Monday, October 05, 2020
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Our First Catskill 3500+
We ascended our first 3500'+ Catskill High Peak yesterday, Windham High Peak. It's the northernmost 3500, but it's one of the least high summits--it's only 3,525' (although our elevation gain was ~1,200' in a couple miles).
We thought it might be a good one to begin on, and it's very early in the season. Temps were in the forties at the trailhead, though at least ten degrees cooler at the summit. Low cloud ceiling, too, but an amazing view nonetheless. It was a very wet hike, this early in the season.
A little way in to the hike, there is a patch of old-growth forest, which is rare to see around here--even in the Catskills. It was much . . . darker than the photo seems to suggest. The word "primeval" fits; it felt sacred, otherwordly.
Views from the top . . .
Summit!
It was a great hike, overall, and a lot of exercise, even if it was an "easy" Catskill.
We thought it might be a good one to begin on, and it's very early in the season. Temps were in the forties at the trailhead, though at least ten degrees cooler at the summit. Low cloud ceiling, too, but an amazing view nonetheless. It was a very wet hike, this early in the season.
Saw a cool tree-burl-kinda-thing early on in the hike. |
A little way in to the hike, there is a patch of old-growth forest, which is rare to see around here--even in the Catskills. It was much . . . darker than the photo seems to suggest. The word "primeval" fits; it felt sacred, otherwordly.
Looking south-ish |
|
Summit!
US Geo Survey Triangulation Benchmark |
USGS Summit Benchmark |
Fitbit says I climbed 142 flights of stairs . . . |
GPS overview of post-hike route |
Saturday, March 25, 2017
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Wherein I freak out a little . . .
I gotta be honest, I’m pretty
freaked out by what’s happening in the U.S. It’s a litany of terrible things
happening every day—not even one new terrible thing every day, but
several.
I don’t even know where to start. I
believe in the scientific method, empirical evidence, logic, supporting one’s
positions with objective facts and evidence. I believe that people should be
treated equally under the law. I believe that all people are not, as a
practical matter, treated equally. Part of the reason for this is the profound
income inequality that exists in the U.S., part of it is systemic oppression,
and a whole host of other reasons; it’s comorbid, it’s multifactorial. I
believe—and this one is pretty radical—that,
due to these inequalities, in a civilized
society, we all should support and contribute to programs we all benefit from.
I support economic safety nets,
like welfare, social security, and universal healthcare; safety and health
regulations for workers and consumers, like OSHA, FLSA, the EPA, the EEOC, the
FTC, the FAA, the FCC, the FDA, the NLRB, ; unions; paid family leave; anti-trust
and monopoly laws; public schools; a movement toward free or deeply-subsidized
university education for all citizens; NEA and NEH; PBS; environmental
protections; freedom of the press . . . you probably get the idea, though I
could probably go on and on and on.
All of these
things are under assault right now. Steve Bannon, another fucking monster
watching over the President’s shoulder, is on record saying that he is “a
Leninist” who wants to “. . . destroy the state . . . I want to bring
everything crashing down, and destroy all of today’s establishment.”
And we are seeing exactly that.
An Attorney General (Sessions) with
a damning record on civil rights issues. A Secretary of Education who lacks any
experience with education and who wants charter schools and vouchers. An
EPA-head (Pruitt) who has deep and long-term ties to the fossil-fuel industry.
An insane also-ran-for-prez, Ben Carson, for Housing and Urban Development,
with zero experience in anything even vaguely related to the position for which
he’s been tapped. It’s like a bizarro-world where throwing darts or rolling
dice for the picks would have made as much or more sense.
A President who watches TV in the
evenings and mornings and then launches a volley of incoherent tweets based on
his channel-flipping.
Who complains on Twitter about a
department store dropping his daughter’s brand.
Who refuses to say anything about
the rapidly-increasing threats to Jews and Synagogues, and when it’s clear that
he must say something, he reads
a statement from a podium, barely looking up to make eye contact with the
people covering the event.
Who attacks the credibility of a
native-born Federal Court Judge and impugns his ability to be fair, because he
is “Mexican.”
Who calls legitimate news “fake”
when the media outlets do not fawn over his every decision.
Who signed an ill-conceived and
poorly-executed executive order banning Muslims from some countries from
traveling to the U.S.
Who has admitted to sexual assault
(and who has been accused, in sworn testimony, by his previous wife, of raping
her).
Who wants to increase our stockpile
of “nukes” so that we're the biggest, baddest dog in town. (And this coming from a guy who had to
ask--HE HAD TO ASK--"if we have nukes, why can't we use them?")
Who has the attention-span of a ferret high on
methamphetamine.
Who cannot even parse the questions
being asked of him and so responds with nonsense that bubbles up from his ego
and need to be always self-aggrandizing.
I mean, this is not a comprehensive
list, you know? I could spend a few hours typing up all the stuff. Just look at
the EOs to date, or other lists of the ongoing insanity.
But it has led to a point, for me,
where I feel completely
demoralized. The current administration is doing their damnedest to roll back
all of the progress that has occurred in the past two terms, and more.
I have always been aware that the
U.S., for all its “freedoms,” is also a deeply problematic construct, in
practice. The ideal is many things, some of which we strive for and some of
which are simply propaganda, a false grand narrative we always already bought
into. Our foreign policy is one that has created enemies all over the world. We
enjoy a high standard of living, in some cases at the cost of other peoples’
lives (and if we didn't, your iPhone would cost $2000). We accidentally kill
women and children in other countries, written off as “collateral damage.”
And I admit, in the past, I didn’t
have to worry about a lot of stuff, politically-speaking, because I was
comfortable inhabiting a position of privilege. I didn’t have to worry about
being shot by a cop at a traffic stop. I didn’t have to concern myself with
being clocked and followed around in a store. I didn’t have to think about not
being listened to, or taken seriously when I spoke, in social, academic, or
vocational arenas—or any others.
So I apologize for being less of an
ally than I could have been. Now I want to be an advocate, I want to be an
ally, I want to support people who are at risk to be deeply hurt by the
positions this administration is taking.
But. The demoralization . . . it’s
. . . powerful. It’s so bleak. That people even exist that
support this administration and the ideals they hold is completely terrifying
to me. It is so callous, so cold.
I find myself vacillating between
wanting to seek out better, more progressive places to relocate to, or,
alternately, stocking up on preserved food; buying a long gun, a shotgun, an
AR-15, a concealed carry permit, and a Sig-Sauer or a Glock; packing a bugout
bag, and literally
heading for the hills. That sounds . . . crazy, probably. Yet no less true
for that. How bad is it going to get? All these people need is an attack on
American soil, either because it will, of course, happen eventually, or because
they employ Agents
Provocateurs to do some dirty work. And then panic, an excuse to declare
martial law, and . . . “Papieren, bitte.”
I hope it won't come to that. I
hope that 1984 and The Handmaid's Tale and The Man in the High
Castle and The Road and Mockingjay aren't as relevant right
now as I fear they are.
Monday, February 20, 2017
Sacred Geometry
So I’ve been drawing a bit lately. I don’t consider myself
particularly talented when it comes to “art,” at least with respect to graphic
art, but I certainly appreciate art
and design. I bought a 9 x 12-inch sketch pad of 60 lb. fine-toothed paper, and a
bunch of other stuff (new compass, erasers, protractors, straightedges, etc.) from
Michaels a few months ago. I’ve been
drawing mostly with a compass and straightedge; variations of overlapping
circles grids, i.e. flowers-of-life,
Metatron’s
Cubes, et cetera.
This kind of thing. |
There is something very relaxing about drawing with
mechanical pencils (primary weapon of choice is a Pentel P205, 0.5 mm), and there’s something compelling about geometry,
particularly “sacred”
geometry. I’m not—and never have been—talented mathematically, either, but
I can easily see how the universe (as we perceive and understand it) can be
interpreted through math. All one need do is look at the fractal branching of a
tree, or the curve
of a nautilus shell, or the Mandelbrot-set-beauty-ad-infinitum of a Romanesco Broccoli head, to see it play out. Or one can look to more ephemeral things:
the Brownian motion of white cream poured into hot, black coffee, the swirling
and rolling and rising curls of beige; exhaled cigarette smoke or wisps of hot
breath in the winter; the sinusoidal crests and troughs of lake- or sea-waves
lapping or crashing onto shore; the invisible
ellipses of the planets’ or satellites’ orbits . . . it’s everywhere,
really. Math is an esoteric and occult language to me, but no less compelling
for that. I admit it’s a little bit like knowing a few words in a foreign
language—in this case, a language that is inherently magical.
The things I’ve been drawing are really variations of the
themes mentioned above; iterations of overlapping circles, and as I’ve been making
new drawings, I’ve been slowly increasing the complexity, sort of testing the
limits of what I can do. A lot of it, more recently, has been inflected by the
additional motif of the four (or five) classical elements (again, depending on
which tradition one is aligning with) of air, fire, earth, and water (and
sometimes “æther” or “spirit” or whatever). I’m not religious, and in fact I
consider myself an atheist, but the symbology resonates with me. The
ontological / cosmological / epistemological questions we all have are
ever-present and the world and everything in it are manifestations of the
questions, and at the same time, partial answers to those questions.
The universe is, simultaneously, mystery and revelation.
I sit at my desk and draw, stepping out circles,
circumscribing questions, demarcating answers. The pencil makes a satisfying
scrape across the paper when traveling along a straightedge connecting
vertices, and a soft shushing when shading in a section.
My father was really good at math—he was an Engineer working
for the Long
Island Lighting Company (subsequently LIPA, KeySpan energy) for most of my
childhood. He was involved in the design of the Shoreham
Nuclear Power Plant, and took me there as a child to see it, both during
construction and later, when it was undergoing initial testing. It was as cool
as you might imagine.
Robert Sherwood (dad) at Drawing Board |
I have his old drafting materials now; high-end German
compasses, triangles, an eraser-shield, a slide rule, Vernier calipers (not
quite a drafting tool, admittedly),
all sorts of stuff. He taught me to use a compass when I was ten or so. I
remember him guiding my hand, showing me how to draw “flowers” using the
compass, stepping out the angles of the circle using its radius, then
connecting the six sections with arcs. I remember my amazement at how . . . exact it was, and how elegant.
One of dad's compass sets. |
That was a beginning, a brief moment of satori, a little flash of insight. It was a seed, a spark, an
exposure, illuminating that which lies behind or under the plain truth of things.
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