C. Henry Martens's Blog
November 14, 2019
The Extinction Rebellion Experience
©2019 C. Henry Martens
The environment is under siege. Does anyone doubt it? Aquifers are being drained, the oceans are acidifying, permafrost is melting, and animals are either going extinct or threatened or moving into cities and becoming our neighbors.
So how do I begin this article?
Because I dearly wished to report something positive about the Extinction Rebellion (XR) efforts.
And to be fair... I only went to one meeting.
But after a single experience, two hours in a rather informal setting as well as a very few subsequent e-mail exchanges, it appears that I am persona non grata. I am unwelcome.
Why?
Because...
Continue Reading
The environment is under siege. Does anyone doubt it? Aquifers are being drained, the oceans are acidifying, permafrost is melting, and animals are either going extinct or threatened or moving into cities and becoming our neighbors.
So how do I begin this article?
Because I dearly wished to report something positive about the Extinction Rebellion (XR) efforts.
And to be fair... I only went to one meeting.
But after a single experience, two hours in a rather informal setting as well as a very few subsequent e-mail exchanges, it appears that I am persona non grata. I am unwelcome.
Why?
Because...
Continue Reading
November 4, 2019
8 Recommendations for Seeing Terminator: Dark Fate
©2019 Kari Carlisle
The latest installment of the Terminator franchise, Terminator: Dark Fate, is edge-of-your-seat fun! See it early and see if often; the action and visuals are pure Terminator gold.
Now, that being said, I must disclose that I am a big fan of the first TWO Terminator movies. I vaguely remember seeing bits and pieces of later T-films and just not being all that impressed. Dark Fate brings the viewer back to the good old days of Sarah Connor as one of the primary characters. If you are all in on the expanded T-universe, I cannot speak to how well this movie stacks up to canon, so I’m not going there.
If you want a good-old fashioned Terminator movie, here you go! I recommend the following:
Watch for the...
Continue Reading
The latest installment of the Terminator franchise, Terminator: Dark Fate, is edge-of-your-seat fun! See it early and see if often; the action and visuals are pure Terminator gold.
Now, that being said, I must disclose that I am a big fan of the first TWO Terminator movies. I vaguely remember seeing bits and pieces of later T-films and just not being all that impressed. Dark Fate brings the viewer back to the good old days of Sarah Connor as one of the primary characters. If you are all in on the expanded T-universe, I cannot speak to how well this movie stacks up to canon, so I’m not going there.
If you want a good-old fashioned Terminator movie, here you go! I recommend the following:
Watch for the...
Continue Reading
October 26, 2019
Review: Jojo Rabbit
©2019 Kari Carlisle
I fell in love with the Nazis in Jojo Rabbit. While that makes me terribly uncomfortable to say, in my defense, this dark comedy sheds a truly human light on individuals caught up in the fervor generated by evil people.
The movie starts with 10-year-old Jojo, played by Roman Griffin Davis, attending a Nazi youth camp, accompanied by his very real friend Yorki (Archie Yates) and his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler, played by Taika Waititi who also directed. While adamant in his enthusiasm for Hitler and against those “scary,” “mind-reading” Jews, Jojo turns out to be a pretty poor Nazi and a wonderfully sweet little boy. When told in camp to wring a rabbit’s neck, he can’t bring himself to do it, even as his leaders and other youth cry, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” and then “Jojo Rabbit! Jojo Rabbit!” as his cowardice is exposed. With unexpected wisdom, Adolf (Jojo’s imaginary friend generated by his young mind, not to be confused with the real Hitler of history) assures Jojo that rabbits are brave to live in a scary world and that Jojo is as brave as a rabbit.
Much of the movie’s humor comes from...
CONTINUE READING
I fell in love with the Nazis in Jojo Rabbit. While that makes me terribly uncomfortable to say, in my defense, this dark comedy sheds a truly human light on individuals caught up in the fervor generated by evil people.
The movie starts with 10-year-old Jojo, played by Roman Griffin Davis, attending a Nazi youth camp, accompanied by his very real friend Yorki (Archie Yates) and his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler, played by Taika Waititi who also directed. While adamant in his enthusiasm for Hitler and against those “scary,” “mind-reading” Jews, Jojo turns out to be a pretty poor Nazi and a wonderfully sweet little boy. When told in camp to wring a rabbit’s neck, he can’t bring himself to do it, even as his leaders and other youth cry, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” and then “Jojo Rabbit! Jojo Rabbit!” as his cowardice is exposed. With unexpected wisdom, Adolf (Jojo’s imaginary friend generated by his young mind, not to be confused with the real Hitler of history) assures Jojo that rabbits are brave to live in a scary world and that Jojo is as brave as a rabbit.
Much of the movie’s humor comes from...
CONTINUE READING
October 17, 2019
A Threat to Reason
©2019 C. HenryMartens
Photo by Kari Carlisle
It seems that veganism and animal rights/welfare advocates are presently getting more attention paid to them. In some ways this is good, and a positive result to some justified concerns. But there are some serious omissions in much of the information they use, especially as it applies to domesticated livestock.
I have no problem at all with people making choices for themselves. In fact, I consider the ability to make choices a very American thing to do.
But advocacy demands truth.
So here are a few thoughts on some of the context missing in vegan claims.
HEALTH: There may be some health benefits to a plant-based diet…
Continue Reading
Photo by Kari CarlisleIt seems that veganism and animal rights/welfare advocates are presently getting more attention paid to them. In some ways this is good, and a positive result to some justified concerns. But there are some serious omissions in much of the information they use, especially as it applies to domesticated livestock.
I have no problem at all with people making choices for themselves. In fact, I consider the ability to make choices a very American thing to do.
But advocacy demands truth.
So here are a few thoughts on some of the context missing in vegan claims.
HEALTH: There may be some health benefits to a plant-based diet…
Continue Reading
October 2, 2019
Guest Post: How do you plan to deal with climate change?
©2019 Scott Strough
Can we reverse global warming?But of course this plan is much more than I can do alone. So I have devised a master plan that bridges the gap between personal responsibility and broad all encompassing plans such as above.I start with learning everything I can on the subject. You can too...CONTINUE READING
September 19, 2019
Guest Post: The Natural Development of Patriarchal Societies
©2019 Molly Carter
Patriarchal societies in which women had less, little, or no power/autonomy seem to be the norm throughout history. Why was this so prevalent? What are some matriarchal societies and how did they differ from the patriarchal ones?
After writing Molly Carter's answer to What male/female double standard do you hate the most?, I’ve been thinking a lot of patriarchal societies and what that means.
And here’s where I’m at with my thoughts and analysis. Civilization and society have developed in specific ways for specific reasons. Some we can quantify, some we can’t. But one major influence for women, throughout most of human history, is the fact that she’s been ruled by childbearing and rearing responsibilities.
Before 1957 and the creation of hormonal birth control pills, there was little a woman could do to stop herself from getting pregnant. Sure there was sheepskin and coat hangers, but in reality, many women got and remained pregnant for much of their childbearing years.
And this, pregnancy and breast feeding and toddlers in tow, made women vulnerable. Pregnancy makes you large and cumbersome and having an infant attached to your breast sure makes it difficult to move quickly.
In the earliest stages of humanity, we were hunters and gatherers. Generally speaking, men in these early societies were the primary hunters, traveling away from camp for periods of time in search of large game. Women stayed close to camp and foraged while taking care of the child rearing. Both of these positions were important and it’s assumed that one was not viewed as “better” than another within these cultures...
CONTINUE READING
Patriarchal societies in which women had less, little, or no power/autonomy seem to be the norm throughout history. Why was this so prevalent? What are some matriarchal societies and how did they differ from the patriarchal ones?
After writing Molly Carter's answer to What male/female double standard do you hate the most?, I’ve been thinking a lot of patriarchal societies and what that means.
And here’s where I’m at with my thoughts and analysis. Civilization and society have developed in specific ways for specific reasons. Some we can quantify, some we can’t. But one major influence for women, throughout most of human history, is the fact that she’s been ruled by childbearing and rearing responsibilities.
Before 1957 and the creation of hormonal birth control pills, there was little a woman could do to stop herself from getting pregnant. Sure there was sheepskin and coat hangers, but in reality, many women got and remained pregnant for much of their childbearing years.
And this, pregnancy and breast feeding and toddlers in tow, made women vulnerable. Pregnancy makes you large and cumbersome and having an infant attached to your breast sure makes it difficult to move quickly.
In the earliest stages of humanity, we were hunters and gatherers. Generally speaking, men in these early societies were the primary hunters, traveling away from camp for periods of time in search of large game. Women stayed close to camp and foraged while taking care of the child rearing. Both of these positions were important and it’s assumed that one was not viewed as “better” than another within these cultures...
CONTINUE READING
September 4, 2019
Guest Post: IMO, Bunker Survival is Crazy!
©2014 Damian Brindle
I can only imagine trying to survive in an underground bunker post-SHTF or for any reason, really. I know it sounds like a workable plan but it is, in my opinion, likely a horrible experience, to say the least. Granted, it’s probably better than death by nukes or hordes of zombies.
August 22, 2019
Short Story: Electable
©2019 C. Henry Martens
Courtesy of Independentman
I'm not really sure how it started. But I'm sure it was over one too many drinks. I'd ranted to my friends often enough about social ills, economics, and what “shoulda been done,” and finally one of them, Billy “The Chadster” Foster, challenged me to put up or shut up. And one thing led to another, and somehow people were inspired by a guy that didn't care whether they voted for him or not. I mean, enough people were fed up that they were willing to listen to unvarnished truth... or at least the fantasies I conjured in my head as I looked out over the world and judged it.
Being elected was a million to one shot... hell, a billion to one shot... but somehow Thomas P. Lowry managed to be the choice of the electorate for the office of the Presidency of the United States of America. The first and only truly independent never-a-politician in the history of a great and fading nation.
I was destined to be the worst President in the history of Presidents, or an accidental... naw, that was wishful thinking.
But I got my revenge on Billy Foster. I made him promise early on that he would be my Chief of Staff if I won, and with all of his faults, The Chadster had always kept his promises.
We walked into the Oval Office together. Billy in jeans that had seen better days, and me in my favorite sandals. We didn't plan on putting on airs.
Kyle Dillon met us, he being the outgoing Chief of Staff. He was dressed in a dark suit, blue shirt, and broad tie, and probably the shiniest shoes I'd ever seen.
He pushed the box he was filling with knickknacks to the side of the Presidential desk and then placed it on the top of two other boxes stacked on a hand truck.
His eyes scoped me out, top to bottom, and if I didn't play poker I might have missed the micro-sneer that passed through his eyes as they met mine.
He covered it well, though, extending a surprisingly beefy hand and exuding what appeared to be genuine warmth as he proclaimed, “Jerry,” the former President, “left yesterday. He didn't have the stomach for watching you sit behind his desk.” There it was again, that flash of disdain masked by false cheerfulness.
“Prick never did have much for balls,” Billy said in a low voice as though what he said was only for my ears.
Both Dillon and I knew the ejaculation was meant to be heard by both of us, but he was beyond taking the bait from someone so far beneath him.
We had all met several times already, including the former President, making a show of a calm and orderly transfer of power. The truth was it was anything but. The status quo power structure had done everything it could, under the table, to delegitimize my win. Somehow the smart people in my campaign organization and the voters had foiled their attempts. That's what you get when the voters get angry enough. So now it was time for Kyle to leave, and I actually felt some sympathy for him. But not much.
“One last thing to do, Tom,” Dillon had steadfastly refused to call me by my title as proper protocol demanded. I didn't really care. We were going to shake up some of the ingrained procedures anyway. Might as well start with the respect I never felt I'd earned.
“What's that,” I asked, “a tour of the dish room?”
Dillon laughed. A surprisingly lighthearted exclamation that immediately made me wonder if I had hit some kind of hidden truth, which led me to wonder if there was a reason this staid and shackled-to-the-status-quo man suddenly felt like a weight was being lifted from him.
I supposed that was possible. I mean after all, he was leaving the big responsibilities behind.
The Chadster (a nickname inspired by Billy's ability to suck young women into his thrall) spoke up, not making eye contact but appearing to be intent on inspecting the Oval Office walls and construction.
“He probably wants us to carry his bags to his car.”
Again Dillon chuckled as though understanding an inside joke. As a guy that plays poker well enough that I usually go home with more money than I came with, his demeanor made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
The former Chief of Staff shook his head and made a motion to invite us to the bookcase built into the wall to his right.
The curve of the office gave the walls empty spaces behind them, I supposed. A good place to build in a book case. Otherwise the empty space would be wasted. I looked around and noticed a door at the opposite side of the room, one of the empty spaces that had been converted into an adjoining bathroom when the White House was plumbed for modern conveniences.
But what the bookcase held I could not fathom.
Kyle reached up to take a book from the head high shelf and after removing it he reached into the space created as though pushing against the inside of the case.
Silently, the case swung out over the plush carpet.
I couldn't help noticing Kyle Dillon's eyes. He was enjoying this... but there was an odd sadness behind his eyes, too.
“There are only three people in the country that know about this room,” Dillon said ominously. “You two... and me.”
I had to ask as it occurred to me immediately, “What about Jerry?”
The exiting Chief of Staff looked me in the eye...
Continue Reading
Courtesy of IndependentmanI'm not really sure how it started. But I'm sure it was over one too many drinks. I'd ranted to my friends often enough about social ills, economics, and what “shoulda been done,” and finally one of them, Billy “The Chadster” Foster, challenged me to put up or shut up. And one thing led to another, and somehow people were inspired by a guy that didn't care whether they voted for him or not. I mean, enough people were fed up that they were willing to listen to unvarnished truth... or at least the fantasies I conjured in my head as I looked out over the world and judged it.
Being elected was a million to one shot... hell, a billion to one shot... but somehow Thomas P. Lowry managed to be the choice of the electorate for the office of the Presidency of the United States of America. The first and only truly independent never-a-politician in the history of a great and fading nation.
I was destined to be the worst President in the history of Presidents, or an accidental... naw, that was wishful thinking.
But I got my revenge on Billy Foster. I made him promise early on that he would be my Chief of Staff if I won, and with all of his faults, The Chadster had always kept his promises.
We walked into the Oval Office together. Billy in jeans that had seen better days, and me in my favorite sandals. We didn't plan on putting on airs.
Kyle Dillon met us, he being the outgoing Chief of Staff. He was dressed in a dark suit, blue shirt, and broad tie, and probably the shiniest shoes I'd ever seen.
He pushed the box he was filling with knickknacks to the side of the Presidential desk and then placed it on the top of two other boxes stacked on a hand truck.
His eyes scoped me out, top to bottom, and if I didn't play poker I might have missed the micro-sneer that passed through his eyes as they met mine.
He covered it well, though, extending a surprisingly beefy hand and exuding what appeared to be genuine warmth as he proclaimed, “Jerry,” the former President, “left yesterday. He didn't have the stomach for watching you sit behind his desk.” There it was again, that flash of disdain masked by false cheerfulness.
“Prick never did have much for balls,” Billy said in a low voice as though what he said was only for my ears.
Both Dillon and I knew the ejaculation was meant to be heard by both of us, but he was beyond taking the bait from someone so far beneath him.
We had all met several times already, including the former President, making a show of a calm and orderly transfer of power. The truth was it was anything but. The status quo power structure had done everything it could, under the table, to delegitimize my win. Somehow the smart people in my campaign organization and the voters had foiled their attempts. That's what you get when the voters get angry enough. So now it was time for Kyle to leave, and I actually felt some sympathy for him. But not much.
“One last thing to do, Tom,” Dillon had steadfastly refused to call me by my title as proper protocol demanded. I didn't really care. We were going to shake up some of the ingrained procedures anyway. Might as well start with the respect I never felt I'd earned.
“What's that,” I asked, “a tour of the dish room?”
Dillon laughed. A surprisingly lighthearted exclamation that immediately made me wonder if I had hit some kind of hidden truth, which led me to wonder if there was a reason this staid and shackled-to-the-status-quo man suddenly felt like a weight was being lifted from him.
I supposed that was possible. I mean after all, he was leaving the big responsibilities behind.
The Chadster (a nickname inspired by Billy's ability to suck young women into his thrall) spoke up, not making eye contact but appearing to be intent on inspecting the Oval Office walls and construction.
“He probably wants us to carry his bags to his car.”
Again Dillon chuckled as though understanding an inside joke. As a guy that plays poker well enough that I usually go home with more money than I came with, his demeanor made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
The former Chief of Staff shook his head and made a motion to invite us to the bookcase built into the wall to his right.
The curve of the office gave the walls empty spaces behind them, I supposed. A good place to build in a book case. Otherwise the empty space would be wasted. I looked around and noticed a door at the opposite side of the room, one of the empty spaces that had been converted into an adjoining bathroom when the White House was plumbed for modern conveniences.
But what the bookcase held I could not fathom.
Kyle reached up to take a book from the head high shelf and after removing it he reached into the space created as though pushing against the inside of the case.
Silently, the case swung out over the plush carpet.
I couldn't help noticing Kyle Dillon's eyes. He was enjoying this... but there was an odd sadness behind his eyes, too.
“There are only three people in the country that know about this room,” Dillon said ominously. “You two... and me.”
I had to ask as it occurred to me immediately, “What about Jerry?”
The exiting Chief of Staff looked me in the eye...
Continue Reading
August 8, 2019
How to Build a Solar Still and Save Your Life
©2019 C. Henry Martens
How long can a human being function without water? In cool weather, perhaps three days, in hot, as little as one day. And death follows similarly. Cool weather, about five days and in hot, about two days.
So when the faucet goes dry, what do you do?
If you have a high-tech purification option in your back pocket, like desalination or reverse osmosis, then fine... but usually these methods are not easily portable and are usually limited by geography.
If you are in dire straits, a place with no potable water, a simple low-tech water purifier can be a life saver...
CONTINUE READING
July 25, 2019
The Goldfish in a Pond
©2019 C. Henry Martens
I was visiting a pond in the middle of nowhere, a small pool of water in the Nevada desert. It was cool and inviting, the banks shaded under the burning summer sun.
There was evidence of feral horse activity all around the watering hole, dragonflies zoomed around above it, and looking into the depths, I could discern all kinds of life. Little black beetles scurried about on the bottom carrying minuscule silvery air bubbles underneath their bodies. Reddish, hair-like plants rose from the muddy depths. Tiny fish swarmed and scattered.
The ecosystem worked. It worked without any human being interfering or improving or redesigning it.
Not long after I visited this perfect little world, I returned to find someone had released a few small goldfish into the pond.
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