This video gives an extraordinary explanation of the evolution of community, it helps explain how the world may save part of itself. Look at the kids under 20--I find that they have a very different attitude about people and the world than those just ahead of them, and different from my generation which was all about personal political and emotional growth.
Rifkin theory of evolving empathy
Essays, links and visuals highlighting an alternative, resilient place at the strategic crescent of one mighty river.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Does God Hate New Orleans
(The short answer is ummm no, and even if there is a higher being, he would just tell ALL of us to use our brains and resources intelligently and stop fucking things up. And to leave New Orleans alone which is doing better than a lot of gott-dammned cities.)
Full question and response
Full question and response
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
from one hometown girl to another
Like myself, Susan Orlean is a native Clevelander who left and will probably never live there again. She certainly belongs to the East Coast now, as I do to the Gulf Coast. At least in my mind. For both of us.
The italicized is a classic Susan Orlean matter-of-factly-appropriately-stated observation of a painful situation (to some people). I say that its classic because she always speaks so clearly about people and I think gets to the real intent of her subjects that she can seem witchly; as an example see the character styled after her (and named after her and based on her writing on orchid thieves, but not her) in the movie Adaptation.
She is speaking here of the overly famous situation in which a very talented basketball player recently left the Cleveland team, but you could substitute engineering disasters or oil spills or any town's issues:
I refuse to talk about Cleveland’s magnetic attraction to loss and pain, including, but not limited to, its sports teams. I refuse to talk about the special, inevitable protesting-too-much nature of being a Cleveland native and the defensive posture you must always assume every time anyone (everyone) chuckles over the city’s burning river, its feckless politicians, its glamourless character, its jinxes, its curses. I also refuse to watch the rest of the basketball playoffs on principle—I’m not sure what that principle really is, but still, it feels like there ought to be one that covers the bruised heart of a hometown fan of an unfairly maligned hometown, far away from home.
The italicized is a classic Susan Orlean matter-of-factly-appropriately-stated observation of a painful situation (to some people). I say that its classic because she always speaks so clearly about people and I think gets to the real intent of her subjects that she can seem witchly; as an example see the character styled after her (and named after her and based on her writing on orchid thieves, but not her) in the movie Adaptation.
She is speaking here of the overly famous situation in which a very talented basketball player recently left the Cleveland team, but you could substitute engineering disasters or oil spills or any town's issues:
I refuse to talk about Cleveland’s magnetic attraction to loss and pain, including, but not limited to, its sports teams. I refuse to talk about the special, inevitable protesting-too-much nature of being a Cleveland native and the defensive posture you must always assume every time anyone (everyone) chuckles over the city’s burning river, its feckless politicians, its glamourless character, its jinxes, its curses. I also refuse to watch the rest of the basketball playoffs on principle—I’m not sure what that principle really is, but still, it feels like there ought to be one that covers the bruised heart of a hometown fan of an unfairly maligned hometown, far away from home.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Thursday, July 08, 2010
PHRIMSERS and BLACK GOLD by Corbin Evans
I love this limerick by my friend Corbin Evans, award-winning chef and laid back shorts-wearin' guy:
PHRIMSERS and BLACK GOLD
Phrimsers are bundles of brawn & guts,
Hardened by storms and painted coconuts;
‘The weather,’ many say,
‘May end their long days,’
Who knew it would be nothing of the such.
As Black Gold lurked deep down below,
Deeper even than the fish aglow,
Close to the core
Faceless men did bore,
Ashore no one dreamt the Gold could flow.
Faux Pols stutter, flubber and all quack
‘The Gold, we most certainly, must not let lack;
‘So what!... if some birds and bait
Expire before their use by date,
Dependence on the Gold must not slack.’
Yet mills of wind and panels del sol,
Could be the bright future from North to South Pole,
If only from plastic bottles and bags we could ween,
And happily sustain ourselves on a planet green,
Instead of warming globally and selling our soul.
Our food is unsafe and our bellies heartache,
As BP destroys the earth for profits sake;
The wetlands are on the brink,
Our culture nearly extinct,
Lucky if ever again sweet, brown Phrims we taste from the lake.
PHRIMSERS and BLACK GOLD
Phrimsers are bundles of brawn & guts,
Hardened by storms and painted coconuts;
‘The weather,’ many say,
‘May end their long days,’
Who knew it would be nothing of the such.
As Black Gold lurked deep down below,
Deeper even than the fish aglow,
Close to the core
Faceless men did bore,
Ashore no one dreamt the Gold could flow.
Faux Pols stutter, flubber and all quack
‘The Gold, we most certainly, must not let lack;
‘So what!... if some birds and bait
Expire before their use by date,
Dependence on the Gold must not slack.’
Yet mills of wind and panels del sol,
Could be the bright future from North to South Pole,
If only from plastic bottles and bags we could ween,
And happily sustain ourselves on a planet green,
Instead of warming globally and selling our soul.
Our food is unsafe and our bellies heartache,
As BP destroys the earth for profits sake;
The wetlands are on the brink,
Our culture nearly extinct,
Lucky if ever again sweet, brown Phrims we taste from the lake.
Biek sharing in Mid City we're #20 now!
let's vote for one zip code in our city to get bike sharing.
B-cycle is a next-gen bike-sharing system. In layman’s terms: B-cycles are magic bikes that are there when you want one and gone when you don’t. Just swipe your card, grab a bike, and get to where you’re going.
Vote for 70119
B-cycle is a next-gen bike-sharing system. In layman’s terms: B-cycles are magic bikes that are there when you want one and gone when you don’t. Just swipe your card, grab a bike, and get to where you’re going.
Vote for 70119
Monday, July 05, 2010
flipbook history of pretty much everything
Okay, not so much about New Orleans but satisfying in its own way about "progress".
flipbook-a-brief-history-of-pretty-much-everything
flipbook-a-brief-history-of-pretty-much-everything
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Abandoned
Abandoned - Pixcetera Blog
There is something about abandoned buildings that speak to me and maybe that's part of why I like old cities and particularly, New Orleans. These are not of New Orleans but somehow show man's folly and man's dreams at the same time, which seem appropriate for my NOLa blog.
There is something about abandoned buildings that speak to me and maybe that's part of why I like old cities and particularly, New Orleans. These are not of New Orleans but somehow show man's folly and man's dreams at the same time, which seem appropriate for my NOLa blog.
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