I had the chance to enjoy an independent film with my Grandparents, Atlas Shrugged Part 1. This first installment of the trilogy of Ayn Rand's Epic, covered the entire plot up to Ellis Wyatt's Destruction of the Colorado Oil Fields.
Instead of making the story a period-piece, the director Paul Johansson contemporized the plot by setting the characters in 2016 after a war in the Middleast cuts off oil shippments to the West driving gas prices to $36 a gallon. Under this dystopian future scenario, the only feasible means of transportation of people and commodities is rail power. (Modern CSX freight trains can move 2,000lbs --907 kilograms-- 500 miles on one gallon of fuel) This allowed me as a admirer of Rand's Objectivism to suspend my disbelief and fall into the story.
Dagny, acted by Taylor Schilling, is just as brutal and sublime as the one conjured in my imagination the first time I read the novel. She faces the world and never backs down as her universe spirals out of control. The male leads were well acted and for the movie's small budget ($1o million) did not detract at all. Still it would have been really cool to have had Angelina Jolie and Brad Pit as the iconic Duo of Hank Rearden and Dangny Tagart. But contractual obligations prohibited it. The $1.7 million gross for the opening weekend may allow the productions costs to be covered but indicate that there will be no part 2 or climactic part 3.
I love the novel too much to offer an objective review of this "Objective-ly" awesome movie.
The obvious flaw in Objectivism still doesn't shade Rand's fun Novels. Check out Atlas Shrugged and the Fountainhead today.
Miles Biked:85.99 Total Miles:208.89 Stadium Stairs Run*:2244 Steep Steps Run*:1340 Days to Rainier:108 Summit Team:8 Aspirin Tablets:42
Woke feeling like crap today, called in sick to work. So I read all of Steinbeck's The Pearl and 1/3 of Alexis de Tocqueville's Democracy in America while trying not to think of throwing up. After recovering, I ran 7.07 miles.
Blog Outline:
I.Preparing to Build
II.Wedding
III.Night Hike
IV.Steven's Pass
V.The Pearl
VI.Democracy in America
VII. Super Awesome Good News
I.Week before last I was assigned the fun task of reading a book and summarizing it as part of my internship. The title was Preparing to Build. So I got to learn about how a church can first perform a successful feasibility study, set specific building goals, identify a specific vision, communicate this vision to the church body, raise funds, and then search for the land, designer, and builder for the new building. The non-disclosure forms I happily signed before beginning my internship deny me the pride-inducing revelation of why this book needed to be "cliff-noted" for the elders, but it's pretty sweet. I really appreciated learning and being honored to prepare this doc.
II.Two of my friends got married week before last, so I shaved off my beard and threw on my tux and shades. When I showed up to the wedding, only those who have spent a lot of time with me knew me (mainly just my community group). The rest who had just seen me around or briefly conversed with me didn't recognize me. I introduced myself to everyone as "Tony." I was amazed how many people bought the jesting false identity.
III.Two weeks ago I held my first group hike of 2011. I took 10 people up to the top of Tiger Mountain #2 and then on to #3. We gained and lost 2272 feet on our 4.56 mile round-trip. One of our hikers had some problems with her calf cramping up. But other than that we has great weather and even enjoyed 6 inches of wet snow on top of Tiger #2. The night started in dense fog, but we hiked above the clouds and saw out to a 25 mile horizon across the Kent valley to Federal Way from Tiger #2 and across Issaquah to Bellevue from Tiger #3. Check out the elevation profile:
(Kinda looks like a face...)
IV.Ronda in my community group invited the entire group up to her ex-husband's cabin in the mountains off highway 2. I got to meet him. You know how when you hear someone's story about how much a jerk someone else is, you think, "yeah, yeah everyone seems right until the other side is heard." We'll Ronda's side of the story was right. The cabin was amazing with a sweet pool table and being placed right on a river was blessed with a smooth continuous stream of conscious interrogatives from acqua pura punctuated rarely by the roar and whistle of a passing Northern Pacific train. I even got to ski! I really enjoy skiing;it is my favorite winter activity. The top of Steven's Pass Ski Resort is 5584ft. By weak-minded, stubborn, milquetoast blindness, I followed Lisa, Mackenzie, and David up to the peak which has only diamond and double diamond ski-runs to allow escape from such an alpine penitentiary. I crashed, slipped, and careened all morning until lunch with the CG, after which I gained more confidence and started cutting a decent rug on the snow-laced dance runs. A great weekend.
V.The Pearl by John Steinbeck is a masterpiece of a parable with apparent subtle hints of Marxian economics. However when you look deeper, Steinbeck's heart is dreadfully wounded by the plight of the poor in all times and in all places. He spent months in Baja California and made numerous friends with the poor locals of Mexico whose families had lived under subjugation for generations. For those who have read The Jungle, a fictional narrative starring Jurgis Rudkus, (blatantly false yet powerfully moving) written by Upton Sinclair, we all resonate with the passion to rise up and defend those who are taken advantage of and oppressed economically. I would argue that this sense of objective justice come from Jesus, God, who set THE knowledge of righteousness in every man's heart (though many intentionally pervert it). The Story of Kino, his wife Juana, and their infant Coyotito revolves around a poor family stricken by circumstance who are blessed with the gift of a singularly amazing pearl. They dream of all the innocent improvements that the money from the sale of the pearl will bring, little Coyotito can be the first one in the family to be educated; he can find out what is really in those books that the wealthy men speak of. They are plagued by thieves and cruel men intent on cheating them of this gift. Kino kills four men and looses his son all due to the greed the pearl inspires, the ending is very anti-climactic and left me facing my own greedy, wanton, fleshly desires to yearn for the precious. During the same time, J.R.R. Tolkien was writing his Lord of the Rings saga. These two stories show the all-too-twisted human nature that will go to any length to acquire the promise of a changed life...changed not on God's terms but rather on the self's terms. I guess I am confessing that I am a bit like the pearl dealers, Smeagol, and even Kino. Buy what is my great Pearl? Maybe it's my self-sufficiency or my desire for control over my life or my pursuit of comfort.
VI.I just brushed the surface of A. de Tocquville's political treatise on America in the 1830s, so I can't really comment on it, but I like his pursuit of objectivity in addressing the topic of what makes America tick.
VII.Oh what is the Great Super Awesome News? Well I am finally a master!!!!
No, I can't move objects using the mythical Force, shoot blue lightening from my fingertips, and fight impossible enemies with a light sabre, but I can crunch numbers faster than an African Swallow can carry a coconut to England so Monty Python can make weird little jokes about it.
In short I have just graduated from the University of Washington with a Master's Degree in Economics.
yeah!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Miles Run:111.29
Miles Biked:85.99 Total Miles:197.28 Stadium Stairs Run*:2244 Steep Steps Run*:1340 Days to Rainier:121 Summit Team:9 Aspirin Tablets:42
You know you have a problem when after a run you studiously enter all the way points into Google Earth and click "Show Elevation Profile" and get this: And then your like, "I ran 12.1 miles in three hours?" But I still had energy at the end, I could have run farther. When that happens, you have problems. Running is what you do in war, when bullets fly and your ears scream with the deafening roar of jet planes and the enemy's whizzing tracers cut laser-lines into your friends. Running is what you do when your son is in grave danger and you must snatch him out from the path of a barreling truck. Running is what you do when you see death coming for you and you thirst, you yearn, you passionately utterly maddeningly want to live. Running is not a fun...thing...to...do. So here I sit, body still high from the adrenaline kick, waiting for the heightened state to diminish, so I can sleep. As a side note, I decided to fill two of my hip flasks with water (my conventional water bottles just aren't comfortable to run with) and carry them with me. When taking hits (is it a hit, or is their another term for drinking from a flask?) from them down on Alki, no one seemed to care. But after running up near the Junction, I noticed a cop approaching just as I had paused for some water. I immediately tucked the flask into my elbow and did my best impression of a runner with a leg cramp until he drove past. I'd rather not have to explain, "No officer I am not consuming alcohol out of a hip flask in public, here smell, it's water....No, I'm not trying to get an officer of the law drunk while on duty...Do you really need to handcuff me before searching me?...!!!...Hi Bob...Yep it's my first time in lockup...Really you end up here every Wednesday night?..." The flasks may get me into trouble, but they are probably a better idea than my last run of 9+ miles where I hit cotton mouth at mile 6 and had to sneak water from someone's hose at 11pm just to make it home.
So I might as well tell you about what I did on Saturday night. I went to the ShowBox in SoDo to see a band oddly named the Dismemberment Plan. Now before you think, okay we all knew it would happen eventually, and finally Josh has snapped and is going off to some sick satanic band to quell the demons within. No, allow me to explain. This band saw the movie Ground Hog Day. Remember the insurance salesman Phil meets over and over? Well Ned Reirson is trying to sell insurance policies with optional death and dismemberment plan. So the band found a name. Flash 18 years forward the whole band is in their late 30s and decided to come back together to re-release their album Emergency & I purportedly one of the most influential albums in the late 90s early 2000s in the indie rock genre. To promote their release, they made one quick tour. Some shows in Japan, some shows in D.C. their home town, and ONE show on the west coast---Seattle. So I went. My buddy Joe introduced me to them back in college, and they have been with me ever since, rattling around my brain and popping out of my atonal mouth when I think no one is listening. TO YOU bearded muses! May you reign as indie rockers of indie rockers forever!
No Stats! So the movie True Grit...It is the latest Coen Brother's film (I have enjoyed their Oh Brother Where Art Thou?). I saw Grit last week with Greg (can believe I haven't seen that guy in 7 months! Dang, time just slips away sometimes. I need to warn you, I watched the movie with an empty stomach, so my recollections could be completely fallacious. My typically jarring and disonant style will be even more cacophonous than normal due to the distance between my viewing of the film and this review.
"This review"...now that's funny. This is not a review; this is a string of vaguely related memories and incongruent references to other movies, places, and books, so without further mumblings, I give you TRUE GRIT: The movie opens with this quote "The wicked flee when none pursueth."-Proverbs 28:1. This can be taken two ways, either the pursuers are of no consequence or there are no good people in the movie and all are fleeing from nothing. The story is of a little (in years but not in guts and common sense) girl whose father is murdered by a field hand who has a long history of murder and theft. She goes to town to see to her father's affairs. We are introduced to Mattie Ross when she goes to see the man who her father had just bought some ponies from. She negotiates through tortious-threat and continual appeals to his self-interest and totally dominates the negotiations getting an amazing deal for the loss of her father's horse stolen by Chaney, her father's killer. It is obvious that she is tough and very intelligent from this point (she reminds me of two people who have crossed my road, that blend of steel and love is rare). She nets $300 which enables her to hire Rooster Cogburn a man who she says has "True Grit". He is an alcoholic marshall for hire who over the course of his colorful career admitted to killing 24 men bound by law. He is a man lacking any ruth. Which coincidentally is a book I just read. Are their subtle literary and socio-political parallels between this ancient text and the post-modern telling of a 1870 tale of justice? Well...Um...since you are the one who asked...Now remember you are at fault for asking...Not me...I have no blame in this, but here goes: In Ruth, there is a man named Boaz. He dares to redeem the widow Ruth who is a foreigner who was converted to the Hebrew faith, loyally served her destitute mother-in-law Naomi, and traveled a long distance to a strange new land in hopes of fresh opportunity. The whole story is one of the faithfulness of God and the redemption of a desperate woman from tragedy into the most important family line in history. You see she is the great great...great grand mother of Jesus the Christ. The whole book is a slow progression starting with the sad death of Naomi's two sons and the resulting poverty. Through several unlikely and providential events Boaz enters the scene and serves and defends the women until at the very end (right when you ask, "Okay that was a nice story but what is the point?") the curtain is pulled back and we see that this Ruth is the grandmother of King David. In True Grit, this young "Ruth" faces a horrible tragedy with stolid determination. Her father's money is stolen, her provider and protector is gone. She travels from the family's distant homestead to town in hopes of setting things to right. The whole system is against her, the sheriff says the criminal is long gone into the winderness of the indian lands and is unlikely to be brought to justice. She doggedly pursues justice and finds an unlikely "Boaz" in the one-eyed marshall. She hires him and by pure courage joins him in the pursuit of justice for her father. A Texas ranger, who is also in the hunt for Chaney the murderer, crosses their path (played by Matt Damon a drawling caricature of the Lone Star's gunslingers). They work to track the evil doer and serve justice at the point of a six-gun. Through purely providential means they find Chaney and his gang. The first of the movie's three climaxes shows the marshall facing down four armed men alone in an open field. Up to this point, the stories he has told Mattie seem like braggadocious hubris. But we see the true grit of this man when he charges all four outlaws on horse back with reigns in his teeth and a big iron in each fist. He kills three and the fourth shoots his horse down pinning the lawman. The shot-up ranger sights in his "Sharp's Carbine...a weapon of uncanny power and precision" and shoots the last outlaw from 300 yards. Mattie finds herself confronting her father's killer and delivers a first-class ticket to God's judgement courtesy of Sharp's carbine. The second climax of the film comes when Rooster runs a horse to death at knife-point to save Mattie's life (the audience's reaction to the "animal cruelty" was odd, either the horse dies or Mattie dies, why did everyone gasp when the horse is run to death to save her life?) In the end, Mattie's pursuit of justice is satisfied, Marshall Cogburn saves her life, and the underlying metaphor of redemption is hammered again and again. The cinematography was okay; the hard feel of the film was reinforced by the cold and desolate landscapes used for a back drop. The best part of the film was the dialog, it was clipped and verbose (yes they are antonyms) yet deeply cynical and darkly hilarious. This movie is not the Coen's best but entertaining.
Miles Run:29.41 Miles Biked:65.75 Total Miles:95.16 Days to Rainier:156 Summit Team:7.55 Aspirin Tablets:15
Well there are too many little thing happening to really give any depth, so I will try for superficiality today. I found out today that Google Earth has a magical feature that will generate an elevation profile of any route on Earth. So I entered my current running course and generated this sweet graph. As a total stats guy, I love graphs. My last two runs were really great. That foot injury was all healed up and by the grace of God didn't bother me. Another thing that probably helped was implementing some common sense activities as part of my run: (1) Dynamic stretching: a full range of motion quick stretch before starting and during my four brief breaks during the run (2) Posture: maintaining a head high running position (allowing more lung capacity), squaring up my arms to keep a forward orientation, and making sure to keep a more smooth transition from stride to stride (3) Drinkning more water especially post run (4) Static stretching: after runs stretch out all major muscle groups in slow 20-30 second motionless stretching For any athlete these are probably pretty obvious. However for someone like me who couldn't even make the high school baseball team, I had to do some research to find these little things out. No doubt I am still missing all kinds of techniques and injury reducing rituals, but maybe after making more mistakes I will discover them. Funny that a guy who has spent 6 years doing pro video work with DII and DI Football teams and has seen thousands of stretching drills never put two and two together to realize that dynamic stretching might be a good idea... So this week I managed to dress up my desk at the office by including this great picture my grandmother created for me: I have been out to this light house in Pemaquid Maine out on the Atlantic. It is a true likeness. I had the privilege of spending a sunny afternoon with Ethan, Cassie, and Rachael out near the lighthouse. Fond memories of my Epic Road Trip. As part of my Internship with Mars Hill, I ran across Michael S. and his Myspace page. He is a techno remixer and Here is his page (be sure to check out the song "Fire and Brimstone", he samples Mark Driscoll in his mix). Amazing the talent some folks have. In completely unrelated news my internship brought me across this rather cryptic quote from the famous Greek Historian Herodotus:
Ou Phrontis, I don't care!
Herodotus recounted the story of a young man who acted with such unreserved exultation at his wedding party that the bride's father (a king) called off the wedding. In responce the young man in the throws of mad exuberance shouted "Ou Phrontis (the king), I don't care!" The story is awesome for the ridiculous audacity of a foolish man living life madly, but passionately (not unlike Kerouac). TE Lawrence liked the story so much he engraved the phrase and placed a permanent reminder above his door. That way any man who came over would know Lawrence's pad was a sweet spot to unwind and forget even the most pressing worries in life. That would be amazing. Really, I want a little of that. Again switching subjects faster than Rooster Cogburn (just saw True Grit with Greg, pretty good flick from the Coen Brothers) can draw a revolver, yesterday my community group provided a perfect place for God to remind me of his kindness. A week ago last Sunday I walked from 9pm to midnight thinking about my pride and the ridiculous opinion I have of myself. Christ was there through Freemont, across the Aurora Bridge, up old 99, through Belltown, under the scrapers downtown, past the stadiums showing me my arrogance and his forgiveness. Redemption. "The only way our of folly, sin, me-ism, habitual arrogance is worship", Pastor Noreiga's continual refrain. Behavior modification doesn't work. Neither does despair. It was a good walk and better still when I shared my struggle with pride with my church family. Moving right along (I need to rest, tomorrow is a 16 hour day of interning and campus cleanup), I found this picture from three or four weeks back: After a community group, we had a snow ball fight this is what my hair looked like following the white combat. So with all those random pieces of my life clumsily covered, I leave you all with this picture of a beautiful spider's web:
Miles Run:21.30 Miles Biked:65.75 Total Miles:87.05 Days to Rainier:161 Summit Team:5.55 Aspirin Tablets:15
Running today after biking. Obviously this is a bad idea. So I fatigued my right foot, then pushed through the pain until it failed. Now I'm on aspirin. Reminds me of a song by the White Stripes:
Well strip the bark right off a tree and just hand it this way, Don't even need a drink of water to make the headache go away
In Europe, a common folk remedy was to chew Willow tree bark because it would reduce pain and reduce fevers. Later researchers discovered acetylsalicylic acid (yeah I had to look up the spelling, chemistry would have been my other major if I had more time, but with only two years of chemistry my memory failed me). The foot thing will be better soon, otherwise my exorcism...I mean exercise schedule will be shot. Anyway, the best part of the day came this evening. I hung out with my community group, and talked with the guys about what we are all going through and what the gospel means in the midst of our circumstances. I shared just how much I have been seeing my arrogance, and the truth that I must repent of it otherwise why would God honor the proud, "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. Matt 23:12" I also have been not trusting that all I need to do is worship well and Jesus will take care of the little things, you know like life. Next us men watched Payback (with Mel Gibson). It was sweet. Some notable quotes from the movie:
GSW: that's what the hospitals call it: gunshot wound. Doctor has to report it to the police. That makes it hard for guys in my line to get what I call, quality health care.
Not many people know what their life's worth is. I do. Seventy grand. That's what they took from me. And that's what I was going to get back.
We went for breakfast in Canada. We made a deal; if she'd stop hookin', I'd stop shooting people...Maybe we were aiming high.
It was a great story of betrayal, opposition, a cunning plan, and ultimately sweet toe-tapping redemption (the children's rhyme "this little Piggy went to market" will take on new meaning when you see this flick). Good stuff. So to close out this post, I'm announcing the launch of a new blog: "Josh's Road Signs". It will be dedicated to showcasing all of my collected notes and commentaries on sermons, good books, and scripture. These avenues for greater maturity are much like signs pointing me down one road but not another, telling me to slow and watch for falling rocks, to downshift on steep grades, to watch for crossing wildlife, and the like. We all should be looking for these indicators in our life. Keep your eyes open and if you want to see the signs along my road check our the NEW BLOG. Less than 170 days to Rainier...
Miles Run:12 Miles Biked:45.49 Total Miles:57.49 Days to Rainier:199 Summit Team:4.5 Aspirin Tablets:6
Today was a good day. It is my one day of total relaxation and rest each week. I volunteer my time from Sunday-Thursday at Mars Hill Church in a variety of ways. Saturday is my project day to catch-up and prep for the next week. In obvious contradiction to my previously defined day of rest, I installed 20 feet of 12-2 Romex and a new receptical (Romex, if you don't know what Romex is you are not a DIY type of person, tisk tisk). So without being electrucuted I updated and rewired the power to my bedroom to ensure that my new shiny computer monitor would be well grounded. I then knocked out 25.25 miles on my mountain bike in the driving wind, with only one minor injury (Biking Map). Finally, I cooked some amazing shrimp Linguine and watched Swordfish with Travolta and Berry. I know God said:
Vengeance is mine, and recompense, for the time when their foot shall slip; for the day of their calamity is at hand, and their doom comes swiftly. Deut 32:35
But something in me is stirred when Gabriel (played by Travolta) says:
Someone must bring [the terrorists'] war to them. They bomb a church, we bomb 10. They hijack a plane, we take out an airport. They execute American tourists, we tactically nuke an entire city. Our job is to make terrorism so horrific that is becomes unthinkable to attack Americans.
I guess I am just a jacked up guy, but vengeance... This sympathy with Gabriel or Clyde Alexander Shelton (played by Butler in Law Abiding Citizen) and their causes of justice and liberty leads to a fear in my gut. Should I ever be blessed with a wife or a precious daughter. I know there is no power on Earth that would stop me from repaying anyone who hurt them fully.
Wow, man I got off topic. Like James Harleman says, "there are few experience specifically as compelling or challenging as being pulled into a film's story for a few hours."
So what was I going to write about? Oh yeah Costco! "Costco?", you ask. Yes, Costco. Every year my mom and I go to the Costco shareholders meeting in Bellevue (except last year when I was on my Epic Road Trip). "Are you a RICH GREEDY CAPITALIST who is ruining America and the World by promoting the corporate executive system where men make outrageous amounts of money yet have no incentive to manage risk, instead they live only for the short-term thereby ensuring we will all be subject to frequent and volatile financial crises?!" No, no, no. I support that system of intentional instability when I pay my taxes. Anyway, I hold a modest amount of Costco shares in my retirement account, so I get to go. My mom and I enjoy the event each year because it reminds us that Capitalism is lovely and saves the lives of hundreds of thousands each year. It also allows me to buy the hundred pack of socks. Jeffrey Brotman led the meeting, the video presentation of all the cool depictions of Costco in the media (Jimmy Kimmel at Costco was the best), and the Q&A. The best part is the free stuff. Don't get me wrong stealing made the top ten not cool list, but it's not stealing when they say, "Here take it we don't want to take it back to the office." So I got 2 gallons of laundry detergent, 4 containers of chocolate covered Almonds and Raisins, 50 pounds (!) of sealed trail mix, 6 2.2lb boxes of Natural French Truffles (one of my personal favorites), 5 cool self-sealing storage containers, 3 boxes of Flex Free Glucosamine and Chondroitin tablets, three pounds of shrimp, a dozen bottles of Kirkland Signature Vita-Rain, and a sweet portrait of myself,. My mom got about the same amount of swag plus a full-sized dog bed for Fritz. Thursday's Costco outing was a total win. I even ran into my buddy from Ballard Campus Security. So now I am fully stocked with training food (50lbs of trail mix!) and am even well rested or will be after I publish this post and snooze.
I am still calling any manly man or womenly woman to join me on Rainier. July is just far enough away to prepare physically and mentally. Join me. Beat Rainier.
This last week has been a long week with an exciting project I submitted. I even got some positive feedback from Pastor James. Very cool. I got to sleep after 2am Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday trying to get everything ready and woke at 7:15am to get to work. Also, I ran 9 miles and rode 20 miles. These numbers are not spectacular but in my defense, I have not run in 13 years.
So this week I will be starting morning runs. Pray for me. I am really NOT looking forward to it.
I enjoyed some great Lamb Biryani at the India Bistro in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle with my grandparents and my cousin Tanya. I got to pick her brain on running and preparing for my climb. As a professional runner type person, her advice carries massive weight, and I am very grateful that she took the time with me. Also, I saw The Way Back (see my last post). The movie stirred my mind and gut. Basically, after my long week I was gifted with a great two days to relax and recharge. But last night I couldn't sleep (even though I was in bed by 10pm). I was anxious about Sunday services at West Seattle. Worried that we wouldn't have enough security guys, parking guys, and baptism volunteers. But then one Sunday came, we had a solid security core, three guys on parking, and plenty of baptism folks. God delivered and everything went well. In fact everything went really well. We saw 8 people baptized including a counterfeiter and dealer who did 5 years in Federal. I also interviewed a 7 year-old girl who is solid in her faith. Basically all 7 teams and 75 volunteers faithfully showed up, I tried to humbly lead them (as humbly as an arrogant guy like me can) to worship God, and God showed up. Game set match. So why did I worry?
There was a man, an ordinary married man. He is hauled out of his life; his wife is tortured and accuses him of treason. He is convicted in a closed interrogation room by party member and sentenced to twenty years hard labor in a Siberian Gulag. His whole world was taken away and he was caste from his homeland of Poland to a hell-on-earth in frozen Siberia. The Gulags were walled but really didn't need to be. The wall was Siberia itself; the endless frozen forests of the Soviet East were sufficient to kill any who left the camps. With the meager rations, frozen environs, voracious diseases, dangerous work conditions, and random executions by bored guards, the average death rate per year was 20% during the period of 1938-1965. Janusz's home was attacked and divided between Nazi and Soviet megalomaniacs. His life and liberty were taken away and he was condemned to death in the camps(there was only a 1.15% chance that he would survive the 20 year sentence). This story is the story of millions. This story is retold by Peter Weir in the film "The Way Back". There are dozens if not hundreds of movies about Nazism, Italian Fascism, and Sino-Imperialism. There are very few honest depictions of Soviet brutality. The anti-semitic genocide in Germany killed 9-12 million. The Soviet Communists murdered more. Socialism in Germany and Italy was bloody but nothing compared to Soviet Communism. As many as 60 million caste into the furnace of the USSR, turned to ash in the name of equality and proletariat exaltation.
Weir's story tells the true story of Slawomir Rawics. In 1941, this man escaped from the barbed wire camp into the Siberian wastes. He and five others headed South to escape the Communists. They walked through a Siberian Winter. They walked past Soviet patrols. They walked into Mongolia and entered the Gobi desert. They lost three men along the way, in the sand. Three made it to Tibet. They walked across the narrow mountain passes from Lhasa into North of India in Winter, arriving barely alive. Many would ask for proof of their 4,000 miles walk. There is none.
Captain Rupert Mayne was a British intelligence officer stationed in Calcutta who interviewed these three men. His report and Slawomir's personal testimony is the only proof that this actually happened.
What do you think? I would encourage you to give his story a hearing. Go see The Way Back, and ask what drives each of these men. They faced a slow death in the camps, but instead they decided to walk. They could have faced the wasting away of their life, but instead they chose to take their life back and run for it.
I can't help myself. As a rather conservative economic theorist (wow that is such an arrogant thing to say, what difference does my little degree really make?), I can only look at the Communist form as inherently denying reality. They assume first of all that a central planner (or team of mere thousands of planners) can coordinate markets better than the price system. This assumption (no it's a blind assertion) caused the famines in the USSR (5-10 million deaths all due to bureaucrats' arrogance). The second assumption in Soviet Communism is that people are inherently good so we can trust the ruling class (the Politburo). The only minor problem is that in a Communist system only the ambitious men are promoted to power not the best men. The result is that Lennin, Stalin, Khrushchev, and the like end up leading (45-50 million killed as political, social or racial undesirables). Basically, these two assumptions end in blood. Soviet communism has caused devastation and horror on a larger scale than any other philosophical system ever.
So today I had the privilege of spending time with some great folks from the West Seattle Campus of Mars Hill. We all went out to the U. District Campus to enjoy the Movie Inception and Cinemagogue's theological take on this fine piece of cinematic philosophy. The metanarrative master's (Pastor Harleman) discussion of subjective reality explored the very curious yet blatantly obvious fact that the question "Did the top stop spinning?" is totally irrelevant. Here are some of my subjective recollections of Harleman's main points:
(1)Viewed from another perspective, one can see that Saito was actually breaking into Cobb's mind. Notice how Saito just happens to appear in Madras with the rescuing car, he has seemingly unlimited power to but an airline in the middle of a conversation, and he is the cause of Cobb's catharsis with both his children and his dead wife.
(2)Without an external and infallible person who knows all, there can by definition be no truly objective reality. Christopher Nolan (the director) focuses all his films on this premise. There is no objective reality, or at least no one can access it. In Memento, Guy Pierce's character has no short-term memory, so he relies on tattoos and photographs to interpret his perceived reality through. The story shows how fallible even relying on hard facts can be. Inception takes that idea and goes 10 steps further. What if you were able to enter someone's dreams and interact with them? What if you did such a good job of this that true life outside of the dream (we'll call this "reality") became hard to discern? What if you lost track of what was real and what was a dream? In many ways that gray area is precisely where we live everyday. What is objectively true? Does you spouse really truly love you? Or are you making a best guess based on your experience and what they have told you? Are even your memories of life trustworthy? These sorts of questions build a healthy paranoia don't they?
(3)In the Prestige (another Nolan Film), Michael Caine's character (Cutter) says, "Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary...Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled." This reaction in each of our minds pulls us toward an idealized (or perhaps more palatable) reality where "truth" is forgotten. We all yearn for a subjective reality...Christian's call this original sin. We all want to live in a world where we can be our own god; where we have monopoly on what is real and what is not. For me, that is why I love to dream. As an amateur lucid dreamer, I have enjoyed the subjective reality of my own semi-conscious mind and the seeming omnipotence it offers.
(4)Cypher in the Matrix decided that whatever feels real is real. "If I have to choose between [reality] and the Matrix, I choose the Matrix." Some folks recognize that objective reality depends on an external hero but say that subjective reality is more than enough to live a full life. Cypher agrees.
There were many other intriguing insights from P. Harleman but you guys should have attended if you wanted to hear them. Too bad for you. One final note before I try to sleep. A friend of mine who you can read about HERE recently renewed a debate I have had within my mind regarding a grand unified theory of everything. (No not quite the GUT) rather a consistent view of my own life, economic theory, and a more general sociological theory of mankind. She pointed me to a man by the name of John Robbins. He launches a fair-minded attack on my favorite economist Ludwig von Mises (coincidentally I have spent dozens of hours in Mises personal library whilst at Hillsdale College). Robbins points out the difficulty acknowledged by Misses, "Those divines [Theologians] who saw that nothing but revelation could provide man with perfect certainty were right. Human scientific inquiry cannot proceed beyond the limits drawn by the insufficiency of man's senses and narrowness of his mind." (He then goes on to explain causal indeterminance and all the annoying things in economics which have caused me to slam my head against my keyboard through the long nights of grad school.) The admission that those folks with a red line to the man upstairs seem to own objective truth seems hollow. I mean in mathematics there are such things as a limiting argument where a function never reaches a given threshold. Couldn't humanity be similar under a purely subjective world view, each day getting closer to objective truth but never reaching it? I appreciate Robbins views but dang guy. Maybe I have been to well indoctrinated by my Austrian professors. I want to be both a Christian and an rationalist economist.
Oh and Read Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged and Fountainhead y'all. She is a fascinating story telling and straight-up Austrian (maybe).
I should have posted this earlier. It is my VLOG immediately upon returning to Seattle with Joe. He accompanied me from Chicago to Seattle. I recorded this at the Hamilton Viewpoint in West Seattle; my little corner of the Emerald City (the name is not related to the Wizard of Oz, it is due to the perennial green beauty of the city it never gets depressingly dead-looking like all of the South, East, Southwest, and Midwest in Winter). We actually have evergreen trees and more rain than we know what to do with. I love Seattle, the people and the place. Heck right now I'm sitting in the Bauhaus (the very best of Grunge Coffee shops, an old motorcycle repair shop) at the very core of Seattle in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. Joe and I had this picture taken in downtown Seattle's Pioneer Square as soon as we finished the 3,000+ mile full conquest of I-90 (Boston to Seattle). When I recorded this clip Seattle felt inclined to greet me with rain (of course my long lost city was so overcome with my valiant return that she needed to cry). Also in the VLOG I look pompous (I think I do), if I were you I'd chalk that up to me being punch-drunk with the joy of a distant goal reached, a goal that looked so far away and so uncertain, so as to not really be believed possible until actually seen, felt, and blogged about. One other note: BEFORE WATCHING THIS TURN UP YOUR AUDIO SO YOU CAN HEAR ME!! (Sorry when I recorded it I thought it'd be louder)
Also this is not the last post about the road trip!! I still haven't told about DC, NYC, Boston, Harvard, Maine, Chicago, or the Northern Passage. Please stay tuned.
I guess I'll post the trip stats even though this road trip is concluded. Miles: 14704.8 Gallons Burned: 484.1 Caffeinated Drinks: 88 Gigabytes of Pictures: 33.5
I also feel compelled to admit one thing before I continue, I have been reading "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac for the first time so I may exhibit a certain violence/exuberance in my writing; you all have my apologies. After catching up with my aunt and uncle and eating an amazing squash dish that kept getting better as I had it for leftovers, I slept poorly waking often to odd and unpleasant dreams. I was determined to catch a little skiing on my road trip as it had been 20 months since my last alpine adventure involving rapid descent (rather different from my long and grueling hikes up Mt. Rainier to Camp Muir at 9,550 ft). Zoom out to see just how awesome it really is:
View Larger Map Anyhow I set out back up I-26 toward the Appalachian "Mountains" (Honestly these hills are often given far too much credit. They are nice for a Sunday drive but surely do not bear the one critical element that makes a mountain a mountain, namely the tendency to create widows). I await Jen or Alicia's rebutal, you see they have done something like 1,500 miles of the long Appalachian trail and they can tell of the extreme exertion required to defeat such terrain. Check out their cool story, it's the last link in my "Websites!" section. Oh right! So I drove north but due to my lack of intel, I didn't know exactly where to go, so despite "the" stereotype I stopped and asked for directions to Sugarloaf Mountain. The oldtimer at the gas station looked at me confused. He asked if I wanted directions to skiing. I answered in the affermative, he relaxed as said why not go up to the Wolf? "It's only 15 minutes away." Excited to be so close to powder I thanked the man and left with after purchasing a sandwich for later. Much later I realized that Sugarloaf is actually the best skiing in Maine, not North Carolina. So I valiantly drove north up to the Wolf. I drove a slow road into the mountains that dead ended in a resort community, back tracking I found my error and returned to the correct path. I skidded into the parking lot of a ski rental shop my parking was as follows (Notice the precision of my diagram): The whole lot was covered in about 6 inches of snow, so I just rammed the car into the lot and let her be where she stopped. I grabbed some shorter skis (its been a little while so cut me some slack). I managed to push my Jolly Green out of the lot with only 15 minutes work. Once at the lifts, I paid for the really cheap lift tickets and hopped up the mountain on their one working chair lift. On my second lift ride I met a middle aged man on the lift who was an executive for some southeastern grocery store; then I met a pair of giggling stoners. The next ride was taken alone as were the next three rides. After getting my snow legs back, I felt like a break was called for. I pulled over here and unpacked the back pack that Uncle Steve let me borrow: I ate a fine roast beef sandwich, two Hershey bars, two wheat and cheese cracker packs, a quart of water, and some raisins all while enjoying the view. After the next run, I joined a solo skier who was in line for the lift. His name was Tristan. He came out to ski with his mom, but she didn't want to ski so this 10 year old kid was braving the slopes alone even though this was only his second time skiing. I felt a kinship with this kid; we in our own unique ways were loners experiencing the purest form of solitude: being alone in a crowd (okay second purest form of solitude, the purest being locked away in your car for 12,404 miles to wrestle with your true self, equivalent to two weeks of solitary confinement in prison). So I hung out with Tristan. He was a great kid. I would be proud of my son if he was half the young man Tristan is at the same age. He held himself well and was fearless, he took on the steepest slopes with a thirst for speed paralleled only by my own. He wanted to push the envelope on his ability on skis and he visibly improved with each run. I never had a little brother (that I grew up with), but Tristan would be awesome as a little bro. With his mother's permission here is Tristan: After I had sharpened my ski skills, I filmed a long clip of me skiing down from the top of Wolf Mountain to the bottom. It is the last clip in this little video project I made from my time on Wolf Mountain. Feel free to leave feedback(much love to the Go! Team who provided the music):
Still here on the pier in Flamingo Bay. Remember how the Saints beat the Colts on that most holy of American days, Superbowl Sunday? (Congrats Andrew, you were right the heart of those Saints beat the precision of Manning) I really don't. There were some amazing passes, that fateful interception...something about the Who. My point is that I don't really remember the game, because I was with some neat people. The day after my harrowing beach adventure, my official plan was to wake up at noon, eat some steak, and watch Mad Max, Mad Max 2: the Road Warrior, and Mad Max 3: Beyond Thunderdome. I accomplished my first two goals and even managed to start watching Mad Max when Cheryl and Susan came over to my car. When I looked up and saw two people approaching I thought, "Oh no. What did I do wrong? Did they find out about my bonfire? Am I breaking some obscure rule about sleeping in my car? Oh no there getting closer!" Did I mention my strong bent toward antisocialism...(I like Rand but I'm not talking about that kind of socialism right now). Anyways, these two kind and gracious beyond gracious women invited me over to a fancy RV to watch the Superbowl with them. I was so taken aback that I blurted something out then as they asked what I had just said, I said, "Let me get my shoes on." They didn't understand what I had said until I actually used intelligible words. Being a 23 year old guy from Seattle I'm used to being ignored, silently judged, sworn at, receiving the finger, and the like by complete strangers. So you might imagine what it is like to receive grace, mercy, kindness, respect, even...dare I say it...FOOD from strangers. Not just strangers but strangers who are different. Bill & Antje, Jack & Cheryl, and Brad & Susan are all older individuals who are either retired or semi-retired. Suppose you see some strange kid with Washington State plates in a Florida State Park who has slept in his car the one day you knew he existed. Would you go out of your way to engage him (taking the risk of rudeness, rejection, even possibly danger)? How about inviting him into your home (the RV is Brad and Susan's full-time home)? I'd have a hard time doing that. But that's because I am not as nice as these six wonderful individuals. I'd like to publicly thank all six of you for your generosity and overwhelming hospitality! I feel embarrassed that I couldn't even offer you any of my food (raw steaks, a block of cheese, and some Cheez-its don't really work). We talked all through the game and shared stories on every topic from "special" beaches to a 170 mile-an-hour car ride that Bill once took. I enjoyed myself immensely and really treasure the experience. Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture of them, but if you want to see them just close your eyes and imagine the 6 kindest people who have ever graced you in your time under the sun. Feel free to leave a comment telling a story about how people have been kind to you.
I watched Edward Scissorhands for the first time last night here in Galveston TX. It was pretty good and I loved the pastel view of suburban America. All in all, it missed a compelling ideology (other than the condemnation of a mob mentality and Conservatism - rather expected) and a true exploration of Depp's character's humanity.
I was digging through my pictures/videos, and I found these clips from the fabled "Mountain Pass". Please enjoy:
Honestly the canyon/valley I stayed in was like something out of the Lord of the Rings.
