I checked out this trail that runs through a transverse section of Forest Park.

A first for me was watching a flock of chestnut-backed chickadees. These little birds look just like black-capped chickadees until you get a good look at them. Once you have them in your sights you can see the chestnut coloration on the back and sides. According to my bird book the flock members have a habit of flying one at a time across openings. This is a little behavioral trait that is interesting to watch.

I also saw a pileated woodpecker and some impressive excavations it and its kin had wrought on some dead and dying trees.

Non-therapeutic genital cutting of infants and minors is morally wrong.

It’s wrong because it violates two fundamental human rights that apply to people of any age: the right to bodily autonomy and the right to bodily integrity. These rights belong to male, female and intersex children.

In the Reddit forum on foreskin restoration the typical post is from a male who is sharing progress or asking for advice on technique during their effort to regain a semblance of a functioning foreskin.

Today a user posted from a different perspective: that of a concerned and distressed girlfriend who was knowledgeable about natural, intact male anatomy and wanted to help her boyfriend address his potential sexual dysfunction due to an extremely “tight” circumcision forced on him as an infant:

 (https://www.reddit.com/r/foreskin_restoration/comments/e217ou/help_how_can_i_get_my_boyfriend_to_restore/)

She also posted because sex was painful, he could not last more than two minutes before orgasm, she felt sad and because, “I don’t like looking at it because it breaks my heart. I don’t like touching it because it’s so tight it once again breaks my heart and feels wrong.”

She also had a previous sex partner with an intact penis to compare him to. And with him, she knew “exactly how it’s supposed to look and work” and that sex was fun and comfortable.

As I read this post and the responses I shuddered at the horrific details and at the vast numbers of people affected by genital cutting. These people include those who were cut without their consent as well as their future partners.

The details also point to the haphazard nature of infant genital cutting. Because of the tiny size of the newborn penis, any cutting method employed will have a margin of error that is unacceptably wide for an unnecessary permanent surgery like circumcision. In addition the fact that most people who perform the cutting in the US are obstetricians (not plastic surgeons) or worse, a religious nincompoop, is another roll of the dice that the man must later deal with.

The user who posted is smart and compassionate and wants to help her boyfriend. I copied my highlights from this thread below:

The original Reddit post

“I love my boyfriend. We’ve been together for the better part of a decade. We want to get married.

There’s only one thing that’s wrong, and it is interfering with our sex life: he was circumcised as a baby and they took ALL his penile skin and he has tons of complications, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t realize it. That said, he is against circumcision and said he wouldn’t have it done to his son.

Let me explain: when he’s erect, the first half of his penis is scar tissue (red, shiny), and the second half is scrotum (hairy, you can see the perineal raph on his penis). He has to shave the underside of his penis, and I can feel the stubble when I go down on him. It also has a rough bump on it.

I guess it’s what you would call super “high and tight.” His erections pull his glans down, his testicles move to the side of his penis (the ballsack disappears into the penis), his penis can’t even get fully erect because there isn’t enough skin, so it bends to the side. I feel like if he were to restore, it would take a while just to “free” his penis from the tent-like tightness before he actually got any foreskin. The frenulum was amputated. The glans are super keratinized.

It’s so tight that there is zero gliding motion, and that hurts my vagina. It’s like being abraded. His penis is so sensitive, intercourse only lasts maybe a minute or two.

I don’t like looking at it because it breaks my heart. I don’t like touching it because it’s so tight it once again breaks my heart and feels wrong. I feel like I don’t know what to do with it because it’s broken, and I love him so much this causes immense guilt.

My first live-in partner was intact, so I know exactly how it’s supposed to look and work: it’s supposed to be straight, covered in baby-soft, hairless skin from the base to the tip, moist, shiny glans that only come out during arousal, a frenulum, a fun, gliding motion that makes sex comfortable. The scrotum isn’t supposed to incorporate into the erection. He masturbated in a way that looked like how nature intended a man to masturbate. We didn’t need lube.

I am so lost at what to do. I’ve considered getting therapy for my thoughts about his circumcision. I feel like if I tell him, he’ll think I don’t like his penis. I’m afraid he’ll be irreparably hurt.

At one point years ago, he told me he thought about getting that oxballs brand silicone mock foreskin to reverse the keratinization of his glans (without my prompting).

Help me! I would love it even if he just had enough skin to allow the penis to have a normal erection that doesn’t seem like it’s trapped, wanting to rip through his skin. I have held my tongue for so long, and sometimes I want to bring it up and I’ll take a Benadryl to make me sleepy so I don’t say anything and hurt his feelings. But we barely have sex nowadays.

Please help me navigate this.”

Highlights from the responses

“oh, and btw, I’d avoid the traumatic talk. Your description was very vivid. Hearing it like that could scare him. Take it slow.”

“I see no reason not to bring it up with him, he needs to know that it is making sex painful for you.”

[from the woman with the request for advice] “I’d never bring up my ex. My ex sucked, and my boyfriend is incredible lol. I only mentioned him to point out how I knew the difference between circumcised and intact so acutely.”

“First of all, he does appear to have a desire to improve his sexual function. It might have been some years ago, but if he had it then he probably still has it now. Maybe he hasn’t mentioned it because he is afraid to raise it. Whatever the reason, I think you have got a good case to bring it up with him, but here’s the catch: you should only ever bring it up from HIS situation. Say something like “I remember a while back, you were interested in dekeratinising your glans. Well, the other day I read about some more permanent options that I think you’ll be interested in…” and go from there. But at no point do you make it about you, the impact he has on you or on your sex life. If he takes up restoration, encourage him, share his progress journey, celebrate successes and make sure he knows he doesn’t need to hide it from you.

I’m not sure exactly how long you’ve been feeling like this, but if you’ve been with intact men and admired the way their penis functions in contrast then it’s hardly a new revelation.”

“hiding from your partner that you are not satisfied is not honest either.”

“You do make a very valid point. I think it is important to mention this, absolutely. It needs to be said how much it affects her, just not made entirely about her. A good angle to take is “I think WE would both enjoy sex more of you had a foreskin” rather than “I know I would enjoy sex more of you had a foreskin”.”

[from the woman with the request for advice] “While I would love it if he had a foreskin, I’d be content if I could just touch his erection without feeling like the skin was going to split.”

“This is such a delicate situation. Chances are your boyfriend is already insecure about his penis and bringing it up could do a lot of damage to his self-esteem. On the other hand, his circumcision is affecting you directly (sex hurts!), and it’s perfectly healthy and normal for you to have the desire to talk about it. He most likely is not aware of the extent to which his circumcision is affecting you and I think that’s how I would approach the matter.

Start by reaffirming that you love him, that you guys are a team and that, above everything, you want to feel close and connected to him. Continue : “We’ve been together for almost 10 years and I’m very happy with our sex life, but I feel like there’s something I should talk to you about, and I should have brought it up sooner but I didn’t want to hurt you. You know how much I love you.” Tell him how the circumcision affects you, and remind him that you are bringing this up because you want the both of you to enjoy the best sexual life possible. When you bring up the problem, make sure to not antagonize him. Say “us” a lot, make it clear that you guys are on the same team, that it’s not “him” vs “you”. It’s both of you vs the problem, the goal of this discussion is to find a solution that makes you both, as a couple, happier. You could then remind him about the silicone foreskin he was looking into last year and tell him that there is another solution : foreskin restoration. From there on, if he’s open to the idea, give him more info about it, how it could improve your sex life and solve some of his problems (keratinization, tight erections, scrotum hair on the shaft, etc.). Whatever happens, be ready to accept that he might chose not to restore and don’t push it if it’s the case.

That’s how I’d personally approach it with my boyfriend. You could also try and contact a sex therapist and ask for their advice. Good luck!”

“I would just float the possibility that his cutting was tighter than average and that he would be more comfortable with more mobile skin. It doesn’t need to be a big dramatic talk—at least not at first.”

“Damn. I wish you were my wife. She literally the exact opinion on everything you pointed out here. It sucks. I’m sure if you keep at it he will consider. It’s much easier with support. I have to essentially hide my restoration from her because she always has something snarky to say.”

The beer that’s pictured

When I bought this beer the cashier was enthusiastic because it was a “true” stout in the sense that the makers did not add excessive coffee, caramel, sugar, oatmeal and other enticements to make it look like a Frappuccino. I used to drink a lot of stouts and porters and I often felt that the sugar overwhelmed the drink. But this Cavatica Stout was great.

I visited Oswald West State Park on the northern Oregon coast yesterday. It was spectacular. Nothing i saw in my visits to the Columbia River Gorge with coworkers and my dad prepared me for the grandeur and timelessness of the pacific ocean meeting the temperate coastal rainforest landscape.

I drove out starting at around 0800 and got on the trail by 1000. I arrived, drank my thermos of coffee, studied the trail map, and dropped a tab of LSD. i assessed the conditions and left some warm clothing and my boots behind. I could have left my book, selfie stick, and some other items as well since i did not use them. But overall i packed pretty light.

I started just south of short sand beach. The parking lot was about half a mile from this beach and required no pass or payment. The beach was beautiful. I continued hiking and as the sun shone more directly the forest and coast seemed to light up with greater and greater intensity.

I stopped constantly to take photos. The acid peaked and troughed and peaked. I wasn’t paying too much attention to the physical effects because i was more accustomed to it (this was my third time with LSD) and i was more focused on the rugged trail, the incredible sights and keeping myself fed and hydrated and free of injury.

I came to a spectacular lookout called Cape Falcon and checked out the rocks and waves and trees and cliffs and gulls and cormorants. I made frequent use of my binoculars. I marvelled at the bright and clear colors and contours. An example is the frothy white of the waves upon the dark brown and gray rocks and the trickles and waterfalls that ensue after the rock is submerged under a wave and then surfaces again. Another example is the green waters near shore that give way to deep blue. There were also red and orange cliff faces. There were white gulls descending from great heights to land on the water and on the rocks. There were windswept conifers clinging to the cliffs for life.

At one point i experienced the common theme on acid trips of grasping the connectedness of things. With my binoculars i scanned from the top of a coastal cliff, where the trees met the sky, and looked from there to the exposed cliff below it (with distinct rock strata) and then to the waves hitting the rock. And then to the small bay with gulls flying about and to the ocean itself with unseen whales and seals moving about below the surface. While i did this i thought, “atmospheric science, ecology, erosion, plate tectonics, oceanography, ornithology, coastal navigation, paleontology, geography, geology, etc.”

I felt acutely the desire that has always been with me to know as much as possible about what i observed. I wanted to know the name of the cape i was marvelling at. I wanted to identify each gull and know its foraging habits. I wanted to picture the avian dinosaur lineage that led to those gulls. I wanted to understand the coastal ecosystem and the weather and climate of the region. I also wanted to be attuned to my physical needs and give myself the water and simple carbs i would need to power myself through the hike (i had candy bars, grape drink, water and mixed nuts that perfectly did the job). I wanted to prepare for my next hike with the right exercises and rest and nutrition. I paid attention to my reaction to the LSD and once again, i noticed no ill effects beyond a slightly flushed face and a slight metallic taste in my mouth. To drink a single beer would be riskier and more of a hindrance than this safe and well-characterized psychedelic.

I stood there observing and thought that the main unifying thing i wanted to understand was ecology, which as i see it is the interaction of living things with their surroundings and with each other. It is a science of complex connections and dynamism and endless personal fascination.

But i observed longer and realized i wanted to know the whole history. Not just ecology but paleoecology and the formation of the landscape and the formation of the earth and the history of the discovery and parsing out and debating of all these things. At one point while hiking i wondered if i would live forever through a mind-uploading option near the end of biological life and thereby get an eternity to learn and know.

I ran into very few hikers once i was beyond the beach area. One was a man who was an experienced hiker. He said today’s journey of about 15 miles was short for him. He told me about a risky but rewarding way of getting down to the rocks near where the waves were crashing. With his help i scoped it out visually for next time.

I saw waterfalls where creeks emptied into the ocean. I crossed log bridges and passed through enchanted trails where the sun shone through the trees to illuminate hanging lichen and moss. I brushed past huge sword ferns and other lush native plants.

I once halted in my tracks at what sounded like rain only to realize it was pine needles showering down on the leaves of the forest floor. They looked like rain and made gentle sounds all around me as they landed.

I observed huge fallen logs in various states of decay. The more decay, the more life sprung up opportunistically to replace the dead tree. Seeing all of these revealed the progression of life, the stages of succession. I saw one tree that must have fallen long ago that provided the substrate for a row of newer trees that looked to be 10 or so years old. I saw how fungus moves in to feed on dead rotting wood. I saw the ferns that grow in clumps of earth formed where rotting wood turned to soil. I saw native banana slugs feeding on the fungus.

At one point i saw a new bird for me. I made sure to mark its features. And i think it was a varied thrush, a bird you will only see in western north america except for rare vagrants to the east.

I looked out northward at the coast and saw the town of Cannon Beach and the great rocky outcroppings on the beach there. There was so much to take in.

I continued for as long as was safe considering the sun sets at a little after 1800 nowadays. since i had no flashlight i headed back with enough time to spare. I made good time on the return because i did not stop constantly to observe and photograph.

I got to short sand beach in time for sunset and watched it from atop a driftwood log. It was clear and beautiful and a perfect end to the hike. I saw that a few other people had set up campfires and were well appointed for a few more hours of enjoyment before heading back home. I decided i would propose a plan like that to my coworker for next time. She is the one who convinced me to come here after i shared my original plan, which was to visit Nehelem State Park and camp. This was a much better choice and i am thankful to her for that info.

I marked how this moment of watching the sunset over the pacific horizon marked a waypost in my life. I worked hard to get here. And this is why i came. I could visit the coast every weekend and never tire of it. Then there is the mount hood national forest, mount hood itself, mount saint helens, the high desert, the plains of southeastern washington, and so on. The landscape is inexhaustible. I can drive to all these places and camp and hike. I can also do bikepacking adventures closer to the city, requiring no driving at all.

I am so glad about the choices i made that led me here. I have much more to do and my imagination is on fire with what to do next. My lust for life and for experiences in the natural world are as insatiable as ever and they insist on being fed.

I can only end with a passage from The Call of the Wild:

“There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive. This ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out of himself in a sheet of flame; it comes to the soldier, war-mad on a stricken field and refusing quarter; and it came to Buck, leading the pack, sounding the old wolf-cry, straining after the food that was alive and that fled swiftly before him through the moonlight. He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time. He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars and over the face of dead matter that did not move.”

I checked out this hike recently and a birding highlight was a lazuli bunting, which a first for me. They behave like the indigo buntings of the east by singing from a prominent perch in an open area.

I find that even the most crowded trails thin out immediately when you get a few miles in.

The coworkers accompanying me hooked up the food for a nice snack at the saddle-type summit and helped identify the distant monarchs Hood, Saint Helens, Rainier and Adams.

I checked out the Smith and Bybee Lakes marsh yesterday. It is the largest protected wetland within a major metropolitan area in the US.

A highlight was a spotted towhee. I watched a gull make a spectacular mid-flight reversal followed by plucking a fish out of the water. I watched the little ruby-crowned kinglets hunting for bugs. A male kinglet had his ruby crown hidden so it was just a little band. In the nonbreeding season this crown becomes a liability and is tucked away.

I took a photo of my binoculars, backpack and grape Gatorade because they struck me as so familiar. I will always be happy with a few simple things: a nature trail, a pair of binoculars and a backpack with various contingencies such as mixed nuts and water.

UPDATE 12 Mar 2019: I forgot to mention something else that makes this place special: the no dogs policy. There is a very straightforward and informative sign at the entrance explaining why. Basically, wildlife is less disturbed and people can get closer to animal life with no dogs, even leashed ones. I am very glad about this rule.

A recent talk reinforced my preference for data-driven arguments over sermonizing about the present Information Age.

The talk was led by Douglas Rushkoff, a media theorist from New York. He was promoting his most recent book of many titled Team Human. I had read his book Program or Be Programmed from 2011 and appreciated the practical tips on digital skepticism, awareness and deliberateness. I read his book Present Shock as well but I did not find it as memorable. In addition teachers and professors had shown me Merchants of Cool, his PBS documentary in at least three separate courses. I was very struck by the influence of brands on adolescents portrayed in this film and I adopted an abiding mistrust of corporations ever since.

I say all this to make it clear that I am open to the message of caution around digital media and the internet, and that I was schooled by people who promoted skepticism of the reach of media and technology. I look around me at people absorbed in their phones. I see them idling in their vehicles, glued to the screen while spewing exhaust fumes for the rest of us to breathe. I struggle to read a single sentence when a TV is blaring in the other room for five hours straight. I feel loneliness and wonder if the inherent bias of the many programs encountered in daily life led me there. I am struck by how hourly work, career development, socializing, entertainment, personal development and independent learning all seem to be screen-based. I too wonder if something important has been lost. And I when I hear someone watching noisy dumb videos in a public bathroom stall, I wonder, “Can’t we even shit without watching a goddamn noisy screen?”

Among the topics in Rushkoff’s freewheeling talk were “nudges.” Behavioral economists and casinos laid the foundation for these programmed prompts that push us toward the behavior the designer wants without fully taking away our choice. In a benevolent kind of nudge, you can even install an app that prompts you to do a nice thing for a colleague. He pointed out that ideally the nudge to do something nice should come from within, not from a pinging device.

He said that most people put less thought into letting an app into their mind than they do about installing it on their phone. He reminded us that in a free digital service, it is the user who is the product and it is their information that is being served up to third party companies.

He remarked correctly on the easily manipulated lefties who mobbed the MAGA hat kid on Twitter as if they had no control over their reaction to the 20 second clip.

He mentioned visiting a publisher in France who took him to her apartment to cook lunch during the middle of the workday. He marveled at how in France, employment is regulated to benefit the people, not the other way around. He mentioned visiting Italy and finding three generations of families chatting and lounging in the streets late into the evening.

He speculated that the rich, powerful people in charge of global business and finance were not stopping the current social justice movement, even though they could, because they are coming to see themselves, along with the rest of humanity, as the indigenous people who are close to being overrun by a vastly superior artificial intelligence. This, he said, is why they were not stopping the social justice movement.

I share these concerns. I want the people around me to live up to their full potential. I want to feel warm pride for those around me. This is difficult to do with someone who is expressionless and pawing at his or her phone chasing the next hit.

But I find that nudges are more annoying than destructive. When I encounter pop-ups in my browser that require a moment or two extra to search for the small, grayed-out X to dismiss it, I don’t mind. I have a readability browser extension that helps me get around this anyway. I can seek out that little X or just click the button to translate the page into a readable, ad-free article, saving me a half a second and allowing me to actually read. This is an example of a user learning to use improved tools in order to counteract another technology.

In addition, a lot of people break free from their phones quite easily. One can only scroll for so long before getting bored, putting it down, and doing something else. Even the immersive worlds of World of Warcraft and Fortnite do not grip a person forever.

I thought also of my late aunt. On her deathbed I expressed appreciation for the unfailing cards she sent to my immediate family and to a huge network of others on birthdays and other special occasions. In between painkiller-induced moments of nodding off she explained her system: she had an elaborate indexing and calendar device, and she recruited her husband to seal, stamp and mail the cards. Does this make it less special? No, it just means there was technique behind her caring art. I and many others appreciated those cards and we said so in her many remembrances. There is nothing wrong with being nudged to help a colleague or call Mom. Even if the nudge comes from an app.

Putting thought into one’s app consumption is good advice. I think people are becoming more aware of the extent to which they are tracked. I recently deleted most apps because of my phone’s performance issues. Now my main apps are email, calendar, maps, notepad, podcasts, weather, Wikipedia, and the camera. These apps are extremely useful, but I do not get drawn into them like the infinite feed-style (aka slot machine) apps like Reddit Sync, Feedly and Google Assistant.

I agree with the warning about being the product of a free service. I did not know this when I first installed Facebook in 2005. But I suspect younger people are aware of the rules of the game. They, like me, can pretty easily opt out of the mobile app, leave their phone behind, change their browser to delete all cookies on exit, and install an extension such as Disengage to counteract this kind of tracking and info collection. I doubt most people feel betrayed or victimized. And it’s clear greater protections are here (Europe’s privacy laws that now extend to US web pages) and more are on the way.

The MAGA hat kid episode is worth mentioning because it reminded me how fucking stupid Twitter is. Even if you try to show the right moral stance on Twitter, you’re still on Twitter. You are reacting quite predictably to the latest Twitter noise. Whatever side you are on, you are colored by the medium. Perhaps authors nowadays have to be on Twitter due to agreements with their publisher. But Rushkoff’s extemporaneous comments suggested that the issues foremost in his mind are put there by his Twitter feed.

The points about France and Italy were just anecdotal. Perhaps Rushkoff does not realize that people in France have been demonstrating in the streets for months about their declining standard of living. There are many exceptions to the 35-hour workweek. Unemployment is at 9% and youth unemployment is at 21%. And as for the Italy anecdote, I am sure visiting a boutique quarter of an ancient city as a tourist gives you a nice impression. That doesn’t mean they enjoy the good things in life that the rest of us have somehow lost.

The speculation about rich powerful people such as those who meet in Davos restraining themselves from stamping out social justice activism struck me as myopic. First of all, suggesting that a small group of people control world events is in the style of Alex Jones (globalist elite) and far-right claims of global Jewish power networks. There is no such thing. Second, the social justice activism of today appears intense when you are plugged into Twitter and other video feeds. But it is not out of the ordinary, and it is progressing at pretty much the same rate as ever.

I do agree that as humans we should accelerate the march of progress. But it’s not because we will need to prove our worth to a superior synthetic being anytime soon. We should do it for ourselves.

I am also forever marked by the book Enlightenment Now: The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism, and Progress by Steven Pinker and I find it to be an immunizing force against the anecdotal pessimism and hand-wringing of Rushkoff. I read this book last summer and thanks to my Kindle (another screen-bearing device) I highlighted 51 passages that I can now summon with ease. A few are highly relevant:

• But perhaps the biggest impetus to romantic militarism was declinism, the revulsion among intellectuals at the thought that ordinary people seemed to be enjoying their lives in peace and prosperity.

• This version of historical pessimism may be called root-causism: the pseudo-profound idea that every social ill is a symptom of some deep moral sickness and can never be mitigated by simplistic treatments which fail to cure the gangrene at the core. 9 The problem with root-causism is not that real-world problems are simple but the opposite: they are more complex than a typical root-cause theory allows, especially when the theory is based on moralizing rather than data.

• One rationale for this apparent paternalism is that life, health, and freedom are prerequisites to everything else, including the very act of pondering what is worthwhile in life, and so they are worthy by their very nature.That takes us back to subjective readouts, which tend to be inflated by the Availability and Negativity biases and by the gravitas market ( chapter 4 ). 8 Those who sow fear about a dreadful prophecy may be seen as serious and responsible, while those who are measured are seen as complacent and naïve.

• There is no law of complex systems that says that intelligent agents must turn into ruthless conquistadors.

• Keep some perspective. Not every problem is a Crisis, Plague, Epidemic, or Existential Threat, and not every change is the End of This, the Death of That, or the Dawn of a Post-Something Era. Don’t confuse pessimism with profundity: problems are inevitable, but problems are solvable, and diagnosing every setback as a symptom of a sick society is a cheap grab for gravitas.

• First, the claim that humans have an innate imperative to identify with a nation-state (with the implication that cosmopolitanism goes against human nature) is bad evolutionary psychology. Like the supposed innate imperative to belong to a religion, it confuses a vulnerability with a need.

• Because the cultures of politics and journalism are largely innocent of the scientific mindset, questions with massive consequences for life and death are answered by methods that we know lead to error, such as anecdotes, headlines, rhetoric, and what engineers call HiPPO (highest-paid person’s opinion).

• Science, of course, transcends national boundaries (as Chekhov noted, “There is no national science just as there is no national multiplication table”), and its ability to promote anyone’s interests comes from its foundational understanding of reality.

I hate to divide the world into two camps, but I do agree that Rushkoff falls in with the historical pessimists. He seemed to place himself on the side of humanity, and digitally-oriented people on the side of transhumanist Singularity evangelists. As if teaching coding in school is anti-human.

He also is part of a tradition that does not place much weight on data. Instead anecdotes and moral exhortations populate his books. Underneath it all is unease about the mixing of the sacred and the profane that has a place, but a small place, in most people’s day to day lives.

If there was one thing that irritated me about the talk, it was when Rushkoff complained about how universities these days “just want to teach Excel and JavaScript.” This annoyed me. If I had taken one 8-hour Excel class, it would have been more valuable to me than my entire semester of 18th century French literature. Teach the fucking kids to code. They have more practical concerns than the typical media theorist. I know a manager, whose salary I would estimate at $90 000 per year, whose job is partly to make simple templated Microsoft Word documents. This can be done by an 8th grader, but simple computer skills were just not taught in schools until recently. Plus, how can you rail against the media and technology giants while criticizing the teaching of coding in schools? It boggles the mind. With his unease and moralizing, I wonder if this man should be a rabbi instead of a professor. He did quote the Torah a couple of times…

I would like to see a follow-up with the teenagers portrayed in Merchants of Cool. I suspect they turned out fine, despite the way the documentary suggested they were being manipulated and controlled by huge corporations. They probably are well-adjusted adults with more practical things on their minds than the effect of branding and marketing on their lives. To put a finer point on it, will anyone today feel permanently marked by Twitter or Facebook 20 years from now? A few, like the MAGA hat kid, might be, but I think the platform will be just a footnote in the history of networked individuals. There are more interesting things on the way that will replace our blinking and flashing apps.

Several national medical societies came out with screen time guidelines a few years ago. In general they recommended seriously restricting screen time among kids and especially among infants. They did this as a precaution before high-quality evidence was in. Recently the evidence showed little effect of screen time on health, or showed it to be just one part of a mix of health and wellness-influencing behaviors. The societies were right to be cautious in their recommendations due to the newness of the screen time issue. As better evidence came in, they loosened their recommendations to reflect the new studies. And perhaps they realized the screen time issue was not so new, when you look back on 90 years of kids watching television. This is the approach Rushkoff should take. Data-informed caution with flexibility and openness and greater sensitivity to the challenges that the younger generations face.

Hearing pro basketball highlights while you are shitting is a minor annoyance. Seeing someone fall down while chasing a Pokemon is dumb, but not an affront to humanity. There are problems with internet ubiquity and networked lifestyles, but nothing that threatens the human team.

I had a bad experience a week ago that reinforced my view of the complexity of character.

I awoke and looked out my window to find a man on his cell phone dictating my car’s license plate number and other identification to what I assumed was an emergency dispatcher or tow service.

Before my car could be towed I put pants on over my pajamas and headed downstairs to ask him what the fuck was going on. I was parked legally. My plates and tags were current. I was ready for some kind of idiotic face-off where two uninformed and mistaken individuals shout at each other while a third party films the encounter. My heart started pounding in anticipation.

It turned out to be even dumber than expected. Two grungy individuals in a recreational vehicle (RV) had somehow destroyed the side view mirror of my 2008 Corolla and left it dangling. They also damaged the front bumper.

The woman in the passenger seat made a ruse of leaving a note (it turned out to be a blank piece of paper). Fortunately a nearby construction contractor (the man I first saw) had taken a photo that included the driver, the woman, and the license plate of the shitty RV. She had the gall to yell at him in anger for taking a photo.

Replacing the mirror ultimately cost me $265. The repair shop quoted $900 to repair the bumper, which I declined because it was basically optional, and $1000 was approaching 1/3 of the vehicle’s value.

I was really grateful to the guy from the construction site. I spoke over the phone with a detective dealing with hit-and-runs and he reinforced what I already knew: even though the license plate was known, there was little chance I would be reimbursed.

I wondered what would happen if a police officer visited this couple. Perhaps paying $265 (or over $1000) would crush them. They might have other arrest warrants for survival activities such as public dumping or stealing tap water. They are almost certainly living in that shitty RV. They might have injected heroin as soon as they woke up that morning to feed a deeply ingrained addiction. They might consider themselves harassed, sorry victims somehow.

I walked away feeling neutral. I wish I could park my car on the goddamn street without strangers fucking it up. On the other hand I was reminded that bad things happen without ill intent. That there is very little in the world that can be called evil. That the breakers and destroyers are more sloppy and inconsiderate than malicious. And that a black-caped, mustache-twirling figure is less likely to ruin your day than a fat woman in tie dye and sweatpants.

My little sister updated me and my siblings via text that she was undergoing testing for multiple sclerosis (MS).

She is 30 years old, a young healthy woman with a new house, wife, master’s degree, career and dog. Recently numbness in her abdomen had bothered her. She went in for an exam and magnetic resonance imaging confirmed transverse myelitis. However this is merely the name of a condition, not an underlying disease. The doctor counseled her that the myelitis could be an early sign of MS. So she will visit a neurologist next week for further testing. That’s when she hopes to find out what it all means.

My reaction was typical. It seemed so random. Of all the thousands of diseases out there, getting signs of MS seems like winning some shitty lottery. Fewer than 200 000 cases occur per year in the US, according to Doctor Google. I knew it affected young people, skewing toward women. Plus, the average age of diagnosis in women is 29.

I surveyed my own ignorance on the subject. I had done a bike ride for MS in the spring. But I acknowledged to a friend and rider that I knew almost nothing about the disease, and I knew no one who had it. Something about the body attacking the myelin coating of nerves. That was all I knew.

I thought about my aunt – a new Parkinson’s disease diagnosis. My other aunt – recently dead of ovarian cancer. My mom – advanced Alzheimer’s disease. My uncle – a painful, recurring fungal eye infection. My brother – depression and drug abuse. They all seemed equally likely to suffer and fade away. To fade away either suddenly or slowly (and which is more painful, when you think about it?).

The confirmatory appointment is days away. The waiting is awful for my sister. I told her to take care of herself. I resolved to check in regularly until then, as well as afterward.

But what else? What else do you do when you are jolted out of your complacency?

Refer to the quote. People living in the earliest cities 4000+ years ago faced death more frequently than we do now, in our comfortable remoteness. Some of them – the philosophers among them, the early humanists – recognized that there is no point in being stressed out, ill-humored, unfriendly. More than that – there is just not enough time. With the time you have you must speak often with the ones you care about. You must take a walk in nature and look about you. You must savor your long walks and run your hands through the reeds because tomorrow they could be cut down.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWppk7-Mti4 (At 8:51 see the quote from the epic of Gilgamesh)

I read "The Richest Man in Babylon" by George Clason after I chanced on it in a Little Free Library.

I selected the book because it is cited on the Recommended Books wiki page of the Financial Independence subreddit at https://www.reddit.com/r/financialindependence/wiki/books. I would recommend it as a short weekend read because of its simple stories illustrating financial principles that are told in the style of a biblical parable. If you are pondering a graduation gift for a 14 year old or a kid who has just gotten his or her first job, you should consider giving this book.

These are the passages I highlighted:

Money is the medium by which earthly success is measured. Money makes possible the enjoyment of the best the earth affords. Money is plentiful for those who understand the simple laws that govern its acquisition. Money is governed today by the same laws which controlled it when prosperous men thronged the streets of Babylon, six thousand years ago.

Our acts can be no wiser than our thoughts. Our thinking can be no wiser than our understanding.

Thereupon Arkad remonstrated with them, saying, “If you have not acquired more than a bare existence in the years since we were youths, it it because you either have failed to learn the laws that govern the building of wealth, or else you do not observe them.”

“‘Fickle fate’ is a vicious goddess who brings no permanent good to anyone. On the contrary, she brings ruin to almost every man upon whom she showers unearned gold. She makes wanton spenders, who soon dissipate all they receive and are left beset by overwhelming appetites and desires they have not the ability to gratify. Yet others whom she favors become misers and hoard their wealth, fearing to spend what they have, knowing they do not possess the ability to replace it. They further are beset by fear of robbers and doom themselves to lives of emptiness and secret misery.”

One may do all these things and many others in which there is delight for the senses and gratification for the soul.

And when youth comes to age for advice he receives the wisdom of years. But too often does youth think that age knows only the wisdom of days that are gone, and therefore profits not. But remember this, the sun that shines today is the sun that shone when thy father was born, and will still be shining when their last grandchild shall pass into the darkness.

Pay yourself first.

Willpower is but the unflinching purpose to carry a task you set for yourself to fulfillment. If i set for myself a task, be it ever so trifling, i shall see it through. How else shall i have confidence in myself to do important things?

‘Wealth grows wherever men exert energy,’ Arkad replied. If a rich man builds him a new palace, is the gold he pays out gone? No, the brickmaker has part of it and the laborer has part of it, and the artist has part of it. And everyone who labors upon the house has part of it. Yet when the palace is completed, is it not worth all it cost? And is the ground upon which it stands not worth more because it is there? And is the ground that adjoins it not worth more because it is there? Wealth grows in magic ways. No man can prophesy the limit of it. Have not the P

hoenicians built great cities on barren coasts with the wealth that comes from their ships of commerce upon the seas?

Live otherwise according to your income and let not yourself get niggardly and afraid to spend. Life is good and life is rich with things worthwhile and things to enjoy.

Which desirest thou the most? Is it the gratification of thy desires of each day, a jewel, a bit of finery, better raiment, more food; things quickly gone and forgotten? Or is it substantial belongings, gold, lands, herds, merchandise, income-bringing investments? The coins thou takest from thy purse bring the first. The coins thou leavest within it will bring the latter.

All men are burdened with more desires than they can gratify. Because of my wealth thinkest thou I may gratify every desire? ‘Tis a false idea. There are limits to my time. There are limits to my strength. There are limits to the distance i may travel. There are limits to what i may eat. There are limits to the zest with which i may enjoy.

Let thy motto be one hundred percent of appreciated value demanded for each coin spent.

Therefore, engrave upon the clay each thing for which though desireth to spend. Select those that are necessary and those that are possible though the expenditure of nine-tenths of thy income. Cross out the rest and consider them but a part of that great multitude of desires that must go unsatisfied and regret them not.

I tell you, my students, a man’s wealth is not in the coins he carries in his purse; it is the income he buildeth, the golden stream that continually floweth into his purse and keepeth it always bulging. That is what every man desireth. That is what thou, each one of thee desireth; an income that continueth to come whether thou worketh or travel.

Better by far to consult the wisdom of those experienced in handling money for profit.

Therefore do I say that it behooves a man to make preparation for a suitable income in the days to come, when he is no longer young.

Preceding accomplishment must be desire. Thy desires must be strong and definite. General desires are but weak longings. For a man to wish to be rich is of little purpose. For a man to desire five pieces of gold is a tangible desire which he can press to fulfillment.

Always do the affairs of men change and improve because keen-minded men seek greater skill that they may better serve those upon whose patronage they depend. Therefore, I urge all men to be in the front rank of progress and not to stand still, lest they be left behind.

…share liberally in the ample wealth of our beloved city.

We meet here to consider all sides of each question.

With all men, that first step, which changes them from men who earn from their own labor to men who draw dividends from the earnings of their gold, is important. Some, fortunately, take it when young and thereby outstrip in financial success those who do take it later or those unfortunate men, like the father of this merchant, who never take it.

[addresses procrastination]

At last, I did recognize it for what it was – a habit of needless delaying where action was required, action prompt and decisive.

So must every man master his own spirit of procrastination before he can expect to share in the rich treasures of Babylon.

Dost agree with me that no man can arrive at a full measure of success until he hath completely crushed the spirit of procrastination within him?

Those eager to grasp opportunities for their betterment, do attract the interest of the good goddess. She is ever anxious to aid those who please her. Men of action please her best. Action will lead thee forward to the successes thou dost desire.

Gold is reserved for those who know its laws and abide by them.

To earn wealth is but a slight burden upon the thoughtful man. Bearing the burden consistently from year to year accomplishes the final purpose.

Gold slippeth away from the man who invests it in businesses or purposes with which he is not familiar or which are not approved by those skilled in its keep.

Our wise acts accompany us through life to please us and to help us. Just as surely, our unwise actions follow us to plague and torment us.

If you desire to help thy friend, do so in a way that will not bring thy friend’s burdens upon thyself.

The safest loans are to those whose possessions are of more value than the one they desire. They own lands, or jewels, or camels, or other things which could be sold to repay the loan. Some of the tokens given to me are jewels of more value than the loan. Others are promises that if the loan be not repaid as agreed they will deliver to me certain property settlement. On loans like those i am assured that my gold will be returned with the rental thereon, for the loan is based on property.

Life is hard and there will always be some who cannot adjust themselves to it.

Better a little caution than a great regret.

Babylon endured century after century because it was fully protected. It could not afford to be otherwise.

The walls of Babylon were an outstanding example of man’s need and desire for protection. This desire is inherent in the human race. It is just as strong today as it ever was, but we have developed broader and better plans to accomplish the same purpose.

In this day, behind the impregnable walls of insurance, savings accounts and dependable investments, we can guard ourselves against the unexpected tragedies that may enter any door and seat themselves before any fireside.

We cannot afford to be without adequate protection.

Then a strange thing happened. All the world seemed to be of a different color as though I had been looking at it through a colored stone which had suddenly been removed. At last I saw the true values in life.

My debts were my enemies, but the men I owed were my friends for they had trusted me and believed in me.

We found the trail to babylon because the soul of a free man looks at life as a series of problems to be solved and solves them, while the soul of a slave whines, ‘What can I do who am but a slave?’

Even though I cannot meet the needs and demands of a few of my creditors I will deal impartially with all.

Who would believe there could be such a difference in results between following a financial plan and just drifting along.

Now you can understand why we would like to extend our personal thanks to that old chap whose plan saved us from our ‘hell on earth.’

He knew. He had been through it all. He wanted others to benefit from his own bitter experiences. That is why he spent tedious hours carving his message upon the clay.

Soon they would be dragged down to join other craven bodies beside the roadway to await unsanctified graves.

Remember, work, well-done, does good to the man who does it. It makes him a better man.

They were educated and enlightened people. So far as written history goes, they were the first engineers, the first astronomers, the first mathematicians, the first financiers and the first people to have a written language.

Today I joined a Microsoft Excel class to learn, pass an exam, and earn a small certificate. Toward the end of the class but before the exam the instructor paused and told us he always felt a bit sad at this time because he (in his words) grew attached to the participants, and then they got their certificate and exited quietly to avoid disrupting the rest of the test-takers.

The class duration was only from 9 am to 1:30 pm. We didn’t do introductions or share a lunch break or even have any banter. But this gentleman shared with us an unexpected moment of connection. It was genuine and much appreciated. It went along with his teaching style, which was very individualized and perceptive.

To me it served as a reminder that there are many kind, good-natured people out there if you will just pay attention. They sometimes go unnoticed amid all the noisy, ugly sloppiness and indifference that you see on a daily basis. But those small warm gestures, spoken or unspoken, help you to acknowledge the bad while not dwelling on it. They allow you to focus on the good.