Citizen Cyborg

I was unexpectedly wrangled by the last few days of classes. The socio-cultural class knocked the wind out of my sail and I'm in some sort of recovery period (a.k.a. funk). Anyway, I forgot to mention this nice, brief interview with Donna Haraway that appeared in The New Scientist. Although she's talking about her favorite new-ish subject, the companion species, I think it relates nicely to the fore mentioned conundrum that continues to wrench my gut.
Eh. Enjoy.

"It's a deep pleasure being one among many living and dying creatures, and to understand that walking away from human exceptionalism is as much a relief from carrying on a kind of impossible fantasy as it is a burden to take on."

School Daze

Last night The Partner was helping The Kid fill out an application for an after school activity. They were discussing the gradation system at The Kid's school because, in good Berkeley hippy fashion, the school has "integrated groups" in lieu of "grades" -- always a real confusion for children when someone asks "So what grade are you in this year?"

"So you're in the upper group.. what grade do you think that is?"
"Well, it would be the 4th grade in a normal school, but my school is not normal."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, I wouldn't call it a school really... it's more like a Peace Sanctuary."

Will Says

"The first song that I remember dealing with death in a pretty direct way was "Ebony Eyes". When I was four or five, I listened to the Everly Brothers over and over again, acting out all the songs with the little plastic figurines I got for my birthday, and that was the last song on the record. I could tell that it was a sad song, but I didn't have any idea how sad. It's still something that I value a lot; music that gets in there. If I'm wondering about death and scared about life, then to find some song that addresses it is like, 'Well, if you feel that way the best thing might be to either obliterate consciousness, or to destroy yourself completely....' That's not the kind of music that I like to listen to. But if someone deals with the end of conscious existence in such a way that they're not just trying to ruin your day with it, then it can be pretty great."

Lions & Bobcats & Lynx

Oh my!
We've been hiking the Tennessee Valley at night in the hope of catching sight of the elusive bobcat that we were lucky enough to spy last year. The crypto black leopard sightings got me thinking that, hey, not everyone knows the difference. Here are a few photos to differentiate. The photograph of the Canadian lynx is a flickr image by David Cartier.

The bobcat picture is actually from Tennessee Valley.











The mountain lions are from the November 7th Daily Interlake, the local newspaper in Kalispell, MT. Apparently there is a bit of a familiar stand-off between the mountain lions and the ranchers (hungry lions eat ponies, the occasional small dog, goats) and so the long arm of the law, aka the 30-30 Winchester, has been at work.

I Am Become Death

The number of nuclear warheads in the US, according to a 2002 report from the Natural Resources Defense Council, Nuclear Weapons Databook Project is 10,600 (7,982 deployed, 2,700 hedge/contingency stockpile). The amount of plutonium still in those weapons is 43 metric tons.

Watch The Day After Trinity and Kuroi Ame and then ask yourself why.

"I remember the line from the Hindu text, The Bhagavad Gita: Now, I am become death, the destroyer of worlds."
- Robert Oppenheimer, The Day After Trinity

Cryptozoology: Bay Area Black Panther

As of late hikers around these parts claim to be seeing a black mountain lion wandering around hills and trails. So reports Berkeley resident, L.S.:

"I was curious about EBMUD's protected watershed off Redwood Road in Castro Valley, so I obtained a permit and checked it out . . . I decided to navigate into the gully, walked maybe 30 or 40 feet to the east and suddenly found myself locked eyes with this big black cat. It was roughly 50 feet from me, through several barriers of logs and overgrowth. The first thought is that it looked like a panther, but the weird thing is that sort of animal should be in Africa, not the East Bay. It was so out of place."

What to make of that? This is why I love cryptozoology, because of the relationship to urban legends where the formulation thereof can so easily be tied to other things going on in the world that are freaking people out. Ever see the Legend of Boggy Creek? Check it out and keep in mind the locale and historical relationship to the civil rights movement.

The skinny from our friends at Cryptomundo is that the black bobcat tale is persistent, particularly in the south. They also provide us with the black lynx crypto quote of the day:
"If you see a big black critter in the woods, it’s probably a Labrador retriever - or maybe a wild hog."

*The photograph is of a black jaguarundi, found in Mexico, Central and South America.

Election Night Recap, Courtesy of The Kid

The Kid's take on election night, part of a weekly homework assignment:

On Election Day I went to school and then after school I went to a poll. Then I went home, got a football and played some football and then at dinner I was watching the election off the computer. And then we were watching the state of red and blue and the blue basically took over the country so I was like, “Obama really won?” in my head. And then my parents told me that it was starting and I was like, “What’s starting?” and they told me that it was the concession speech. And in the concession speech I saw McCain talking and saying that Obama would be a good President to us and then Obama came out on stage and gave a speech and at the beginning of that speech he said that they were bringing a puppy to the Whitehouse. That’s the thing I’ll probably always remember.

I saw a bunch of people crying and cheering. And me and my family were very happy. And then when I went to bed I heard fireworks. And then when I woke up and I was driving to school the next day I heard the front page of the New York Times (we have a subscription to the New York Times) was worth $140.00!

What does Obama need to work on?

1. The economy: It’s not making any money.
2. Manufacturing: We need more jobs.
3. Prop 8: There should be gay marriage.
4. Warfare: They need to stop the war in Iraq.
5. Racism: We have a new race of President but that might change things up a bit.

Who can help Obama?

1. Galen: Because he’s a smart kid.
2. Biden: Because he’s a politician.
3. Weird Al: Because he knows a lot of stuff.
4. Brian Jacques: Because he knows how to stop warfare.
5. Xiao Hong: Because he can get through about anything.

Walking the Cervix

So, have you heard of the posterior cervix that needed a walk...Alright, seriously.
Friday, Dr. M. had to do a pelvic exam on our L&D patient, 2 weeks post dates, to determine whether the cervidil was working to ripen her cervix. The problem? He couldn't find it.
So here we sit, mom with Dr. M's fingers inside, he, looking off in the distance, strangely, like he had been taken over by some alien mind control. After minute three, I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable and start burning holes in the side of his head with my gaze.
"So", says nurse J., also bedside, "feeling anything there Dr. M.?"
"Well, it's a 2... no a 3... maybe a 2," still hypnotized.
Nurse J. waits for maybe another 2 minutes, "So it's a 2/3??"
He withdraws. Talks nervously and red-faced about the amazing disappearing cervix.
The fact is, at this point, how accurate do we need to be?
And hasn't Dr. M. heard of walking the cervix, wherein when a cervix is remarkably far back (especially an issue for a first time mom) one can find the edge of cervix, placing one's finger inside and gently move it forward?
Seems better than mining for it.

Share and Share Alike

"Wouldn't it be neat if when we had a baby we got twins?" asks The Kid.
"Yep, that would be neat."
"Yeah, and when they grow up they could try out each others' boyfriends or girlfriends."

??

Chamois Pants

An expectant mom called L&D this week wanting to know whether or not to come in for admission:

"I think my water has broken."
"What makes you think so?" asks the admitting nurse.
"There was wetness between my legs."
"How much."
"I don't know how much."
"Was it more or less than a teaspoon?"
"What kind of teaspoon?"
"A standard teaspoon."
"Well, all teaspoons are different."
"Um....what?"
"All teaspoons are different!"
"...O---kay. Were your pants wet?"
"Well, I was wearing these special pants."
"Special pants?"
"They're a special material. They're made of a kind of wicking material."
"A wicking material? So are you saying they were or were not wet?"
"I'm saying I don't know because the material wicks away moisture."
Another nurse turns to me an says: "Chamois pants?"

Goodbye, Sweet Friend

Sprout Wings and Fly

"'They tell me you're master of the old time fiddle'. I said, 'Now, mister, they ain't nobody mastered the fiddle. Ther's notes in that fiddle ain't nobody found.' I said, 'Ther's music in that thing that'll be there when Gabriel toots his horn.'"



You can watch Sprout Wings and Fly along with a documentary featuring Tommy Jarrell's sister entitled Julie: Old Time Tales of the Blue Ridge.
Here's a preview.

Mufinn Mann

While I was on the telephone with my mom, I received this note from The Kid.

Tat-B-Gone

Today's assignment: tattoo removal clinic. The process is not as magical as it sounds: it's not painless and it doesn't exactly "remove" the tattoo. In fact, immediately after treatment, the outline of the tattoo actually becomes edematous and is thus more prominent and reddened. The surrounding skin becomes inflamed, apparently with the sensation of having been burned. Eventually, after several treatments, the tattoo fades - sometimes completely. Other times, there is a shadow, scar, hypo or hyper pigmentation. One guy who was having treatment on six (6!) tats revealed where another of his tattoos had been, and there was no sign. So, it works, depending on a person's skin integrity, the quality of the tattoo (do-it-yourself = yikes!) and the immune system. The way it works is that a laser sends short impulses of light into the epidermis; the light is absorbed and breaks the pigment from the ink in the tattoo into smaller particles that can be removed by the immune system. Varying wavelengths are used in order to deliver the best possible ink removal.

Basically, it's a great service. It serves a lot of former gang members and a lot of guys who took penknives and fountain pens to themselves in juvie. The docs take off a lot of neck and face tattoos. (Ouch!) I should mention that I was even allowed to be zapped for three seconds, just to have the true anthropological participant-observer moment. I went "cold" (no lidocaine) and the laser was, of course, set much lower than for the tattoo removal. Also, not having the ink in my skin prevented the pain that ensues from the ink's dissipation into the skin and the macrophagic action. When I was zapped by the laser myself, it was like being burned by spattered, hot cooking oil. The difference for me than for those having their tattoos removed? I had no relationship to the freckle being removed from my arm, while these kids have a whole lifetime of experience related to the tattoos that they wear. Tattoos, traditionally a symbol of belonging and the renunciation of the self to the group, are symbolic to the wearers in more ways than I could possibly understand. The choice to have the tattoos removed demonstrates a degree of humility that is above and beyond my comprehension. Having a tattoo removed is more about loss than about renewal. It took some serious strength for those kids to be there.

Unnatural Childbirth

On my way out of the hospital on Friday I stepped into the elevator with a woman, maybe twenty-five years old, she was holding a manila envelope to her chest and weeping. She turned to me and said “It feels like tugging…” I asked, “What does?” She replied “That tugging here” and touched her breasts. “They feel heavy like they do when I feed her…my baby.” I said, “Yeah, that’s totally normal.” She sobbed and said, “No, you don’t understand. CPS took her away. They told me she’d be here today and I just got out and came for her, but they took her away already.” They lied.

I told her, “It will work out for you, and for her, in the end.”

I guess I lied, too.

and I will align myself with nothing...

I had been struggling with my clinical specialty until my community health clinical instructor who was been a L&D nurse for 10 years said to me, "I don't see the predicament. Sometimes, you can't tell the difference between a birth and a death. I've been at plenty of births where I was like 'was that a death?' and plenty of deaths where I was like 'was that a birth?'"

Drawing by Karlynn Jayne Holland.

...and I will enjoin my heart with no-one's
cause I was untried
when I was applied the light of birth.
- "Patience" Royal Stable Music 1997

I Keep My Horse At Stable Will's

After missing Bonnie Billy in Big Sur last weekend, we got a free shot today at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival. We also ran up on him quite unexpectedly on our way out. Come to find out he's an artist in residence at the Headlands Center for the Arts. This means a chance to recompense for the lost concert. Anyway, thanks to Will for fulfilling expectations and being something quite other than a typical musician/ performer. Thanks for walking a different line.

Red, White & Blue

After a sad beginning of the week, there is some kind of magic in knowing it is snowing on Mars.

Swamp Girl

"She is a legend. She is a myth. She is Swamp Girl. Growing up on the Okefenokee, abandoned by her parents, Swamp Girl was raised by a black man she calls Pa. Trouble reins for Swamp Girl when another girl who happens to be a psycho prison escapee and her boyfriend force Swamp Girl to be their local Swamp guide. Things get nasty when Swamp Girl battles Convict Girl in an all out catfight." That, a little Ferlin Husky crooning, and more bad ass snakes than you can shake a stick at, makes for fine Sunday night respite.

We do indeed have the double feature including Swamp Country (1966), which we've saved for a rainy day. Sadly, we missed out on the extra added attraction, Swamp Virgin (1947). What gives?

Sweet Can

Sweet Can is performing this weekend in Fremont. $25 for adults, $15 for kiddos. Totally worth it, even on a student budget. Tickets here. Check it out.