12.07.2011

On Our Republic

I Just finished reading: 


A Republic, If You Can Keep It  (buy here on Amazon and I get a cut) 

I've found it prescient.  It was written in 1972, yet speaks to many issues of the day, such as Occupy Wall Street and our stalled congress.  I thought I'd share an excerpt from the book's closing chapter, enjoy:
...It is not belief in or loyalty to the status quo that is essential to responsible citizenship.  It cannot be overstated: we must believe in the purposes for which the government as created; the democratic process by which those purpose can be achieved; and a commitment to an open society with individual liberty, political freedom and equal opportunity for every citizen.

We must believe in law because where there is no law there can be no freedom, particularly for the less advantaged members of society.  When law breaks down, anarchy prevails.  We must look at law, however, not only as an instrument of authority designed to punish but as a means for declaring what is right and prohibiting what is wrong to provide protection for every individual.

The responsible citizen does not live in isolation.  He recognizes that he is a part of a community, a state and a nation, and that in playing his part he must act in relation to, and with consideration for, all others.  His relation to his government, then, is not exclusive-it is shared with all others on an equal basis.  That means that is we are to be useful none of us can be arbitrary and insist upon everything being done to our liking. There must be an underlying appreciation for the necessity of tolerance.  As our Founding Fathers understood, even when our country was small and homespun in its way of life, there was a need for adjustment and compromise to bring the nation into being with a reasonable prospect of success. Now in our greatly enlarged society, every citizen must recognize the infinitely greater necessity to adjust his thoughts and actions to those of the community.  

I'd be curious to hear people's thoughts on these ideas, please share them.

10.09.2011

The Faces of OccupyWallStreet




Found Ger(w)aldo



The Drum Circle


Ominous...








Jimmy McMillan Himself.  The rent is not all that's too damn high! 




You can't close your eyes to the Revolution, Corporate America!

Proof OWS are not ALL dirty hippies...





Ah the Accordion, Traditional Instrument of the Revolution

Who Can Argue with That?

"American Stock Exchange"






10.06.2011

On an Occupied WallSteet: A Solution


How might the OccupyWallSreet movement effect the changes they seek in the American system? 

To start, by leveling the economic playing field.  The current system requires manufacturers within the US to meet pollution, labor, wage, healthcare and other standards.  These standards impose costs on manufacturers, with the intent of benefiting society.  These standards of manufacturing are not required for goods imported from abroad.  America has thus imposed a double standard, and the American worker suffers as a result of this contradiction.  In the US hourly compensation for production workers was $23.82 in 2006, compared to around $8.00 an hour in Asia (Source).  Not to mention the staggering environmental compliance costs.  Why build American when there are far less costly foreign alternatives?  Competition almost requires corporations to avail themselves of these alternatives.

A solution to the complaints put forth by OccupyWallSreet might be found in advocating for the implementation of regulations requiring that all imported goods meet the same standards as those goods manufactured within the US.  This would level the economic playing field and encourage better working conditions across the globe.  Corporations export or avoid much of the cost of production by manufacturing and importing from aboard, including significant environmental costs.  This solution encourages a higher environmental standard as well.  

By requiring basic pollution, labor, wage and similar standards for all imported goods, America could solve its unemployment woes.  By leveling the playing field, not only would the US raise the global manufacturing standard, it would make its own workers competitive again.  Just as cars must meet safety and pollution standards to be sold within the US regardless of where they are built, so too all goods should meet the basic working and manufacturing standards required here.


Written in conjunction with Larry Grange.  We would appreciate any comments on these thoughts. 

8.28.2011

Short Story

I wrote this in college.  I thought it timely to post now, what with a hurricane about:



Andrew’s Sacrifice
By: A.F. Grange

Andrew cruised northward across the Atlantic.  Winds propelled him while his one clear eye searched out across the ocean.  A growing hunger welled up in him, as he had yet to find satiation.  

In a darkened room in Florida City, near Miami, a man sat and listened to the patter of raindrops at the window.  Deep in thought, he absent mindedly rubbed his thumb across his chapped lips.  A weeks worth of pills lay on a circular table before him.  They were organized into an intricate spiraling pattern.  He leaned forward and adjusted a yellow, tubular shaped pill a fraction of an inch.
 The rain brings him...it’s the rain that brings him.
His head jerked to the left slightly, as his body slowly rocked back and forth.  He continued to rub the dead skin around his mouth with one hand, while the other presided over the pills.  Sores had stared to open up at the corners of his lips.  He registered none of this.
Somewhere in his consciousness a T.V. droned.
 “Andrew has just been upgraded from tropical storm to hurricane status.  It is definitely growing in strength,” a news anchor said. “All of southern Florida is under full evacuation, as the storm’s projected path takes it directly over Miami…”
He will be here soon.  I must prepare for his arrival. 
She must be prepared.
The man stood up and walked to the window.  He opened the faded curtains to reveal a bleak urban scene.  He gazed up at the grey clouds and tried to follow the individual rain drops with his eye.  They whispered to him.  Without looking down, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.  He pressed two and put it to his ear. 

Susanne tried to ignore the gloom around her.  She knew the rain was only a scout for the infinitely more powerful storm behind it, but she ignored the anxiety this thought caused to well up in her.
“Why, all this rain will help my garden,” she thought and looked out her living room window at her soaked flowers.  Even they looked depressed to her.  She sighed despite herself. 
“Well, I can get some reading done at least.”  She picked up her book from the brown coffee table in front of her, but before she had a chance to escape into it, the phone rang.  
“I wonder who that is.”  She picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”
“Hi,” said a voice that sounded as though it had not been used in a while.
 “Hi.  You don’t sound so good.  Is everything all right?”
She heard a throat being cleared.  “I-I’m just nervous” said the voice at the other end.
“About the storm?” she asked.
After a pause came, “Yes.”  The man’s voice sounded far away in the telephone receiver.  
“Do you want come over here?” My house is solid brick, much safer than your place,” Suzanne said, “Maybe you’ll feel better with some company.”
“Yes.  That would be best,” she heard the voice say.
“Ok, I’ll see you soon,” she said.
Susanne hung up the receiver and stared out the window.  The rain hypnotized her.  The falling drops seemed to intensify as she stared.  Her eyes glazed over as she fell deeper into thought. 
Should we evacuate?  What if this storm is dangerous?  He better be careful driving in these conditions…
After shaking away the hypnosis, Suzanne got up and went into her kitchen.  She still felt slightly entranced, as if only recognizing her actions a moment after they occurred.  She soon found herself sitting at her kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea while staring out at the grey day.

The winds urged Andrew towards Florida.  There he could fill his growing need.  There he could find satisfaction.

“Why are you doing this?” Suzanne said to the man she thought she had known well.  He made no answer.  She struggled against the ropes that bound her arms and legs.  Outside, the wind and rain pounded loudly against the window, while debris was propelled down the street.  A low pitched growl was barely perceptible as the storm moved ever closer.
When he first arrived at her house, Suzanne thought the ropes he carried were for securing the windows or something.  When he rushed her she was caught off guard and fell to the floor.  He quickly used the ropes to tie her instead. 
 “Please, just untie me,” she said as she wrestled against the ropes, “Why are you doing this?” 
The man moved to her head where he tied a red bandana around her eyes.  She screamed in fright.
“Don’t make me gag you too.  He wouldn’t prefer it that way,” was the last thing she heard before darkness enveloped her.  The man started to drag her out the door and into the back yard.

The craving that began to gnaw at Andrew abated slightly as he made landfall.  He progressed slowly across the southern tip of Florida, consuming all that lay before him, like a hungry man at an all you can eat buffet.  His great twisting arms reached out and slammed against the buildings and trees in his path.  Windows shattered and power lines whipped about in agony.  Andrew found satisfaction.

Outside in a beautiful sunny day, Suzanne ran around her house to her driveway where the man’s car was parked.  It was strangely untouched by the storm.  She knew the calm weather was temporary and would last only as long as the storm’s great eye stared down at her.  She felt strangely as though someone was watching her.  This she explained away as paranoia from the terrible incident she just narrowly escaped.  She was still in shock as she drove away as quickly as she could, while swerving to avoid the strewn wreckage.  
“What was the matter with him?” she thought to herself.  In her panic to escape, Suzanne failed to notice the mound of pill bottles in the passenger seat beside her.  After she made a particularly violent swerve to avoid an up turned dumpster, the bottles rolled about and caught her attention.  She picked one up.
“He was on medication?  I had no idea…”
This partially explained why her backyard looked like a scene from a sacrificial ceremony.  She would never figure out, though, how a shard of flying glass both cut her ropes without breaking her skin and also killed her attacker.  It was as though some unseen hand purposely set her free.  The man she once thought of as a friend, lay mutilated in her back yard, as though some ravenous beast had consumed him.  Suzanne clicked the radio on to find out more about the storm and take her mind off that terrible image. 
Over the static she heard, “Andrew has veered slightly southward, only hitting the southern most part of Miami.  The storm’s eye seems to have stalled somewhat over Florida City, as it makes its way back out to sea.  For those of you left in the area, remain indoors.  The storm is not over, repeat, stay in doors.”
Suzanne brushed away matted hair from her face with one hand as she drove.  Tears began to fall down her wet cheeks.  She knew not where to go; only that she needed to get away from the sickening scene and into some kind of shelter.  There was little choice of direction for her in any case, as some intersections were blocked entirely by rubble and others were left clear.  It was as though someone laid out a specific path for her to follow. 
After driving under clear skies for a half an hour, Suzanne found herself at a hurricane shelter where she parked her car and ran inside.  There she survived the remainder of the storm.  She emerged to start sorting out the confusing events of the past hours and the rest of her life.

Finally sated, Andrew sailed back out to sea and expired.  He gave one last satisfied sigh.  The last thing his single great eye beheld was the thin, white backbone of coast receding behind him. 

8.15.2011

Central Park Discovery

I saw this in Central Park the other day and wondered what it was:


I wonder if it's related to this (reblogged from boingboing):

19th-c. African-American village unearthed in what is now NYC’s Central Park: "



Just a few months ago, anthropologists and historians finally received permission from the city of New York to begin digging in an area of Central Park (near 85th Street and Central Park West): a critical step in a decades-long quest to reveal the history of an African-American community destroyed in the 1850s by the creation of Central Park. From a New York Times article (published a couple weeks ago):


While the borings of the past produced just a few artifacts, the dig [ which ended on July 29, 2011—XJ ], generated 250 bags of material that should keep the scholars busy for months, if not years. The work on Wednesday alone yielded a toothbrush handle fashioned of bone and the lid of a stoneware jar.

About two-thirds of the residents of Seneca Village were African-American, while the rest were of European descent, mostly Irish. The community was settled in the 1820s, a few years before slavery was abolished in New York. Despite old news reports that the village was a squatter camp, it was, in fact, made up of working- and middle-class property owners.


More in the NYT, and here is the website for the Seneca Village Project. They have more images and panoramas from the excavation.
From a statement by project co-directors Nan Rothschild (Barnard College, Columbia University) and Diana Wall (City College of New York, CUNY), about the more than 250 bags of artifacts that will now be washed and analyzed in labs:




Best of all, many of these artifacts can be associated with two specific households. We found the foundation walls and many objects from inside the home of William Godfrey Wilson, a sexton for All Angels' Church who lived in a 3-storey home near the church with his wife and eight children, and we excavated the backyard of Nancy Moore's home (later occupied by the Webster family a bit to the southeast.


In the latter area we found the buried surface dating to the period of the Village, the ground on which the Villagers walked and on which they discarded many sherds of broken plates and glass, pieces of smoking pipes and butchered animal bone (apparently mostly beef) which suggests that someone in the Village vicinity was able to do butchering. From this area we hope to be able to recover information on the environment, including plants that were native to the Village and those representing the foods that were consumed there. After the lab analysis is complete we will be able to provide information on the lives of the residents of this community, bringing them into the present and making them part of New York City's known history.
(via Farai Chideya on G+)

8.07.2011

Some more on the Gotogography

Here are some more Gotos:





In the meantime, I've decided to gather like minded Photogs and start a group to share photo related thoughts and aspirations. If you're interested in being involved, let us know!

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8.02.2011

On the Gotography

Photography!  It feels good to be making photos again, which I have been doing much more of thanks to the discovery of micro-four thirds cameras.  They are the way of the future (the way of the future, the way of the future) if you ask me.  



They are small enough to carry along, which means more street photography for me.  I have some more photos to post shortly.

2.14.2011

Revolution Heat Map

Any Suggestions for this Map I made?

doodle.png.png  on Aviary


Update: Libya added and Iran darkened to orange.

Update #2: added Djibouti and indicators to places where protesters were fired upon.

Update #3: added Ivory Coast.

Update #4: More places where protesters were fired upon added, and Saudi Arabia darkened to Orange.