shopping. They’ve never used a telephone or a computer. They’ve never seen or smelled flowers. They’ve never gone for a walk or run with abandon. They’ve never seen butterflies and fireflies. They’ve never seen a Christmas tree glistening with lights.
Their dungeon life has contained no gardens, libraries, friends, parties, restaurants, or sunsets. The teens have never experienced standard rites of passage like attending sleepovers and friends’ parties, dating and falling in love, driving a car, getting a summer job, testing parental boundaries.
Think of the freedoms you’re able to exercise every single day. Think of the choices you’re allowed to make. You can lock yourself in a room or let yourself out. You can choose to venture outside or stay indoors. You can wear what you want and eat what you want.
The tiniest spark of good news? The kids have youth on their side and their mom does, too. She lost her formative years, but at 42, she’s still young enough to have many years of joy and exploration ahead of her, if she’s not too damaged to embrace them. Kerstin and Stefan lost their childhood, but at least they didn’t emerge from their prison at, like, age 95. At least there is still time for them to hopefully learn how to forge connections with other people, make friends, gain independence, see more of the world, and fall in love. The same goes for Elisabeth.
I just hope they’re able to survive this trauma and regain the dignity that was stolen from them by their father.
song heard most recently before posting:
New Year’s Day—U2
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