It is so quiet now….

A repurposed photo from Barcelona BCV (before Corona Virus)

So quiet without tweeting from the demented twit. To wit the twit flew south a bit, much like a tit, and now is heard no more. I doubt it’ll stay this quiet but I’ll take it as it comes. The woods around me are quiet too. There is the occasional burst from an AK-47 in the woods. A sound that travels. Must be someone playing freedom fighter. For me that sort of ammunition is too expensive. My 10-22 is too economical to defend freedom and I’m too soft hearted to kill squirrels. The Kalashnikov burst is often directed upward, Lebanese fireworks – I believe its called, is much like “burning” rubber. A particularly gringo expression of “joie la vivre”. Charred tire lingers on the asphalt roads for years. With so few walls for taggers (graffiti artists) in the boonies roads serve as canvas. Not an inexpensive medium, tire rubber, for self expression. A combination of performance, dance, sound, a bit of adrenalin as your vehicle dances that Cajun rhythm just like a Willy’s in four wheel drive. Maybe it is a Willys in four wheel drive, I wouldn’t know – I never hear this art as its created. Only later do I see the long swirls and delicate loops of burnt Goodyear or Michelin. They stretch for dozens of feet on the ridge road or route 17 beside Chickawaki pond. Must give a warm feeling to the burned rubber artist when he sees it years later. A lingering testament to his youth and his father’s money. His father’s money financed the lingering art exhibition, buying the tires. I haven’t driven over it as much of late. I stay in. Partly the winter and partly the virus. The old habit of going to Walmart to buy a single toothpick or some such excuse doesn’t cut it now. Passing the golden arches and passing up their greasy burgers (marked down, buy two get a third free!) has lost me eighty-five pounds. I know, dear reader, how is that possible … you only weighing 85 pounds! Another example of this varied and eclectic universe we live in. Like just the other day, my daughter said….”Dad, why don’t you get excited about Atlantis? why do you prefer Doggerland?”. “Because”, I replied, looking over my bifocals father like, “Doggerland has evidence of human habitation but no mythology while Atlantis is only myth, no evidence”. Myth, That song by Donovan for instance. “Way down below the ocean is where I long to be, she may be…..” and so on. I like the song, a lot. I sing it in my head when I should be paying attention. The evidence of people living in what is now sea bottom is dredged up spear fishing points and stone tools. The myth of Atlantis often includes high technology, a mythical advanced civilization. They must have been advanced to hide their abandoned stuff so well. Our old refrigerators and cars will be hard for the people of 50,000 years hence to not trip over. But myth and fantasy are being preferred these days to science. Entertain me! the youth demand, its what they’ve been accustomed to. Reality isn’t enough. To me however, it is fascinating to “know” that over a thousand generations of people lived in Doggerland. The now flooded land between England and Holland. And that the Rhine and the Themes rivers were but tributories of an un named river that flowed south. Its delta has been the source of much of the sand dredged up to cement modern England. “Flat earth” she said, “what about that? Have an open mind, don’t shut out ideas”, she said. I just joined the AAAS I told her. The American Association for the Advancement of Science. I feel bound to follow evidence and logic and the rational. Hearing critical questioning taken to absurd extremes reminds me of how important scientific method is. The flat Earth of Terry Pratchett is fine but its not reality. I can relate to science fiction because I grew up on it. The sci fi I devoured as a youth was called “hard” sci fi. That is hardware, technologies of the future, rather than fantasy, wizards and warlocks. Elan Musk builds a space ship in Texas. It looks like the ships on the covers of pulp sci fi from the 50’s….but it does fly, and hover. I expect it will make it to Mars some day. To go from an artist’s fantasy of cover art to a machine that delivers is engineering which is based on science. Fantasy isn’t enough. Not to hurt anyone’s feelings, but fantasy alone, is the lazy way of traveling to Mars.

Published by glensketch

Retired from electronics industry. Ex USN ex USAF ex expat in Ecuador.

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