I heard this NPR story on a Vancouver couple, J.B. MacKinnon and Alisa Smith, who were stuck in a cabin in the Canadian backcountry in late summer and hatched a plan to live solely off the land around them. They would subsist entirely on locally grown food within a 100-mile radius. (Their website and blog is at http://www.100milediet.org)
"Local is the new organic." - J.B. MacKinnon
I thought it was a great story with a multitude of implications along with it - intersections with contemporary issues like environmentalism and globalization. The couple has set a wonderful example for all of us farmers' market devotees to emulate. Since the NPR story and their book tour this spring, they've started a fledgling movement of sorts. I think it's great. (Personal disclaimer: I'm no saint in the diet department - I don't eat entirely organic, nor am I a vegetarian - nonetheless, I aspire to improve, and am interested in the issues.)
My sister gets her "box" every week - a crate of organic produce from Pioneer Organics, a local Seattle outfit that does deliveries to your front door. They include a little newsletter with recipes and meal ideas, which she often utilizes. Sometimes I come over and help cook, and the meals are wonderful, the ingredients fantastic. You can really tell.
MacKinnon and Smith did acknowledge that some areas/regions are more bountiful than others. The Puget Sound and western Washington in general is exceedingly rich, both agriculturally and in wild bounty such as fish, and salmon as is well-known. I imagine if you lived in, say, Las Vegas or some deserty area, things would be different. And in urban areas pollution would be an issue. Therein lies one lesson for us: if many people were on a 100-mile diet, we might pay more attention to the kinds of pollution we put into our surroundings!
Again, I was especially intrigued by the 100 mile-diet's implications for our modern world. In the age of globalization, when an apple or banana likely will have travelled farther to our mouths than we have our selves ever physically travelled, there is something going on. Indeed, in their interview they mentioned what it means for community that 'local would be the new organic' - it would strengthen the local, community bonds. Much like a farmer's market en masse, applied wholesale to our Safeway-SUV, detached lifestyles.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Dogs
I.
Sometimes I wonder about Border Collies. I mean, is there any law (no not a law, obviously); any stricture against a border collie breeding with another dog, say a bulldog or a greyhound or something? I mean who is there to guard the purity of the Border Collie breed? Those hundreds and hundreds of years it took to perfect the breed. Who, the American Kennel Club, AKA? I read recently that there is an organization called the Mixed Breed Dog Clubs of America (MBDCA). Their website says it is "a national registry for mixed breeds, providing many of the same opportunities that the American Kennel Club (AKC) offers for purebreds.""Many of the same opportunities..." Of course mixed-breed dogs need equal opportunity too, right? Who's looking out for them against discrimination? Equal opportunity, maybe some affirmative action is what's needed on top of it?
It might be interesting to do some research and find out AKA's official opinion on, say the mixing of purebreds. Do they have a plank regarding this? On "mutts". Yes, and maybe MBDCA can enlighten us on whether the term "mutt" is derogatory? Would it be a faux-pas to use such a term in polite company?
Here's another one: has anyone sorted out the moral implications of mongrelizing (whoops, is that derogatory too?), say, a Golden Retriever with a pit-bull? I wonder if such a scenario would fall under the "moral" at all - are we talking human morality, and if not, is it presumptuous to entertain any notion of dog morality?
II.
Contemporary society places dogs in an increasingly fuzzy category in terms of their place in the "family". Their status is as quasi-human, or as a human child to many people. They are often spoiled or doted on like any middle-class, suburban child, ferried around on chores; or as with the smaller breeds, as meta-infants, cradled in the arms of stylish young women with Prada bags.
And dog parks are increasingly common in America, popping up near every new suburban development or shopping plaza. People take their dogs out to socialize and exercise, and maybe socialize and exercise a bit their human-selves. Of course, proper ediquette in these parks requires that one clean up after one's pet, too, and place it in the proper receptacle (God forbid you walk your dog around a park like a pasture of cowpies but worse).
Let us consider a hypothetical situation that might fall under this as yet, unrealized "dog morality" framework:You're a guy and your neighbor's wife happens to be at the dog park with her golden retriever, long, golden main flowing, slightly vapid smile and curious, innocent eyes. Such a beautiful dog, you muse to yourself. But alas, oh no! right before your eyes, your male pit-bull (let's hope he's neutered) proceeds to mount your neighbor's golden retriever. So you and your neighbor house-wife stand helplessly, stupified for a moment at the scene unfolding. You both come to your senses and hastily pull your pets away from each other - it turns out to be a slightly awkward maneuver since both are leash-less in the park. The implications/connotations are painfully embarrassing, and you hope that she won't mention it to her husband or that it gets back to your own wife.
Let us be sure that this has happened probably more than a few times; pet owners pitifully embarrassed for themselves as for their dogs. It pains one to imagine such a scene, no? So then, where does this fit into our as yet inchoate framework of dog morality...
-d.g.w. 5/16/07
source: http://members.tripod.com/mbdca/
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Capitol Hill, Seattle Y'all
Hmm. Ya. well lately I've been starting off my entries with just this kind of lackadaisical humdrum; like uh duhh stupid dilly dong hum diddly. Like I don't know what to write. What to write, like. What to write. Kind of like my life - don't know how or what to live; don't know what to write. Funny how that works?
Art imitates life. Or is it life imitates art? Both ways?
I still don't have a functioning computer - I'm having to get online at various locations in Seattle. The library, the f-cking college, my sister's house, etc. If I were plotting some hacker-strike or something, or communicating with a terrorist cell, it'd be pretty hard to track me. Or at least hard to collect the evidence. Perhaps it's a good thing also, because I might spend too much time dilly-dallying if I were online in my apartment. Who knows, I might get addicted to porn or something nefarious and unhealthy. Or online gambling. Or...some stupid site like this.
My apartment is so boring and lonely and dim and shadowy, I even have a hard time reading a book. The quietude is distracting. That's what it is - tangible quiet. Quietness writ large. Or, simply put, loneliness.
I have better success at the coffee shop. True Seattleite, eh? Vivace 'Roasteria' is my usual haunt. Also Bau Haus down on Pike Street, where I went earlier today. A pretty happening spot. It has a bunch of outside seats, which contributes to a casual sort of street cafe vibe. People walking by on the sidewalk, saying hi. Its near those quirky Pike Street club/bars and hip clothing stores, the hipness percolating or maybe just seeping down from that scene.
A more eclectic crowd, at Bau Haus. Vivace's a bit more conservative. I couldn't tell which was more gay - it probably depends on time of day and week - Bau Haus, perhaps.
Vivace espresso is definitely superior, however. Frankly, I don't know if there is anywhere comparable in the state, the northwest, the entire west coast possibly. I'm sure San Fran and L.A. have some bomb espresso joints, too though. Vivace is wonderful. I wrote about it in a prior entry. My favorite. They've got espresso down to a science. That's the sort of Seattle sophisticate spin they've got (the founder was a Boeing engineer). Like, they control for temperature and every little thing, and of course they roast their own beans. The founder guy builds his own machines, too; designs them. Plus, if you pay attention you will see that unlike most places; Starbucks being one, Vivace uses manual machines. So there is a constant wrist-action racket back and forth from the barista. Authenticity...ahhhh. Indeed.
Their roast is mild, I would say - compared to Starbucks, for example - very mild and subtle. But delicious. Even if you ask for a triple or a quad - sometimes they'll give you a quad shot above a triple for the hell of it - the cup is still mild and delicious, slightly nutty, and creamy. Not bitter. Love it. Good shit. Above that, they even pay attention to the milk. People tend not to consider it, but with a latte, you're drinking mostly milk anyway, so why not make sure its the best? They use hormone-free milk, which I believe definitely tastes better. I suspect they will switch to organic milk one of these days. Then again, many people drink soy lattes anyhow.
So that's the scoop. Capitol Hill in the hid-ouse fools! No doubt. I do like where I live, yes.
-d.g.w. 5/15/07
Art imitates life. Or is it life imitates art? Both ways?
I still don't have a functioning computer - I'm having to get online at various locations in Seattle. The library, the f-cking college, my sister's house, etc. If I were plotting some hacker-strike or something, or communicating with a terrorist cell, it'd be pretty hard to track me. Or at least hard to collect the evidence. Perhaps it's a good thing also, because I might spend too much time dilly-dallying if I were online in my apartment. Who knows, I might get addicted to porn or something nefarious and unhealthy. Or online gambling. Or...some stupid site like this.
My apartment is so boring and lonely and dim and shadowy, I even have a hard time reading a book. The quietude is distracting. That's what it is - tangible quiet. Quietness writ large. Or, simply put, loneliness.
I have better success at the coffee shop. True Seattleite, eh? Vivace 'Roasteria' is my usual haunt. Also Bau Haus down on Pike Street, where I went earlier today. A pretty happening spot. It has a bunch of outside seats, which contributes to a casual sort of street cafe vibe. People walking by on the sidewalk, saying hi. Its near those quirky Pike Street club/bars and hip clothing stores, the hipness percolating or maybe just seeping down from that scene.
A more eclectic crowd, at Bau Haus. Vivace's a bit more conservative. I couldn't tell which was more gay - it probably depends on time of day and week - Bau Haus, perhaps.
Vivace espresso is definitely superior, however. Frankly, I don't know if there is anywhere comparable in the state, the northwest, the entire west coast possibly. I'm sure San Fran and L.A. have some bomb espresso joints, too though. Vivace is wonderful. I wrote about it in a prior entry. My favorite. They've got espresso down to a science. That's the sort of Seattle sophisticate spin they've got (the founder was a Boeing engineer). Like, they control for temperature and every little thing, and of course they roast their own beans. The founder guy builds his own machines, too; designs them. Plus, if you pay attention you will see that unlike most places; Starbucks being one, Vivace uses manual machines. So there is a constant wrist-action racket back and forth from the barista. Authenticity...ahhhh. Indeed.
Their roast is mild, I would say - compared to Starbucks, for example - very mild and subtle. But delicious. Even if you ask for a triple or a quad - sometimes they'll give you a quad shot above a triple for the hell of it - the cup is still mild and delicious, slightly nutty, and creamy. Not bitter. Love it. Good shit. Above that, they even pay attention to the milk. People tend not to consider it, but with a latte, you're drinking mostly milk anyway, so why not make sure its the best? They use hormone-free milk, which I believe definitely tastes better. I suspect they will switch to organic milk one of these days. Then again, many people drink soy lattes anyhow.
So that's the scoop. Capitol Hill in the hid-ouse fools! No doubt. I do like where I live, yes.
-d.g.w. 5/15/07
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Slouching Toward...
As far as my last Opendiary entry, I think I was just horny. The Internet will do that to you; it would seem the sex stuff seeps in no matter what sometimes. I'll try not to let it.
As a matter of fact, this bothers me about our society. It truly is becoming sex-saturated. I live in Capitol Hill, near downtown Seattle, so maybe it's not representative of America as a whole, but nonetheless, you don't need to be especially perceptive to see that the culture is saturated with it. I'm not going to get in to the reasons; I don't know why, for one thing.
I could go in-depth and write a term-paper: "Slouching Toward Gomorrah" type of thing, but societal/cultural trends are more inchoate and hard to pin down. And insidious.
I'm not an expert and not a woman, but I dare say that at least in its original form, feminism is dead. Or it has warped beyond recognition.
Fact is, women want to be sexy. They want to look like a "girl" and still be a "woman". Here in Seattle, walking on the city sidewalks, they want to be noticed. In and of itself this is no big thing, no surprise. It's just the extent of it; the intensity of it, that has in my view been on the up-tick.
It is a hard thing to pin down, because (honestly) I have to ask myself, how much of this is just me being horny? My own insecurities? Probably some of that, yes. So, I don't know. Maybe I require independent verification or something. A government commission. A longitudinal, million-dollar academic study. Maybe I need to be Maureen Dowd to state the same thing in print in the New York Times to for this notion to be believable.
I have always fancied myself observant. I think it comes in part from being a bit on the fringes earlier in life, in adolescence especially; socially disengaged. So I like to think I have that magic perspective where others trod ignorantly by. So whether it is true or not I don't know.
A good test, especially for those historically inclined and who think they can divine earlier time-periods, is to imagine this scenario:
You are an average American from a fairly small, middle-American town in the 1950s. You follow the cultural trends and you don't always like what you see. But you're broad-minded when it comes to your kids, and you let them do/wear/say pretty much what they want. After all, your town is pretty mundane, so you reckon it can't much hurt.
Now, fast-forward in the mind's eye a half-century to the present-day. Have this same character (maybe he is your grandfather/grandmother) go through a day on the streets of an average U.S. city. Have him read some of the day's newspapers. Then have him come home, watch T.V., surf the Web.
Is this individual going to be shocked at what they see?
I think the only rational answer is yes, very much so. Opinions might fall along a spectrum, but the general response would be one of anxious stupefaction, if not outright horror.
I like to imagine the poor soul's questions: "What have we done?"
Or maybe, "Have I died and gone to Hell?"
-d.g.w. 5/4/07
As a matter of fact, this bothers me about our society. It truly is becoming sex-saturated. I live in Capitol Hill, near downtown Seattle, so maybe it's not representative of America as a whole, but nonetheless, you don't need to be especially perceptive to see that the culture is saturated with it. I'm not going to get in to the reasons; I don't know why, for one thing.
I could go in-depth and write a term-paper: "Slouching Toward Gomorrah" type of thing, but societal/cultural trends are more inchoate and hard to pin down. And insidious.
I'm not an expert and not a woman, but I dare say that at least in its original form, feminism is dead. Or it has warped beyond recognition.
Fact is, women want to be sexy. They want to look like a "girl" and still be a "woman". Here in Seattle, walking on the city sidewalks, they want to be noticed. In and of itself this is no big thing, no surprise. It's just the extent of it; the intensity of it, that has in my view been on the up-tick.
It is a hard thing to pin down, because (honestly) I have to ask myself, how much of this is just me being horny? My own insecurities? Probably some of that, yes. So, I don't know. Maybe I require independent verification or something. A government commission. A longitudinal, million-dollar academic study. Maybe I need to be Maureen Dowd to state the same thing in print in the New York Times to for this notion to be believable.
I have always fancied myself observant. I think it comes in part from being a bit on the fringes earlier in life, in adolescence especially; socially disengaged. So I like to think I have that magic perspective where others trod ignorantly by. So whether it is true or not I don't know.
A good test, especially for those historically inclined and who think they can divine earlier time-periods, is to imagine this scenario:
You are an average American from a fairly small, middle-American town in the 1950s. You follow the cultural trends and you don't always like what you see. But you're broad-minded when it comes to your kids, and you let them do/wear/say pretty much what they want. After all, your town is pretty mundane, so you reckon it can't much hurt.
Now, fast-forward in the mind's eye a half-century to the present-day. Have this same character (maybe he is your grandfather/grandmother) go through a day on the streets of an average U.S. city. Have him read some of the day's newspapers. Then have him come home, watch T.V., surf the Web.
Is this individual going to be shocked at what they see?
I think the only rational answer is yes, very much so. Opinions might fall along a spectrum, but the general response would be one of anxious stupefaction, if not outright horror.
I like to imagine the poor soul's questions: "What have we done?"
Or maybe, "Have I died and gone to Hell?"
-d.g.w. 5/4/07
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
my blog?
So what is the point of a blog anyway? For others to read it? For you to write it? I want some fame and recognition, like anyone else, but I want to write with some serenity - I want a personal online journal/webdiary.
I started blogging here on Opendiary.com, which is formatted kind of like a MySpace page for journal entries - not as an online press for your own articles/opinion pieces (as with a true blog).
Does it really matter? No. Think how much fluff is out there on the Web at any moment. Tons. Or rather, how many bytes of code...
That the Internet is indeed "virtual" is a convenient notion: the excess verbiage might as well not exist in reality because it lies in a "virtual dimension" anyway, right? All so much fluff (which is also why I titled a recent entry "Fluff").
So why take any of it seriously? Perhaps it comes down to only taking yourself seriously, in lieu of anyone or anything else. So why write for an audience? Fuck the audience.
*Declaration* Heretofore I'm writing for no one but myself! *Declaration unquoteth*
That's my manifesto. If someone wants to read, then I gain that satisfaction, and maybe I'll be tickled, but, after all, my "publication" is only semi-real in the first place...
It only exists as random code on some server farm in Northern Virginia or outside San Jose, or, who knows, maybe Bangalor or New Delhi?!
-d.g.w.
4/28/07
I started blogging here on Opendiary.com, which is formatted kind of like a MySpace page for journal entries - not as an online press for your own articles/opinion pieces (as with a true blog).
Does it really matter? No. Think how much fluff is out there on the Web at any moment. Tons. Or rather, how many bytes of code...
That the Internet is indeed "virtual" is a convenient notion: the excess verbiage might as well not exist in reality because it lies in a "virtual dimension" anyway, right? All so much fluff (which is also why I titled a recent entry "Fluff").
So why take any of it seriously? Perhaps it comes down to only taking yourself seriously, in lieu of anyone or anything else. So why write for an audience? Fuck the audience.
*Declaration* Heretofore I'm writing for no one but myself! *Declaration unquoteth*
That's my manifesto. If someone wants to read, then I gain that satisfaction, and maybe I'll be tickled, but, after all, my "publication" is only semi-real in the first place...
It only exists as random code on some server farm in Northern Virginia or outside San Jose, or, who knows, maybe Bangalor or New Delhi?!
-d.g.w.
4/28/07
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