MODERN FABLE: THE INTUITIVE TOMATO PLANT

J.Kristin

There exists a special tomato plant variety that learns the needs of the family who planted it based on how often the fruit is picked. This is not a "frankenmater" produced in some Silicon Valley AI lab, with generations of genetically enhanced, nano chip algorithm infused plants. No, it is more of an understanding between species: we provide favorable growing conditions of sun, soil and water and in return, the plant provides fruit that we can eat. In this case, this particular variety senses how much to produce and one must consider that this action might (at least to put it into human terms) instill a sense of satisfaction. They are neither servile or the victims of bullying, this is simply what they do. Their lives last only a season, arcing from the cool nights of their seedling planting, to their first flowering and first fruiting, to the full muscular production of progeny that slowly wanes in the September sun, ending with the first killing frosts. 

We could do worse with our own lives.

GRATEFULNESS

Listen to me: for one moment, quit being sad. Hear blessing dropping their blossoms around you. God.

                                             -Rumi, 13th Century Persian poet

A DOSE OF SCIENCE: TREES AND WIND

Windy days are when trees weight train. Researchers at Biosphere 2 in Arizona found that trees grown inside the dome would not fully mature and eventually collapse under their own weight. The reason for this failure, researchers discovered, was due to the fact there is no wind inside the dome. An article in the webmag Awesci by Anupum Pant explains:

In the biosphere 2, they had trees growing faster than they would grow in the wild. Also, they found that these trees wouldn’t completely mature. Before they could, they used to collapse. Later it was found that this was caused by the lack of wind in the biosphere. And it turns out, wind plays a major role in a trees life. The presence of wind makes a tree stronger, it is thus able to mature and not fall down due to its own weight.

When plants and trees grow in the wild, the wind constantly keeps them moving. This causes a stress in the wooden load bearing structure of the tree. So, to compensate, the tree manages to grow something called the reaction wood (or stress wood). This stress wood usually has a different structure (in terms of cellulose or lignin content and more) and is able to position the tree where it’d get the best light, or other optimum resources. This is the reason why trees are able to contort towards best light and still survive loads in even awkward shapes. A contorted building like that would easily fall. The tree is able to grow in a more solid manner – thanks to the reaction wood.

BLAST FROM THE PAST

My dear old friend Karen dug up the following satire about Chernobyl and sent it to me. I have no memory of writing this. We were working together at the Lansing Art Gallery and since I mention PBS, I would put the date of writing circa 1991. The program Nova had a show on the 5th anniversary of the event in that year. Gosh, 30 years ago! Not sure what triggered my writing this, perhaps stories of nuclear accident tourists as the opening line alludes to. This seems to be instructions from some local entity hustling adrenaline junkies who wanted to clandestinely enter the forbidden zone.

I have done some slight editing.

 A word to those willing to enter this area...

We won't go into the scientific jabberwocky concerning the threat to human well-being on the other side of this door: to be direct, it's pretty damn scary. However, for those who saw the PBS shows on Chernobyl and are just itching to experience it in person, here are some guidelines to gauge the length of your stay. These guidelines are based upon the experiences of several mice we sent in. They all died, but since their metabolism is so much faster than ours, use the ratio of the average mouse lifespan to that of an average human male...Well, we were going to keep this simple weren't we? For those who wish to use math not touched since high school, be our guest. 

Chernobyl Exposure Guidelines

Low Exposure

1-5 minutes  

You will receive a nice warm glow. Like you have run around the block a few times.

6-15 minutes

Your friends will wonder where you vacationed to get such a nice tan. Protect those tender spots!

Moderate to High Exposure

16-23 minutes

Ouch! 3rd degree burns, permanent markings where clothing ends and exposed flesh begins. Could begin a new trend, could be embarrassing.

24-30 minutes 

Ladies, toss out your birth control and monthly feminine products, you're sterilized! Sorry guys, you're out to pasture as steers.

Lethal exposure

31-35 minutes

You are a walking X-ray! Entertain others by eating and drinking-all can see your bodily functions.

36 minutes +

You join the mice.

We hope that you read these guidelines with care and remember that exposure does add up over time. So, if you gotta visit this place, we advise that you get in and get out in a prudent manner. 

 

Editor's note: curiously, no mention of the correlation between the above time frames and how close one is to ground zero! 50 yards vs 2 miles can make quite a difference in lifespan and the kind of cancers you run the risk of getting!

SATURDAY NIGHT MUSIC: "RUBY" BY ALI FARKA TOURE AND TOUMANI DIABATE

MODERN PARABLE: THE UNIVERSE TAKES CARE OF ASSHOLES

 A charismatic Pentecostal couple were unpleasantly surprised when, upon their deaths and despite their Christian piety, find themselves reincarnated. They had been quite wealthy, part of the new elite in Atlanta and enthusiastic adherents of the Prosperity Gospel that became quite popular in the 1980's. The fortune was made in supplements (wife) and real estate (husband) and the couple lived in a lavish 7,000 square foot penthouse in Buckhead. 

The wife awoke on a piece of cardboard, on the sidewalk, in front of a restaurant. Groggy from the transformation, it took her awhile to grasp where she was. When she finally came to her senses, she was shocked to see that she was across the street from where she had lived. She was in front of Cracco's, her favorite Italian place. So convenient! Within staggering distance from home, her husband used to say. Looking at her old place, she could see the Negro doorman, Williams, who was shooing ragged people away from the steps of the tower. They were also on her side of the street, shuffling, coughing. "Where did these people come from? In Buckhead of all places?" she thought. She had never seen them before.

The husband fared far worse. Arrogant, racist, homophobic, he awoke to find himself lying naked on a bed in a dimly lit "room" that actually was a curtained off area in a large room. The place smelled of BO and he heard grunting and groaning that eventually registered as of a sexual nature. Suddenly, a man appeared at the side of the bed, grabbed the husband roughly about the head and forced it to his crotch. The husband vomited, the man yelled in anger as another man appeared. This man took off his belt and began to beat the husband across the shoulders while yelling at him. He was the pimp, quite unhappy about the incident but determined not to strike the head, not wanting to mar the husband's "pretty face." Somehow, the husband understood the language and finally, looking at his hands realizes in horror that he was a black gay male prostitute in Nairobi.

One guiding principle in life is that one should not worry about the bastards of this world getting their comeuppance: the Universe will take care of their sorry asses. One has to have patience, though. Sometimes it's a case of instant karma, sometimes it takes a lifetime even while tremendous harm is being done. 

For our couple in today's tale, perhaps if they had remembered Luke 16:24, they might not have suffered their fate.

COVID MEMORIAL IN WASHINGTON, DC

 

(Bill Clark/CQ Roll Call)

 

Volunteers plant white flags on the National Mall on Wednesday for the "In America: Remember" public art installation by artist Suzanne Brennan Firstenberg commemorating all Americans who have died from COVID-19. The names of the dead are printed on each flag.

 

(Joshua Roberts/Reuters)

 

The total is now over 670,000. 

 

The undertaking is the largest participatory art installation on the Mall since the AIDS Memorial Quilt in 1987. And as Sandburg alludes to in the final lines, what will we collectively learn from this enormous loss and will we apply it to the next outbreak event? Or will much be forgotten, ignored, willfully secreted? There'll just be the grass.

 

Grass

Carl Sandburg

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.

Shovel them under and let me work—

                                          I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg

And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.

Shovel them under and let me work.

Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:

                                          What place is this?

                                          Where are we now?

                                          I am the grass.

                                          Let me work.

UNCLE JEFF DOES GOOD!!

 

Yepper, when the coffee maker broke and we were awaiting the free replacement to arrive, I did what makes our species so successful: I improvised. We like our cup of Joe in the morning.

1-pyrex measuring cup

1-large strainer

Grind coffee as normal. Place coffee and filter into the strainer. Nuke water in coffee cup for 2-3 minutes or until boiling. Carefully pour water into the filter. It will take a few minutes to percolate into the measuring cup. Repeat 2-3 times. Set strainer in bowl and pour coffee into cup. Enjoy!

Many thanks to Chester, the Cannabis Catter aka C³ for his display help.

MY NOMINATION FOR THE DARWIN AWARDS

 

From the website: The Darwin Awards salute the improvement of the human genome by honoring those who accidentally remove themselves from it in a spectacular manner!

My nomination criteria is a tad different: people who take themselves out of the gene pool because they refuse to be vaccinated against the Covid virus and die because their behavior is based on belief in fake news, hatred of science, mindless fealty to bat shit crazy politicians, adherence to Christian evangelical death cults and a bizarre application of Patrick Henry's "give me liberty or give me death."

These idiots are still dropping like flies especially in states ruled by the Republicans or in areas loyal to The Former Guy. It ain't gonna stop, either. Ninth wave, Fifteenth wave. There will be no herd immunity, just all the dumbasses die off and what will be left are those vaccinated. 

For those who pray: hope the vaccine science is sound and the research not all fucked up because everything was rushed and folks were hysterical. Otherwise, we all get to be part of yet another historical event: the largest mass poisoning in history.

END OF SUMMER FARE

J. Kristin

Tasty sandwich with the last of this season's tomatoes. Sourdough bread toasted, boursin cheese with a few drops of milk to make it more spreadable, tomato and whole basil leaves. Oh man, so many levels of flavor!

BIRTH DAY

C.Caesar/J.Kristin

67 years old

JUST WHAT WE FUCKING NEED

Add this to the list of worthless projects that are attracting a lot of funding from people who have more money than sense: the creation of AI sensient beings and missions to the Moon and Mars. $15 million bucks of initial investment dollars to bring back woolly mammoths from extinction. Why, why, why? You could feed a lot of people with $15 million. Of course, no worries about unintended consequences. Why no, it's a massive ego project, done because they can. WTF.

Maybe they're good as BBQ

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/09/13/science/colossal-woolly-mammoth-DNA.html

 

REFLECTIONS ON RETAIL HELL FOR LABOR DAY (BELATED)

 

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn breathing the air of freedom after his exile to Vermont in 1976,  thankful that he had a good day job without having to work at Kmart.

Earlier this summer I shopped at Horrocks Market and was checked out by a young woman. She was part of a crop of new hires, kids that had just graduated and working at Horrocks for their summer job before college. She was friendly and outgoing, eager and engaged with her job. Later on the drive home, I thought about my years in retail hell.

For some reason I thought of  a chapter in Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's novel The Gulag Archipelago whose title was First Cell, First Love. Yes, the first job in retail as a cashier. It's all new and a bit exciting. All the people you get to meet and you get paid for it. What a grown-up! I thought fondly of such sweetness and innocence and remembered I was once like that. 

My thoughts darkened and shifted to another Solzhenitsyn work: One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. Memories of the later years: day to day dreariness; the indifferent and often mean-spirited managers who did what they did because they could; the bizarre variety of human nature from person to person and the quiet anxiety of not knowing what they would be like. Crappy work, crappy pay, never two days off in a row, working holidays. But, I remind myself, unlike Soviet prisoners, I was there by choice. No one put a gun to my head. Yet still, for those who stay in retail, moving from company to company is akin to the Solzhenitsyn book only titled The Retail Archipelago. Nothing really changes, just some differences in uniform, weird company specific rules, maybe a slight change of customer demographic.  

I shifted to some humor for relief: Sayaka Murata's Convenience Store Woman which contains this gem: You don't have to be autistic to work here, but it helps. Gawd, ain't that the truth. This woman doesn't suffer.

I can only offer this for those beginning or contemplating working in retail: consider this a learning experience and a temporary one. In the end, if you have a whit of attention, you will realize that this is not what you want to do for a living.

HELL: NEW AND IMPROVED

 

MachoCarioca Wiki Commons

 

 

 

Joining the recent trend of wokeness in the corporate sector, Hell has announced a new program aimed at providing a more meaningful experience for it's residents. This new program aims to tailor punishments to each individual based on their former lives, ethnicity, belief systems and culture. "We've been behind the times" declared a senior Minion noting that in past centuries, Hell had a 'one size fits all' attitude except in special cases for famous people or those Satan took a special interest in. Insiders note that the push for these changes came from a new generation of  Minions who wanted to be more creative in their work. "Sure, it takes more time to come up with matching punishments with an individual's actions. Any schmo can burn in a pool of fire but with this program, it will be far more rewarding for the Minions" said one of the organizers. "You can really drill down into their deepest fears, shame and prejudices. It's a beautiful thing to witness."

In launching this massive undertaking, Hell has brought aboard thousands of Minions to research and advise more thoughtful and relevant tortures for residents. This new initiative carries a cheerful yet controversial tagline of "Different strokes for different folks." Some senior Minions grumbled about using a phrase from a non-resident. "It should have been from one of ours" said one. But others pointed out that Satan is a huge fan of Sly and the Family Stone and has always relished the phrase. "His tail really gets to whipping, when Sly comes up on the spinner and his eyes become brighter than usual. It truly makes his day."

THE CAT WHO KNOCKS

 

J. Kristin

This summer, Madame learned a new method of communicating with her dumb human roommates. If we are in the Great Room watching a film, when she wants in via the slider, she will tap the screen several times with her paw. HRH learned that Mom or Dad will hear this and honor her request (demand).

MOVIE: UNCLE BOONMEE WHO CAN RECALL HIS PAST LIVES

 

The Palme d'Or winner at 2010 Cannes Film Festival, the first Thai entry to do so.

An extraordinary art house film, both in content and visually, concerns the final days of Uncle Boonmee. He has a farm in the northeast Thailand region of Isan near the border with Laos. This culture while predominantly Buddhist, strongly retains and embraces ancient beliefs of ghosts, spirits, reincarnation, animism and transformation. One particular area foreign and shocking to Westerners, is the idea of inter-species Luv, which is quite taboo in Christian infused cultures. All these beliefs turn up throughout the film in a series of distinct segments that often occur abruptly. The story-telling is fairly straight forward. Be advised: in one section the acting seems quite wooden and languorous. The director said that he was pointing back to the early days of Thai TV of his youth with primitive production values and actors reading their lines in a rather deadpan manner.

One thing that struck C and I was the thought that in this culture, the appearance of a dead loved one at the dinner table is nothing unusual. "Oh hi, honey-haven't seen you in 12 years. Good to see you" could to be a common response. While in our culture, reactions to such an event would range from outright denial to concerns of localized mental aberrations to virulent hysteria. What a curious mind-set!  We had many moments such as this throughout the film. We also wondered if these recollections of Uncle were representative of Thai myths and folklore. Very much time for an edition of "Ask a Thai person" to verify this notion. 

There is just so much in this film: odd pacings and styles in some of the segments, extraordinary and mysterious happenings and for me, in one piece in particular, some of the most beautifully shot scenes I have ever seen. 

This as an adventure to a place so far removed in so many ways from our own and provides a snapshot into the soul of a very old tribe on the other side of the planet. Well worth your time.

 

SATURDAY NIGHT MUSIC: RAMSEY LEWIS "WADE IN THE WATER"

 

 

In celebration of my brother Mike's 76th birthday today, a classic 60's song that he turned me on to.

 

A fond memory I have is one summer afternoon either 1967 or 68, we hopped into your MG and drove off to visit Grandma K out on the farm. Mike had gotten back from 'Nam and had a day off from work. Off we went driving that beast, radio loud because of the road noise. It was a fun time with big brother. Grandma was surprised to see us and it might have been their first meeting since he got back. I don't know if this song played that day but I associate it with Mike and those years.

 

Happy Birthday, bro. I wish you many more. 

MOVIE: DIANI & DEVINE MEET THE APOCALYPSE

 

 

A very broad satire that comments on all sorts of things: the gig economy (which they are a part of but in an old fashioned meaning), zombie movies, end of the world dystopias. Their stand-up routine points back to vaudeville even with their physical beings-like Laurel and Hardy-one skinny and tall, the other plump, short and round. Add in a good dash of Cohen Bros zaniness (Raising AZ) and their penchant for putting their characters into bizarre situation. Another oddity: these guys, Etta Devine and Gabriel Diani are not mainstream. Yet they have this film like they're established stars akin to the Hope/Crosby "Road" movies. It's a strange flick but worth your time. From 2016.

J/C'S REST STOP

Stock photo

 

 

Late yesterday afternoon, a large group of sparrows stopped by. At any given time, there were 4-6 birds in the bird bath, 20 eating seeds under the feeder, 15-20 in the honeysuckle bushes in a rest/wait area ready to fly over to the feeder. It was like 3 group tour buses descending into a rest area that has a restaurant, hostel/hotel where folks could wash up. Having refueled and bathed, they left after a half hour. Hopefully, they will leave positive reviews on the animal Trip Advisor.

MADAME'S DINING PREFERENCE

The 18 year old dowager, Madame Molls, made it clear to staff that this Summer, she preferred to take her evening meal al fresco.

Madame demonstrating the Balasana pose during one of her Sun Yoga sessions.