Put a Hold on that Purchase of a French Country Chateau

Check out this podcast interview with the author of a novel called 50 degrees Below Zero, part of the "Mars" trilogy, I believe. The issue: environmental change. The conclusion: Oh Shit...

He focused less on atmospheric problems, which are contentious and difficult to model. Instead he talked about the oceans. It was fantastic--the most convincing presentation of the material (in short form) I've heard to date.

The two big factors he cited were:
1. Melting ice caps changing the salinity of ocean waters and redirecting the gulf stream (which would turn europe and the NE US into the yukon territory, perhaps as far south as DC);

2. Carbon precipitating into the oceans, increasing the acidity of the waters and challenging the environs for small creatures (whose shells are made of calcium) which are at the bottom of the food chain (bad idea).

He argued that, based on ice core evidence, such changes can alter our world rapidly (think Europe as an ice box in three years once the process starts in earnest). Think it's a bunch of hype to sell his book? Maybe, but he was remarkably level-headed and well spoken.

BTW--A group of scientists rated the possibility of such a change at 50% in the next 100 years...

More on Music Since I'm confessing my secret love for musicians that would get me thrown out of any respectable scenester gathering, I might as well come totally clean. I have (in this past year of Sopranos, scotch, and dark thoughts) come to love Van Morrison. You probably associate this name with "Moondance" and "Tupelo Honey"--catchy pop tunes played at high school proms and weddings and not exactly the kind of thing that makes one weep. Yet when you get past the "best of" set, you find an incredible treasure. Lester Bangs, the famed Rolling Stone reviewer, describes Astral Weeks as "the rock record with the most significance in my life so far."

I've spent a number of nights in a sort of a trance, alone with the headphone volume up very high, feeling this music more than listening to it. Feeling, as the article describes, like one of those "people stunned by life, completely overwhelmed, stalled in their skins, their ages and selves, paralyzed by the enormity of what in one moment of vision they can comprehend." On those dark nights Astral Weeks "assumed the quality of a beacon, a light on the far shores of the murk."

Check out Lester's review here: http://www.harbour.sfu.ca/~hayward/van/reviews/astral.html

Thanks to Todd Fox for turning me onto Van and the above article.

Background on a Favorite Brett Expression

Good background knowledge: http://ask.yahoo.com/20060116.html

Why It's Good to Have a Glass of Wine Before Putting the Young-uns to Bed

Bedtime rituals are great fun. Parents and children appreciate time together--sometimes the only chance you have during the day to have a conversation with them. These are happy days in a man's life. Hell, you make your child happy merely by reading another book (when they are 16, I'll have to invest thousands of dollars in a car to get the same smile).

I tried to remind myself of that after last night.

I was reading to Daniel in the tight confines of his upper bunk. I get a little claustro up there at times and kids have absolutely no sense of personal space. The boy picked a goobery booger out of his nose while I was explaining how The Mystery Treehouse couldn't really go back to dinosaur time. He and I looked at the offending semi-hard mucus. We had a problem on our hands--to get back out of the bed requires a lot of effort and reshuffling and delays (because kids out of bed at bedtime find anything to do except come directly back). No problem, "wipe it on your pj's--we'll wash 'em soon."

I just didn't want him to eat the thing.

He looks at me, then at the booger and, quick as a magician, wiped that booger on my lips. I was stunned, and quietly started to boil, but the blood pressure came down quickly thanks to nature's great elixer. I wiped my mouth on his pj's and asked that "he never do that again." From the look in his eyes, I'm not sure he won't.

Saved!

If you haven't watched this movie from '04 (and yes, I realize that I'm living a time-shifted, closet-like existance), you should afford yourself the pleasure. Not a scholarly treatment of what evangelicalism looks like from the outside (as in The Church on the World's Turf which I own thanks to Knuck and will lend)--just raw comedy.

BTW--if you are a Netflix customer, let me know so that I can add you to my friends list. It is a much easier way to share movie ideas.

Just for Fun

http://www.gapingvoid.com/Moveable_Type/archives/000729.html

Cynical cartoons with extended captions, mostly about life in NYC. Don't miss Henry. Hilarious! (I sent this earlier in the year to some of you.)

1. A Guilty Pleasure
   
   There's the old saw that "you'll always love best the music that you listened to when you started getting laid." We've all witnessed the bizarre phenomenon that people, as they get older, keep listening to the music of their youth. Your parents, my parents, embarrassed us in front of our friends by listening to "Oldies 107.9", singing along with the Beach Boys while driving us to soccer practice. Oh, the shame! "Please God, don't let this happen to me."
   
   And yet, the vast majority of adults (defined here as people with kids and/or careers) I know are musically retarded. I put myself into this category, too--I'm not able to keep up with the trends, and when I try, I get shot down by the hipsters.
   
   Me: Hey, I got into Bright Eyes recently.
   Bryce: Yeah, I used to get into them. The girls really dig Colin Oberst--he's a hottie.
   
   Do you see what happened? Shot down with the double-barrel critique: "used to get into them" meaning "that's old news" and "he's a hottie" meaning this has become chick-music. I go dark. This new music thing is risky.
   
   But I am compelled to continue my quest because music is the poetry of our day, and it reflects our culture's changing emotions and thoughts about love and self-loathing, relationships and isolation, fear and joy, justice and evil. Great music helps us connect the dots of experience in our own lives--it gives us a narrative that resonates--and new, young bands are the best place to find this creative, artistic energy. They haven't been compromised by the wealth and fame, they don't have houses on every continent, and buy bottles of pinot noir that cost $2000. They are keepin' it real, man. The old bands (the worst examples are the guys with cash cow businesses, touring the country to milk the boomers at $100 a pop) are tired and lame, presenting "art" that is so old it is irrelevant. If I hear another boomer friend talk about seeing The Stones on tour, I'll puke. ("But, dude, they really rock out!" Yeah, whatever.)
   
   Alright, understanding my view of music and my desire to stay current, eschewing the music of my youth (I swear, I don't listen to R.E.M. anymore), I've got to come clean: I still really like U2, God help me. I know I'm not supposed to like them. (1) They are popular (insert laugh here at this understatement); (2) they are old; (3) they are shameless rock crusaders who hit you over the head with their message. But still I love them. As for the 3 reasons above:
   
   1. Yes, they are the most popular band on the planet and have been for some time. There's no defense except that sometimes good art is popular.
   
   2. Their music has matured as they've grown up. You can feel the differences in the albums; they tell new stories connected to an evolving consciousness, experiencing love and loss, pain and joy, anger and mercy--not as a teenager, but as an aging adult (which kinda speaks to me). This is brought out in a great series of podcasts with Rolling Stone Mag.
   
   3. Perhaps it's just that I'm a shameless crusader type who believes we can and should fix the world, but I find this rock star inspirational. Oh God, I can't believe I typed that. Let me explain: the way he is reframing the African crisis is incredible. On a panel discussion with big wigs such as Bill Clinton, he said, a bit frustrated, "I'd like to change the way we talk about Africa. It's not a policy issue, it's an emergency. 3,000 kids dying each day due to malaria, a disease we can easily treat, is an emergency." I love that moral clarity, that sense of right and wrong. He's urging guys like Jeffrey Sachs to write The End of Poverty, a thoroughly enjoyable read about possibilities for our lifetime (feel free to skip the first couple of chapters--they are a bit elementary). He's collecting pop-culture heavy weights (e.g. Brangolina) and presidents under the same banner. James Traub of the NYTimes called him "The Statesman," in a great article earlier this year. His work with the Gates Foundation is described in a New Yorker piece (also available via podcast that I can no longer find) called What Money Can Buy. What's not to love about that?

Yes, he's a ranting pop star. Yes, he's rich and old and not on the cutting edge of the indie scene. But the band has grown up without growing old, and that works for me. So, there's my confession, my "here I stand, God help me" against the hipsters.

Oh, yeah, I saw this quote today which is what prompted this rather long post.

"The less you know, the more you believe."
--Bono