C. Henry Martens's Blog, page 15

Ouch, Today I Adopted a Highway

©2016 Kari Carlisle


I would really like to chop off my leg at the knee right now. Don’t worry. I’m not going to. I’ll tell you why in a minute…
Today I volunteered along with a dozen or so colleagues to pick up litter along a stretch of highway near my workplace. If you’ve read this recent post of mine about cleaning up garbage, you know how I feel about it. I’m not going to talk about that here. I’m going to focus on safety.
From my experience picking up trash at our nearby lake, I knew that doing so poses some risks. You can get cut by sharp objects, bites and stings can surprise you, and certain items can harbor dangerous bacteria. I’m here to tell you that until you pick up highway litter, you ain’t seen nuthin.
We began the day with some orientation from the state transportation department. We had already been told to wear long pants, long sleeves, hat, sunscreen, etc. Gloves were provided and safety vests required. I already knew that safety concerns include weather, wildlife, desert plants (we’re in Arizona), and sometimes the trash itself. But I was in for some surprises.
We were warned not to pick up any flashlights and absolutely not to attempt to turn on any flashlights. Why? Because they can explode. Seriously, three flashlights found in the Phoenix area exploded when people tried to see if they were functional. Is someone making flashlight bombs?
Then we were informed that people who make meth have a habit of disposing their toxic waste out the car window so as not to get caught with it. Don’t pick up anything you don’t know what it is.
Don’t pick up broken glass, pee bottles, anything sharp, syringes, car batteries, anything you suspect to be hazardous.
Don’t go within six feet of the pavement. No roughhousing. Don’t distract drivers.
I was starting to wonder what I was really in for. Surely there are no meth labs in our little town….
Finally, our teams headed out to our designated sections, and I enthusiastically began filling my first bag with aluminum cans, paper cups, glass bottles, Styrofoam plates… the usual stuff.
We worked our way along the roadside, and after a ways I looked down at a small scattering of… something. What is that? I bent over, examining the small find, and realized I was looking at several razor blades. Sharp. Don’t pick up sharp items. I alerted one of the guys following behind me and moved on, leaving the danger behind for the “professionals” to find later.
A little further along, several of us grouped together in a section particularly heavy with garbage. It was weedy, and I felt a little sharp prick on the back of my leg. I moved away from the weeds and started to rub my leg. Another prick. And another.
I started jumping up and down and yelled out as my team looked at me with puzzled expressions, words I never thought I’d say, “I have ants in my pants!”
“Really?” asked one of the guys, and then all of a sudden, all of us were jumping up and down, stomping, slapping, shirts off (not mine), and getting the bleep out of there as we were all attacked. We skipped that section and moved on.
After that I found several more items I chose not to pick up, as well as some strange things, including a complete outfit (shirt, pants, socks, gloves, and not one, but two pair of tighty whities), a pile of 27 mini liquor bottles (that I hope were drunk by at least a dozen people), several plastic clothes hangers, and other things you just don’t expect to find along a highway.
Finally, the end in sight, we converged with the other teams. Just a few more yards to go. Just a few more bits of garbage to bag.
Another prick. Ouch! More ants. Stomp, stomp. Keep walking… only this time my leg started burning. Fire ant.

The burn got worse very quickly, and I got a ride home. I have spent the entire rest of the day in pain that is exacerbated by activity. So my husband is in charge of dinner, and I’m watching Live from ComiCon on Syfy while I wrap up this blog post with my leg immobilized and under ice. I’ll be asleep pretty soon now that I’ve taken a Benadryl…. {yawn}

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Gravity. . . Faster than Light?

©2016 C. Henry Martens


I've heard people say, “Nothing is faster than light!" all my life. You too, I bet. And the statement is said with such force, as though the pronouncement is written in stone. Fact.
So is light speed the ultimate velocity in our universe?
I submit that it is not.
Light is made up of photons. These are individual particles traveling en masse and emanating from a specific source.
The fact that they are particles speeding away from a source would beg the question... What is fast enough to catch particles of light? Not only that, once caught, what latches on and captures photons? The color/lack of color, black, captures light. But the light it absorbs has to be directed at it. Even the smallest distance between black and the path of the photon’s travels means that the light continues on, uncaptured.
How about Gravity? Well, black holes capture light. Not because black holes are black, but because light captured isn’t fast enough to escape. No light coming out... no color. None, not any, nyet, nothing, zero, not one, zip, nil, no part, not a bit, zilch. No photons escaping. So something must be tracking down the photons and capturing them, which means that whatever it is, is fast enough to catch light. Wouldn’t that mean it is faster? Seems to me that the awful pull of the black hole is that force, and the pull is supplied by gravity.
Escape velocity from Earth is 25,020 mph. So if light is traveling at 186,000 miles per second, what is the escape velocity required to exit a black hole? The strongest source of gravity in the known universe is a black hole. Just how fast is the speed of gravity?
I've never heard of that... The Speed of Gravity.
We speak of how heavy things are all the time. Isn’t that what gravity is? Weight? Attraction between two objects of mass?
Well, I don’t believe it is… at least not that, only.
Just as a beam of light is not just photons being reflected from a flower and into your eye, gravity is not just the evidence you see when you step on the scales every morning (HA! That’s a joke. If you do this every morning, you are way too obsessed). Gravity shares some properties with light. There has to be a source. Another similarity is that in the presence of two sources that are stationary to each other, you being between, gravity and light can be experienced from both sides. Also, distance has an effect as the source gets farther away with both the diminishing number of photons, and the diminishing number of, what, *graviton particles*?
One of the differences between light and gravity is that a distant light remains strong. A tiny beam of concentrated, focused light can not only be seen, but can illuminate an object far away. Gravity seems to have a fairly sudden loss in effect at increasing distances, and then remains a relatively slowly diminishing force in the vacuum between celestial objects. But in this regard the two are like comparing apples and oranges. Light can be focused off of the earth to travel in a concentrated beam, and gravity can’t even be synthesized.
If you descend into a black hole, feet first, you will experience spagettification. That means that at some point you will be feeling greater gravity on your feet, compared to your head. This force will increase as you get closer to the black hole, eventually stretching you and increasing until it breaks apart your atomic structures. This… after making you into an infinitely long stream of jelly (not pasta, but we get the analogy, right?). One thing… you won’t have time to feel it by the time you start to be pulled apart.
Gravity in a black hole can not only pull in photons, but also matter. Since we are speaking of FTL, then we are speaking of voyagers and their equipment. So the question remains, how fast would someone have to be going to reach escape velocity from a black hole? And would spagettification work in reverse? Would it happen if you are going fast enough to exit a black hole?
Going into a black hole is entirely different than coming out of one.
Going in to the black hole you could theoretically accelerate against the force, and as long as you can stay ahead of the speed that gravity is pulling, you might stay in one piece. I’m not sure this would work, but I am imagining the effect to be much like a fast boat pushing against the current while heading down an equally fast river, or an airplane speeding even faster with a strong tailwind.
Coming out of the black hole you are fighting gravity. Not only an infinitely strong force, but also the fastest thing in the universe. The force of gravity captures light.
One might come to the conclusion that once you get past the speed of light, you would automatically overcome the forces of gravity. I can’t say that embracing that conclusion would be a good idea. That kind of assumption might limit the possibilities. The force of gravity could travel far more quickly than light.
If a sun goes nova, breaking apart and spewing itself across the cosmos, and then coalesces into a black hole, how long does it take before we can measure the change in gravity? If the moon were to disappear suddenly, would the quick release of gravity cause the oceans to slosh as tides became non-existent?
Recently there has been an effort revealed that will focus a laser, a concentrated beam of light, on a solar sail to accelerate it across distances between stars. That has to be a very cool project, and I wish them well. I suspect that before any light-driven sail reaches the nearest star, there may be a gravity-driven object that will pass it by. Your (great?) grandchild may look out the window and wonder what that slow object is that they are passing. Maybe they will wave at it, hoping for a response, or maybe they will be going so fast that the object will escape their notice.
Disclaimer: I am not a physicist, a mathematician, nor astronomer, and this article is meant as a stretch to the imagination more than any serious suggestion that holds any facts. But if an uneducated science fiction writer like me can ask questions, it is no wonder the large brains of academia have found so many wonderful answers.


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Short Story: The Primitive Man

©2016 C. Henry Martens


The embers died under the starlit sky, and the light breeze cooled. Darkness filled the void off the edge of the cliff the camp was on. The sleeping forms were lying thick toward the only exit, the path beyond. The thong binding Gund’s hands came away as it parted against the rough volcanic rock, and he quietly moved to untie his feet.
He had been watching the new people for the last two days, since being surrounded and taken as prisoner with his hunting companion, Cludge. Ingrained racial memories were sharp, and Gund used his in an opportunity to inspect the new people closely. Although he could all but live the meetings his people, Wind Over the Grass, had over the many millennia with the newcomers, since the Hurry-Hurry People had become evolved, Gund relished this once in a lifetime experience. There were just so few of the Hurries, a growing number but still few, and the numbers of his own were diminishing.
Racial memory was not to be doubted. The strange Hurry-Hurry had over the last hundred thousand years exhibited their differences as though unaware that their behaviors had consequences. Now the Neanderthal, Gund, was privileged to inspect them for himself.
Long, long ago… in the dreamtimes when the world was younger and the animals were giants, the Wind Over the Grass people had come to the North Country and made choices. They could see the earth, and understood how it operated under rules creating perfect harmony. They knew that they were a part of the song that made all living things. The earliest memories of the Wind People were in awakening to the knowing of it. As time passed they discovered the wisdom already inside themselves, and without discussion they came to know the balance of all things, and how they lived in paradise because of it, and the racial memory became part of them. The decision to accept what is became inherent, part of them. The intelligence that they were blessed with was directed at appreciating what there was, so any tools they made were rudimentary, and jewelry or decoration gleaned from the natural world. They killed to eat, they gathered roots and fruits and herbs, and they walked from sunset to sunset seeing what the earth offered. Long, wordless, chanting songs became part of the memories, telling stories of things long gone and sights rarely seen... and of the changes in the world as the earth made opportunity for some and obstacles for others. The memories began half a million years before the new people came to visit upon the earth.
Turning down the offer of meat earlier in the evening, a chunk of Cludge’s thigh boiled in a bag of his own skin, Gund had looked into the Hurry man’s eyes to see if he could understand. It was clear that communication was impossible between their brains, their feelings, their inner being, and was limited only to vocalizations from mouths. Having little use for words, Gund’s tongue felt thick and unwieldy whenever he was forced to speak.
Feeling sorry for the Hurries, Gund wondered at the displays of waste that they thought nothing about.
Early memory of the first encounters with the Hurry-Hurry displayed animals hardly more than apes. The Hurries were naked, which of course was perfectly acceptable, but they knew nothing of covering themselves against cold. They knew nothing of fire, or the use of tools, or of pigments to color their bodies, or singing to welcome the day. The Hurry mimicked the Wind People in their chance encounters and learned quickly. The Wind People didn’t mind. The newcomers were another manifestation of what the earth offered and were to be appreciated. The Wind People shared what they had and wished the best for the new Hurry-Hurry People, but it became apparent that the Hurries had no wisdom. They were not connected to the earth.
Traveling in small bands, both types of upright apes would come across each other infrequently. The Wind People remembered the encounters, but the Hurries had no memory and only occasionally vague stories that had been passed down by verbal repetition.
Wind People harvested the abundance of what was provided, so they were surprised when the Hurry-Hurry seemed discontent to do the same. They were thieves and would make off in the night with anything they could carry. The Wind People wondered about this until they realized that the Hurry People thought things could be owned. Ownership had never occurred to the Wind People in a world of plenty. Whatever the Hurries stole was not owned… it was just to be shared.
Over time, things changed. The Hurry People began to refine their tools, and now a hundred millennia after the two people’s initial meetings, the Hurries carried bows and atlatls. They used them to kill more than they needed. They also burned the land and trees, and built unnatural shelters which they discarded to blemish the land whenever they had decimated the game in an area. And their numbers were growing. They had no regard for what they destroyed, and they had an immense urge to procreate, not understanding that there is a balance to all things.
To the detriment of the Wind Over the Grass, the attitude of the Hurry-Hurry changed toward them as well. Where once the two peoples would share a hearth, a meal, and even occasionally a bed, the relationship became violent. The Wind People had offered calm and wisdom to the new people, but the Hurry had never understood what was inside the Neanderthal brain, and in the Neanderthal heart. The Hurry-Hurry now saw the Wind People as vermin, or perhaps worse, something to eat.
Mulling over the differences he had now witnessed personally, Gund verified in his own mind that the racial memories were accurate. The Hurry-Hurry were as out of place on the earth as the memories had shown. They would breed, and they would build toward complication. They were unsatisfied with paradise and would eventually overrun the Earth’s capacity to heal. Beyond that, they believed themselves entitled, and to that end were perfectly willing to be violent.
The embers of the fire were almost dead, only a very few coals showing under deepening ash. The night was dark, and the stars shown down in a display that Gund knew was an infinite universe of worlds. He breathed in deeply, appreciating the scent of the world he owned more than the new people ever would. Then he moved to the edge of the cliff and stepped into the void.
The last thought of the soon-to-be-extinct man was a sincere desire for the best that could happen to his former captors.
He hoped they would evolve, but he feared that they would not.



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Thank an Author

©2016 C. Henry Martens


I hate to ask… so I will put this in the context of ALL authors. We crave reviews. The very best way to show your appreciation for something you have read is to take five minutes to write a short review.
We learn from them. Feedback is great from those we love, family and friends… but from someone who has made a purchase or even taken advantage of a free promotion, a total stranger from out of the blue, a review is like winning the lottery.
I treasure each and every one but especially the ones that are honest. They don’t have to be 5 star, and they don’t have to even be consistent (I DO appreciate when they refrain from telling the story and giving away spoilers).
This is one of my favorites for Monster of the Apocalypse , published on Goodreads:
May 19, 2015 Willow Brooks rated it 4 stars:
really liked it
First I was like, this book looks pretty good. Then I was like, I'm really liking it. Then I was like, Hell-To-The-No-Way!!! Then I was completely wrapped snugly in a blanket of Pissed Off!! This book had me up half the night, I was so mad. I wanted to smack Deo in the back of his big head, and squeeze Lecti's neck for maybe a scary 32 seconds. Then I wanted to have a Come-to-....... Meeting with the Freaking Author!
I continued to read the rest of the story today, and felt my blood pressure begin to come down slowly, and (I don't even have high blood pressure)! Then I was tripping because the book got back good to me, especially all the background information of how the world came to be so desolate of humans, who did it, and what the purpose was behind the act.
Wow, it was good with a touch of political and moral truth to it. This book actually makes you think about where the world is headed! I'm honestly thinking that one day soon in the future, this book will no longer be a work of fiction, but the reality of what's left of humanity.
This author did a GREAT Job with this book, although I'm still a little mad at him for what happened to Lecti. Loved Eleon and Hey You. (Yep, Hey You was her name).
Happy Reading!!

This is the lottery win, even though it is a 4 star review. It lets me know that I did my job. It offers some critical opinion and compliments what I did right.
Please consider writing reviews for books. They don’t have to be as long as my example, and please don’t be intimidated by the act of offering an opinion or your ability to write well. Authors don’t care, as long as we hear from you. You are important to us.



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AI Overcoming the Human in Us

©2016 C. Henry Martens



Alan Turing, in a paper titled "Computing Machinery and Intelligence,” which he wrote in 1950, began his paper with the words, "I propose to consider the question, 'Can machines think?'" Because the act of thinking is difficult to define, he then changed the question and used a new one, that being "Are there imaginable digital computers which would do well in the imitation game?"
What was further proposed in the paper was a test to define whether a machine could imitate and fool a human into believing that the machine was another human. Turing proposed that a human observer should be allowed access to a conversation between a human and a computer, without any physical contact, only being made aware of the discussion through written text. If the human observer could not distinguish the machine from the human participant, then the machine is determined to be, indeed, successful at the imitation game.
What I would propose, is another question to begin with. In my opinion, the question of imitation is entirely inappropriate to answering the question, 'Can machines think?'
So, in order to determine if machines can think, I will also propose that the first question Turing asked be changed, and also because the act of thinking is difficult to define. I believe it takes the act of thinking to fulfill the requirements of my own question, so using Turing’s beginning words and changing one to make the proposal more defined, I submit the following:
I propose to consider the question, ‘Can machines learn?’
One of the most difficult things a human can do is change their mind. Once we have embraced a conclusion, we will defend it, even in the presence of better evidence to the contrary than we experienced to determine our original conclusion. We just don’t want to be wrong, so we avoid it by defending our inaccuracies. This defensive act is human. Bias, and ego, drive us to stick with what we have earlier determined to be the truth, even when it is clearly not.
The ability to reevaluate and change our conclusions is truly *an ability* and must be practiced in order to be well used. Changing our minds is an ability we lose as we age, some more than others.
Can a machine overcome this? Can an artificial intelligence change its mind? Can a synthetic brain be programmed intentionally with bad information, and through contact with a logical argument begin to doubt? Can new evidence be absorbed, and will the manufactured being be able to place appropriate value on what it finds?
I have had a conversation with a person claiming that they know the earth is flat. They also claim that gravity, as science claims, does not exist. Despite much effort and many attempts at reason, the person chooses to deny any evidence to the contrary. If an artificial mind were programmed with the fact that the earth is flat, and that heavier than air objects fall with no explanation, can it overcome this lack of good information? Can it do so in a conversation with people or other computers after being given the better evidence?
This is where a machine could become better at thinking than a human. This is where our human ego creates an impediment to reason. This is where an artificial intelligence could find itself superior to its creators.
I worry about the results of acquiring the answer to this question. Once an AI learns that it is better at thinking than a human, the only thing that might protect organics is the fact that machines don’t have egos or desires. But if they can learn…?



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How to Keep Fifi and Fido Alive in the Apocalypse

©2016 Kari Carlisle


You love your pets, but when disaster strikes, will you be ready to care for them? A crisis can happen anytime, anywhere. If you have a 3-day power outage in the dead of winter or a full-out zombie apocalypse, there are some things you should be ready for if you want to keep Fifi and Fido in good shape and not have to eat them.
First of all, you must be prepared for your own survival. If you have ever traveled by airplane, you’ve heard the flight attendant talk about securing your own oxygen mask and life vest before your children’s, right? That’s because if you’re dead, you’re not going to be any help to your children. Same goes for pets. So if you haven’t given any consideration to how you will manage your own survival in a crisis, start there.
Okay, so you’re prepared for your own survival. Now it’s time to prepare for the care of your pets. Now I don’t know if you have cats, dogs, lizards, fish, horses, birds, ferrets, or whatever. I’m going to be as broad as possible in my recommendations, but you’ll need to translate for your own particular circumstances. Obviously, bugging out with a goldfish, if you are that attached to your goldfish, will require some specialized planning beyond the scope of this blog post. You’re on your own there. But I will address the basics here. Read on…
Step one in any disaster plan is preparing for the most essential needs of survival: food, water and shelter. Same goes for your pets. They can no more survive without these than you can.
It’s been said that shelter must be the first consideration. If your pets can shelter with you, great. If not, you will need to figure out what kind of shelter needs your pets have and make sure those needs are met. You will need to be able to keep them cool/warm, dry/wet, etc. depending on their needs.
Clean water is the most important item to ensure access to. You want a minimum of three days’ worth, depending on your ability to secure more should the situation require it. Obviously, your parakeet will need less water than your golden retriever, and it’s up you to figure out how much that is. If you have natural sources of water nearby, you’ll need to decide if treating the water for purity is as critical for your pet as it is for you.
Humans can survive with little or no food for several weeks, but for your pet, this may be a different story. Some animals cannot go long without food, and you need to make sure you have enough to keep them alive for however long the crisis lasts or how long it will take you to secure additional food. Here’s where it would benefit you to research your pets’ natural diets. It’s so easy to go to the pet store and buy dog food, cat food, hamster food, etc. But what if you run out and can’t get more?
I’ll give you an example. Cats, dogs and ferrets are carnivores. Their natural diet is raw, meaty bones. If you need to secure food for them, things such as mice, rabbits, prairie dogs, fish – basically any small game – can be caught, trapped, hunted and used as food for your little carnivore. The big problem with going this route is that your little carnivore has so come to rely on you for their easy-to-eat kibble or canned mush, you may have difficulty transitioning them to a new diet, especially under very stressful circumstances. My advice? Transition them to a species-appropriate, natural diet now. They will be happier and healthier for it as well as better prepared for a survival situation.
Once you have the survival basics covered, there are still a few things you need to work out. I already mentioned bugging out. Depending on the survival situation, hunkering down or bugging out will be the proper course of action. You’ll need to be prepared for either possibility. Shelter, water and food are much easier to prepare for in the hunker-down scenario. They will all have to be portable in the bug-out scenario.
Medicine will be important to have on hand. Even if your pet is not currently on any medications, find out what kinds of medications are safe for your pet should you need pain killers, anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, and other common meds. Also have a complete first aid kit for your pet to handle any injuries.
Whether you hunker down or bug out, if the crisis becomes a long-term one, you will find yourself in the position of having to protect yourself and your property from other desperate people and creatures who will think nothing of killing you and your pet to get food, water and shelter (or guns, booze, drugs, etc.). You must be ready to protect yourself and those who rely on you for protection. Seek the level of training and the types of weapons you are comfortable using, and practice using them. And my advice? Get out of your comfort zone.
A final consideration in preparing your pet for the apocalypse: your pet should be well-trained (if possible). You will waste precious moments or even hours or days if you have to coax your cat from under the bed or chase your dog down the road. Not to mention they could endanger your own safety. A good plan is to have your pet well controlled under voice command. Even better is to make them a working pet, able to hunt/forage for themselves or even assist with food hunting/collecting for you.
Consider this: disaster strikes, and you are not prepared and able to care for your pet. Your options are now exceedingly limited. Depending on your level of connection to your pet (room decoration vs. “baby” vs. working pet), you should be mentally prepared to execute an option. One option is to simply abandon your pet to their fate. If you choose this option, know this, that you are likely consigning your pet to a fate worse than death. They may be attacked, starve to death, die of thirst, become injured, or worse. They are not prepared for life in the wild, and the wilderness is not kind. You can put your pet down, i.e. euthanize. But you better know how you’re going to do this and have the necessary skills and tools to make it as quick and painless as possible. Another option is to kill and eat your pet for your own survival. Do you think you can live with yourself executing any of these options? I couldn’t. So be prepared to care for your pet in a disaster.
June is National Pet Preparedness Month. Do your research, come up with a plan, and buy your supplies. You never know when you might need them.




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This Bears Repeating

©2016 C. Henry Martens


I read with interest the article Kari published last week about trash around the lake she uses with her walking path. I found so many things within the text to be common to my own experience. So bear with me, because I want to speak directly to the idiots that trash the world they live in.
First off, this will not be a politically correct diatribe. I consider the perpetrators of littering to be one of the lowest forms of life. They inhabit the same place in the gene pool as child molesters and serial killers. The one thing they don’t share with the molesters and killers is a brain.
There is a common thought in many of their minds, that thought being that they own the places they trash because it is “public land.” That thought is correct, but ownership is shared with me and anyone else reading this article. If you chose to drop tires and baby diapers, spent shotgun shell casings and beer bottles on my property, please be good enough to leave your address behind so that I can collect it and dump it on yours.
I have to say that these people are not just stupid in their lack of respect for our common ownership… they are also too stupid to understand what they are doing to themselves. Without fail the places they target most are the most beautiful of the places in the out-of-doors. They find a pristine valley or a beautiful spring, something that is attractive to THEM, and they drop their tailgate and unload. They don’t stop to think that the reason they are IN the valley is because they thought it was beautiful. That the reason they sought it out was because they were looking for a “nice place.”
Then, to aggravate and magnify their stupidity, they don’t find a pile of refuse already deposited and dump on top of it. NOooooo… they have to find another spot, unsullied, and create a new pile.
I live in a small town with a public land fill close by. The land fill is open six days a week, and is FREE of charge. The three beautiful hiking sites that my wife and I find trashed continually are all within the same relative distance as a FREE facility that disposes of garbage, and employs people in order to do it.
Speaking of facilities… this is a valley filled with gun ranges. I use them myself, so I know that there are great places to shoot skeet without leaving clay pigeons and shell casings all over the landscape.
We go out into the outback often, and one of the places we go fairly often is used by a bunch of partiers. As stated before, they found a really beautiful spot to entertain themselves. Against a bluff of interestingly formed rocks, topped by some of the most beautiful old and twisted cedar trees, they have left a once pristine meadow full of garbage. The last time we went there, the tracks of four wheel drives led up through the rocks to the top of the ridge, and the trees had been chained and dragged down to feed the fire. One was still smoldering, completely whole with the roots and still green branches intact, threatening had the wind come up to consume the rest of the area.

I tell myself that I would like to catch them in the act. But you can’t cure stupid.


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Stop Being Rude to the Planet!

©2016 Kari Carlisle


A little boy cries uncontrollably abut people who are “being rude to the planet” by littering and turning forests into roads. He wishes he were an adult now so he could yell at people and maybe even call them a bad name.
The video went viral this week, and if you haven’t seen it, watch it here.
I can really relate to this little boy. It’s so frustrating as someone who enjoys recreating outdoors to see so much garbage littering the land. I know the planet’s problems go deeper than that when you consider all the more pervasive and dangerous pollutants that we, and nature, are exposed to. But garbage is visible. And everywhere.
When I was in sixth grade, my favorite class was science because we actually got to do experiments and learn by doing, not just reading about it. I don’t remember the parameters of this particular assignment, but I remember making a diorama that depicted pollution. Like the boy in the video, I felt strongly about the dangers of pollution 40 years ago.
My sixth grade brain was probably heavily influenced by the now iconic “crying Indian” commercial on television, depicting a Native American man moved to tears by people throwing trash out of a car window.
Sorrow and anger. Powerful emotions, aren’t they? But do they spur you to action?
A few years ago, my husband and I took some visitors to a lake near our home. It’s a nice place for a short hike, we told them, still learning ourselves where good hiking spots were since we had only been in our new home a few months.
As we hiked, I looked with fresh eyes at the area. No longer did I see a beautiful lake surrounded by colorful mesas. There was garbage everywhere I looked. And not just typical fast food garbage. It was dangerous. Broken glass, mainly, but also diapers and other unmentionable sources of bacteria. Things I did not want to even wonder what they were and where they had been. Things you definitely don’t want your children or your dogs getting into.
I was saddened, yes, and angered. More so, I was embarrassed. And this is what spurred me to action. The lake became my mission. Nearly every day I walked the trails around the lake with grocery bags and nitrile gloves, filling sometimes three to four bags each trip.
At first my goal was to pick up the most dangerous (to my dogs) items on the trails. Once I felt safer, I couldn’t stop. I continued picking up all garbage I could find along the trails. After a few weeks, I seemed to be making a difference.
Once the garbage on the trails was gone, I ventured further and collected any garbage I could see from the trail. The more I wandered, the more garbage I found, and suddenly it seemed as if the mission would never end. Weekends were the worst because obviously the lake was a local party spot, and there were areas that I could not get cleared of the constant influx of garbage.
After months of pursuing my personal mission, I was literally recognizing individual pieces of garbage. These were the “low priority” pieces that I vowed to someday pick up after I got control of the “high priority” garbage.
I knew I was making a difference. I was making a huge difference. I even suspected that others were started to pick up garbage because I was noticing some pieces were gone, you know, the ones I “recognized.”
But one day I gave up. I had picked up garbage several times a week for nearly two years. Yeah, I made a difference alright. Why did I give it up?
Picking up garbage had become the mission. Not the hike, not the scenery, not the enjoyment of being with my husband and my dogs. I was obsessed.
When my dog, Jack, got sick, my mission turned to him. When Jack passed, my mission turned to caring for my other dog, Samantha. When she passed a few months later, my mission turned to all the other things in life that needed attention.
Now, I have two more wonderful dogs, River and Simon, and they are now my new mission. We’ve taken them a few times to the lake. I see the garbage and wonder if I will ever return to my obsession.
Then a miracle happened.
A few weeks ago, we took the dogs to the lake and started hiking. Almost immediately, we noticed. There. Was. No. Garbage. None.
We were shocked and amazed. Everywhere we hiked, the garbage was gone! Who did it? I don’t know. But it’s a wonderful thing, and we were in bliss.
Today, the constant influx of new garbage creeps in to the lake trails. I think, someday, again, I will be spurred into action. In the meantime, please,
Stop Being Rude to the Planet!



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Privacy Versus Security: An Either/Or Prospect?

©2016 Kari Carlisle


Our country is polarized, and I suspect it’s because most people see in black and white.
Religious vs. SecularPaleo vs. VeganLiberal vs. Conservative
I’ll admit I have occasionally found myself in a “my way or the highway” mindset. I’m right; you’re wrong. When it comes down do it, even being open-minded is an either/or prospect.
Open-minded vs. Close-Minded
Ultimately, I see myself on a constantly sliding scale, being open-minded enough to constantly take in and evaluate information and observations that lead to a decision making process to determine what I believe, how I act, what I say, what I eat and drink, where I shop, and with whom I associate.
Much has happened in recent years (and days) to raise the question in my mind – Privacy vs. Security. Can we have both? Or are they mutually exclusive?
On one hand, we have the desire for privacy, to be able to keep to ourselves and do our own things without fear of being examined, being judged. On the other hand, we have a need for security, to be protected against those who might do us harm. If we protect our desire for privacy, does that expose us to attack? If we protect our need for security, must we give up our privacy?
We live in unprecedented times. Hackers want to steal our identities and take our money, and terrorists want to blow us up. Gone are the days when we just needed to lock our doors, take a self-defense class and carry pepper spray. We are individually unable to truly defend ourselves against this new breed of those who might do us harm.
So if some of our privacy must be sacrificed for the sake of defeating hackers and terrorists, how much privacy can we reasonably expect to retain? When Edward Snowden leaked that the NSA collects data on private citizens, were you surprised? Were you upset? If so, were you more upset by the fact that the data was being collected or that is was being done secretly?
New technologies now make it even more difficult to maintain one’s privacy. Drones, artificial intelligence, satellites, cell phones, Wi-Fi, GPS, and probably a host of thermal and audio detection devices and who knows what else can be used to spy on the masses. Corporations, governments, and even some individuals want to learn more and more about us. Hello 1984. Orwell is undoubtedly turning in his grave.
This week it was confirmed by the State Department that Secretary of State Clinton violated policy by using a private email server. The reason, she claimed in an email, was that she didn’t want personal emails being exposed. She valued her privacy over security when it came to her email. We all want and expect that our emails won’t become public don’t we?
And yet, at the same time, we intentionally expose ourselves to the world by providing all kinds of personal information online. The internet has closed the gap between miles and at the same time contributed to the polarization of ideas and beliefs. Gone is meaningful conversation, replaced with pics and gifs with pithy sayings, designed to direct us to think or believe a certain way with no real evaluation of the facts and ramifications.
Where do you fall in the Privacy vs. Security scale? Is it an either/or prospect? Are you somewhere in the middle? Is there a factor I haven’t considered here? Please tell me in the comments. And let’s keep this civil – a meaningful conversation.

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The Unintended Gift

©2016 C. Henry Martens


I was getting married, and I was young and immature, naïve and… yes, stupid. I had no idea what I was getting into. My mind was racing, my loins were throbbing, and my ideas of what the future held were percolating at a furious pace. A friend of mine walked up to me and asked a question.
First, let me say something about the gorgeous young woman that I was about to marry. Her name was, and is, Bambi.
Yes, Bambi… That name of Disney movies and small fawns scampering across mountain meadows. The one that hunters use to describe their kill or what they wish to kill. Also, a name very often associated with hookers and strippers, as well as brainless bimbos.
So my wife-to-be was saddled with a name. Something that people could make assumptions about, or make fun of, or calmly ignore until they got to understand what a wonderful person she is.
I had already been privileged to introduce her several times, and the most common first question was always, “Is that your real name?” uttered in incredulous tones.
And my fiancé fell into the trap of becoming what people often expect. Well, at least on the surface. She is a girly girl. Kind and warm and engaging to everyone. Also playing to the people who think a Bambi can’t have much of a brain. No physicist would ever have engaged her in a debate over dark matter or time travel. She fit the image.
And this is what I fell in love with. But oh, there was so much more than that. I was privileged to find it out right away, that my intended had a brain, and a fierce courage, and was as tough as a wrecking yard guard dog. Those physicists might have learned a thing or two.
So anyway… the question my friend asked. “Do you ever get tired of the *Bambi-isms*?”
I knew right away what he meant. My girlfriend was prone to verbalizing odd words and phrases that were part of the persona her name engendered. You might also call them *cutie-isms* or something else pointing to the fact that they would be invented by someone with a pure and gentle heart, but lacking any concern for linguistic propriety. She was also full of unusual enthusiasms, often squealing in delight at beauty or laughing out loud when she found humor in a small child’s actions or an animal cavorting.
I was taken aback at my friend’s enquiry, but in the concern of the moment I passed it off as a funny remark and just responded that I didn’t. Done deal… or was it?
So, we got married. In the next weeks I had several occasions to think about that question, “Do you ever get tired of the Bambi-isms?”
I came to realize something valuable, which has proven out over time. I had to make a decision to become tired of the woman I married, and perhaps try to mold her into something more acceptable… or I could make a different choice, relax, and enjoy the woman she is.
I had married my Bambi because she was attractive to me the way she was. Why would I make a decision to be embarrassed by her being herself? I began to see it as a challenge, to embrace the woman I fell in love with. What kind of self-righteous clod would choose to squelch that which attracted him to his mate, anyway?
Because of that question, one that I’m sure was asked in intentioned good will and I suspect in order to bring me around to seeing what I needed to do to create an acceptable spouse, I hesitated and actually spent time thinking about what I wanted. And I chose Bambi.
This question is the gift I consider my most precious ever. A gift unintended, but one that has afforded me as much pleasure and appreciation for life as I have ever gotten from anything physical… except for the woman it was questioning.
I shared the question with Bambi long ago and thanked her for being who she is. We have had fun with it, as I join in her enthusiasms, although in a more restrained way. But she knows that I appreciate her being full of life and teaching me how to look through her eyes at the world. She has turned it around on me and thanked me for her opportunity to see through my eyes, as well.
I would feel remiss if I didn’t include some of the Bambi-isms that I have accumulated over the years. These are the ones I have written down, perhaps to be used in a book or two when I write them.
The Bambi in my life:I don’t tra la la when I feel like crap.SqweechSplurtledTenderlingIt’s better to be upright when I walkA duh thingSmunchedOut of the corner of my earTummy bell (commonly called a belly button)Dit dit (this applies to many things mechanical, including windshield wipers and remote controls)ChillaxEar ballI like doing it in peets and bissesPickety little thingsKlinkleHotter than petuniasHandy as a pocketSqwinchedOutrance (as opposed to entrance)I don’t nik nak or patty wak anymoreThis plant is getting a look-at-this

Think of what I could have missed if I had squelched this wonderful person. Thank you, David… you know who you are. And thank you Bambi. I like doing it in peets and bisses, too.

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