We're just back from Costa Rica, where it struck me that the real crisis of saving rainforests -- and our planet -- is not just about ecology, biodiversity and climate change. It's about economics.
We simply don't have the language yet to describe the need to preserve the environment for economic reasons. Would you call it bio-economics? Green Economics? Semantics aside, this is what's at stake: The rainforests are being carved up for purely economic reasons. And we need to do the math to show to every country the global economic harm done by chopping them down.
You've seen the many warnings on why it's important to preserve these treasures of biodiversity.
* They are tremendous carbon sinks. Because of their abundant variety and depth of plant life, they act as huge sponges for carbon dioxide. When we slash and burn a rainforest, it releases greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. While the long-term effects of this damage can only be predicted by computer modelling, we do know the tangible harm is causes now.
* Because there is relatively little topsoil under a rainforest, it's easily eroded. Topsoil loss is a huge problem in every country, but in tropical climates it's especially critical because it is washed away so easily because of the incredible amount of rain pounding away at the ground every day.
* When you lose topsoil, you can forget about long-term agricultural practices. Infertile soil is depleted of nutrients fairly quickly. And to restore fertility, you need to add petrochemical-based fertilizers, which eventually leach into watersheds and destroy the chemical balances of river and ocean systems.
* Topsoil lost through extensive grazing can't be replaced unless you truck it in, which is incredibly expensive and almost never done. Nature naturally restores fertility through decomposition. But that doesn't happen unless the entire system of bacteria, fungi, plant and insect life is in place.
* Rainforests have some role in regulating climate. Barren areas can't absorb atmospheric moisture. so it has to go somewhere else. Does that mean monstrous floods on the Ganges, snowstorms in China or mudslides in California? No one knows for sure, but the amount of water in the atmosphere is a finite quantity. If it's not falling in tropics, the winds will push it somewhere else. We're all part of this huge system. We mess with the balance and everything is off kilter.
* Biodiversity is critical because every plant and animal has a role in making the system work. Hummingbirds help fertilize flowers. Millipedes help aid decomposition. Snakes keep the rodent population in check. Darwin was so right about each living thing having its own niche. All living things are team players and don't even know it, but we sure do. The rainforest, with its massive population of flora and fauna, is the New York, London and Shanghai of the living world system.
Costa Rica brought home these concepts because I could see living things in their environment. I saw a millipede doing its work. I watched a hummingbird sit on her eggs. I spied two rare Quetzals in the wild. You can't get this in a Disney theme park.
In addition to seeing and listening to this natural symphony, I could see how fragile it all is, a glass menagerie of flora and fauna. Costa Rica, which has nominally protected one quarter of its land in preserves, is only the size of West Virginia. Since it doesn't have the resources to buy all the land it needs to keep it out of the hands of developers, it's still quite vulnerable. Poaching is a huge problem. The most remote areas are inaccessible because the local road system is awful -- not that that is a bad thing. I couldn't use my cellphone or wireless internet in some of the most splendid areas on the tops of mountains and it didn't bother me a whit.
You can fly over the mid-section of Costa Rica in a half hour, in which time you will have traveled from the warm, blue waters of the Pacific to the steamy Caribbean Sea. It's literally the waist that connects North and South America, but what a slim, sensuous mid-section it is!
There are 12 climatic/life zones in Costa Rica, meaning that you can go from an alpine cloud forest where the humidity is constant, to a dry grassland in a matter of minutes. Monteverde, which is a mile high, is the most famous of the cloud forests and consists of a patchwork of reserves from the Arenal Volcano to Santa Elena, a bohemian enclave with a view of the Pacific.
Such splendor in Monteverde can not be adequately described in words. It's the poster child for biodiversity: 400 bird, 100 mammal, 120 amphibians/reptile and 3,000 plant species occupy this region where the moisture of the Caribbean creeps over the Tilaran range then condenses on the forest canopy when it hits the hotter air of the Pacific. When I was touring the Reserva Biologica Bosque Nuboso (www.cct.or.cr), I saw two rare, resplendent Queztals, a tarantula, howler monkeys, hummingbirds and dozens of migrating songbirds. You felt enveloped by life, even though I was wearing four layers and my hands felt cold.
I love this chorus of life, but not because I'm an eco-spectator. I relish the questions we need to ask and a search for the answers. We need a new philosophy and economic science that somehow values these living systems so that we have a universal measure like a dollar or a Euro. I know that these entities are priceless. We may be able to document their genomes or even reproduce them through genetic science, but how do we re-insert them into a living system and make them working parts of the eco-sphere once they're gone? What ecologists say about the rainforest is true: There are thousands, maybe tens of thousands of species yet to be discovered and catalogued and we have no clue how they fit into the grand network of life. I'm certainly on board with the idea of preserving them for their own sake, but we need to make a much better argument to governments, policymakers, ranchers, farmers and developers that these species have bio-economic values.
On the last day of our visit, my family and I witnessed a heroic sunset over the Pacific from our bungalow. Monkeys screeched in the trees outside our window. Iguanas waltzed through the resturant next door. Even in our man-made environment -- an anthroscape -- we could see the vulnerability of the coastline going north. Much of the vegetation was gone. Someone was burning several acres. Was it for a ranch? A new condo building? A luxury home? Suppose there was a tax imposed on anyone destroying habitat or topsoil that would be channeled into buying land for the sake of protecting it? Or maybe the tax would be doubled if the home or commercial site diminished biodiversity, watershed quality, plant life volume or impacted climate change.
Okay, if you're in the real estate business, a little black light goes on in your head: If it costs too much to build, then nobody will and Third World countries will remain poor, jobs won't be created and tourists won't come. That's not true. Costa Rica is a case in point. The tiny country once grew bananas. A blight knocked out that industry and United Fruit left. Then they tried ranching. When the price of beef plummets that no longer makes sense, even though once the land is carved up for cattle it can't be fully restored.
Then the enlightened folks in San Jose seized on the big idea: Why not preserve their greatest assets (note the economic term) and see if anyone shows up. The results have been spectacular. Eco-Tourism is their top business, bringing in more than 1.6 million visitors a year. Those tourists spend money, hire drivers, tour guides and other service professionals, then tell other First-World folks what a terrific place Costa Rica is.
So here we stand. The rainforest can be profitable. It is an asset. It can provide return on investment. I know this sounds coarse, but this is the language we need to use. It may make the difference between preserving our planet -- or watching it be devoured.
www.johnwasik.com
Friday, February 1, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Jazz and Economics: Marsalis, Greenspan and Bernanke
I've just come from a jazz concert given by Wynton Marsalis and the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra. Although it was primarily an event designed to get kids interested in America's most original art form, Marsalis and his group of crack musicians blew the roof off of Chicago's Orchestra Hall. Their Ellington, Davis, Gershwin and Monk was flawless. It restored my hope in America's true culture: improvisation.
From Jamestown to our current troubles with the stock, housing and credit markets, there was no script. Sure, we were always panning for gold somewhere, but the real precious substances were what we created along the way. We made it up as we went along. For the most part, except for the Civil War, the genocide against Native Americans and and few really stupid little overseas conflicts, it's been a worthy project. It's been jazz all the way.
What Marsalis was teaching wasn't exclusively about music nor was it about doing your own thing with an instrument. His main points were understanding the foundation of rhythm, building on it and making it into something new. Four beats to a bar, moving around the accents -- syncopation. Then one plays with the melody. Is it too fast or two slow? Is the drum too loud or the bass too soft? Are the solos too long? What happens if you throw in some really complicated Thelonius Monk-type harmonies? Equilibrium is the key. Too much of one thing can spoil the final product.
Marsalis and his crack musicians nailed everything. Maybe the kids didn't appreciate what they were hearing, but the adults did.
In our economy, the basic rhythm is liquidity. If I want to buy a house -- and I'm a good credit risk with steady income -- I should be able to get a mortgage. If somebody needs to sell something -- a car, a security, a mortgage -- they should be able to find a buyer. That's what keeps everything going in the harmonic world of money. Yet lately things haven't been meshing. There are more sellers than buyers in the home market. Buyers can't get the money they need to relieve the inventory of 4.5 million homes. The great energy of the world's largest economy is dammed up. If the pressure isn't relieved, there will be a panic where everyone is selling and almost no one is buying.
In jazz, the tension builds and is relieved through chords and solos and held together by the steady beat of a decent drummer and bassist. The American economic rhythm section is the Federal Reserve, adjusting interest rates and money supply to keep the tempo of the economy at a sustainable pace. Too much money means inflation; not enough, a recession.
Where are we now? The drummer has slowed down. He needs to pick it up a bit. The whole band needs to listen to one another and start playing together. They all need to agree on a common tempo and stay with it.
Alan Greenspan, as many know, was an aspiring swing musician before the pull of economics changed his life direction. While I certainly don't think he was the best Federal Reserve chairman in history -- his inattention to a rushing rhythm section triggered two bubbles -- he understood how to measure the tempo of the economy.
Now it's time for Ben Bernanke to start talking with Greenspan and the other musicians who understand economics and markets. He's the band leader now. It also wouldn't hurt if he went and saw Wynton Marsalis. He might learn a thing or two about playing in tune and following a beat.
From Jamestown to our current troubles with the stock, housing and credit markets, there was no script. Sure, we were always panning for gold somewhere, but the real precious substances were what we created along the way. We made it up as we went along. For the most part, except for the Civil War, the genocide against Native Americans and and few really stupid little overseas conflicts, it's been a worthy project. It's been jazz all the way.
What Marsalis was teaching wasn't exclusively about music nor was it about doing your own thing with an instrument. His main points were understanding the foundation of rhythm, building on it and making it into something new. Four beats to a bar, moving around the accents -- syncopation. Then one plays with the melody. Is it too fast or two slow? Is the drum too loud or the bass too soft? Are the solos too long? What happens if you throw in some really complicated Thelonius Monk-type harmonies? Equilibrium is the key. Too much of one thing can spoil the final product.
Marsalis and his crack musicians nailed everything. Maybe the kids didn't appreciate what they were hearing, but the adults did.
In our economy, the basic rhythm is liquidity. If I want to buy a house -- and I'm a good credit risk with steady income -- I should be able to get a mortgage. If somebody needs to sell something -- a car, a security, a mortgage -- they should be able to find a buyer. That's what keeps everything going in the harmonic world of money. Yet lately things haven't been meshing. There are more sellers than buyers in the home market. Buyers can't get the money they need to relieve the inventory of 4.5 million homes. The great energy of the world's largest economy is dammed up. If the pressure isn't relieved, there will be a panic where everyone is selling and almost no one is buying.
In jazz, the tension builds and is relieved through chords and solos and held together by the steady beat of a decent drummer and bassist. The American economic rhythm section is the Federal Reserve, adjusting interest rates and money supply to keep the tempo of the economy at a sustainable pace. Too much money means inflation; not enough, a recession.
Where are we now? The drummer has slowed down. He needs to pick it up a bit. The whole band needs to listen to one another and start playing together. They all need to agree on a common tempo and stay with it.
Alan Greenspan, as many know, was an aspiring swing musician before the pull of economics changed his life direction. While I certainly don't think he was the best Federal Reserve chairman in history -- his inattention to a rushing rhythm section triggered two bubbles -- he understood how to measure the tempo of the economy.
Now it's time for Ben Bernanke to start talking with Greenspan and the other musicians who understand economics and markets. He's the band leader now. It also wouldn't hurt if he went and saw Wynton Marsalis. He might learn a thing or two about playing in tune and following a beat.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I-pods, MP3s and the world of the natural sound
Christmas is long over, but there are still repercussions.
Was it worth buying that I-pod, MP3 player or We video game? Many in my family bought these "entertainment appliances" for their children, but we didn't.
My daughter Sarah had specifically asked for an I-pod and we flatly told her no. Yet we are not puritans, fundamentalists, luddites or holy rollers of any kind. We're the opposite end of that theo-political spectrum.
We not anti-media, although we have no broadcast, cable, satellite or TIVO in our home. Our TV is a 19-inch color set that I bought from Monky Wards 22 years ago. I have a pretty decent dolby-surround stereo system that's about a dozen years old, but I still have the bookshelf speakers I bought in college. I keep saying that I will update the system with a big-screen flat-panel LCD and some smaller speakers, altough when it comes to spending money on travel vs. more electronics, travel seems to win out. Our next trip is an eco-tour to Costa Rica next week.
We have satellite radio and are very pleased with its variety and lack of commercials on most stations. You can listen to one channel all day and never hear anything repeated. There is so much music out there -- and most of it is not on the format-oriented radio. I can listen to folk, classical, jazz, world and soul for hours. We're more media savvy than anyone, actually. We have home delivery of the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and local papers. On the web, I scan the Chicago Tribune, Reuters, The Washington Post, Newsweek and have feeds on major news subjects. We listen to NPR in the car when we are not listening to music of our choice.
Nevertheless, our decision has resonated with other families. At least two or three that we know of have turned off their TVs -- at least during the week,
We want to listen to the kind of music that enlightens and is not part of some commercially driven agenda. It's not that we're afraid to sample. We scan YouTube all the time for new artists. When my 7-year-old daughter Julia was in the library, she asked for Hannah Montana CDs, although she had to wait to get them. When she got them, all of her other music took precedence, and none of it was guided by us. After seeing Aretha Franklin sing on YouTube, she was smitten with her emotion and artistry. She also loves Sam & Dave, Alison Kraus and Union Station, Solas (and any Irish music) and the soundtrack from the musical "Wicked," which we saw in the theatre two years ago. Maybe not to my surprise, she lost interest in the contrived, overproduced sound of Disney's Hannah Montana and stuck with the queen of soul. We never said a word in judgement about the Disney sound. She made this decision on her own.
We have also endeavored to ensure that we all see great live music and theatre. We have seen some great Shakespeare productions in five or six different venues. Julia was able to sit through full-length productions of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at age five. Sarah has seen more theatre in her 11 years than I did when I was 25. We go to small shows of folk singers at the library, early-music ensembles at our community barn and countless recitals. Both girls play guitar and piano and Kathleen insists that they practice and play until they're 18. Then it's their choice if they want to continue. They will have something they can create on their own the rest of their lives. It's the discipline of hearing, playing and letting the music conquer the material meaness of American life.
So why not buy them those ultra-compact music devices? Couldn't they choose from millions of tunes? Wouldn't the universe of music open up to them?
Maybe it would. Or more likely, they would be able to tune out the natural world of sound, or as James Joyce puts it, something that is the "ineluctable modality of the audible." The world needs to be listened to in order to be heard.
Say I wanted to jog around our lake. What would I miss if I kept the earplugs in?
The sheering sound of wind breaking against the ice.
Geese taking to wing and sweeping over a wetland
Sirens of distress in the distance
the D7 chord of the trains
the pounding of my feet on the gravel
the windmill as it threshes the wind to make electrons
dogs barking
delivery trucks
the howling of coyotes
How much of this is noise and how much is discernible life activity? It's this diversity of sound that keeps us plugged into the world, something that's lost through the exclusive domination of your brain by a compact electronic device. I have nothing against them, but I don't want to sacrifice my total experience of the world for one song. There's a symphony out there every single moment. We only have to listen.
We stress the live experience, not the recorded.
Was it worth buying that I-pod, MP3 player or We video game? Many in my family bought these "entertainment appliances" for their children, but we didn't.
My daughter Sarah had specifically asked for an I-pod and we flatly told her no. Yet we are not puritans, fundamentalists, luddites or holy rollers of any kind. We're the opposite end of that theo-political spectrum.
We not anti-media, although we have no broadcast, cable, satellite or TIVO in our home. Our TV is a 19-inch color set that I bought from Monky Wards 22 years ago. I have a pretty decent dolby-surround stereo system that's about a dozen years old, but I still have the bookshelf speakers I bought in college. I keep saying that I will update the system with a big-screen flat-panel LCD and some smaller speakers, altough when it comes to spending money on travel vs. more electronics, travel seems to win out. Our next trip is an eco-tour to Costa Rica next week.
We have satellite radio and are very pleased with its variety and lack of commercials on most stations. You can listen to one channel all day and never hear anything repeated. There is so much music out there -- and most of it is not on the format-oriented radio. I can listen to folk, classical, jazz, world and soul for hours. We're more media savvy than anyone, actually. We have home delivery of the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and local papers. On the web, I scan the Chicago Tribune, Reuters, The Washington Post, Newsweek and have feeds on major news subjects. We listen to NPR in the car when we are not listening to music of our choice.
Nevertheless, our decision has resonated with other families. At least two or three that we know of have turned off their TVs -- at least during the week,
We want to listen to the kind of music that enlightens and is not part of some commercially driven agenda. It's not that we're afraid to sample. We scan YouTube all the time for new artists. When my 7-year-old daughter Julia was in the library, she asked for Hannah Montana CDs, although she had to wait to get them. When she got them, all of her other music took precedence, and none of it was guided by us. After seeing Aretha Franklin sing on YouTube, she was smitten with her emotion and artistry. She also loves Sam & Dave, Alison Kraus and Union Station, Solas (and any Irish music) and the soundtrack from the musical "Wicked," which we saw in the theatre two years ago. Maybe not to my surprise, she lost interest in the contrived, overproduced sound of Disney's Hannah Montana and stuck with the queen of soul. We never said a word in judgement about the Disney sound. She made this decision on her own.
We have also endeavored to ensure that we all see great live music and theatre. We have seen some great Shakespeare productions in five or six different venues. Julia was able to sit through full-length productions of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at age five. Sarah has seen more theatre in her 11 years than I did when I was 25. We go to small shows of folk singers at the library, early-music ensembles at our community barn and countless recitals. Both girls play guitar and piano and Kathleen insists that they practice and play until they're 18. Then it's their choice if they want to continue. They will have something they can create on their own the rest of their lives. It's the discipline of hearing, playing and letting the music conquer the material meaness of American life.
So why not buy them those ultra-compact music devices? Couldn't they choose from millions of tunes? Wouldn't the universe of music open up to them?
Maybe it would. Or more likely, they would be able to tune out the natural world of sound, or as James Joyce puts it, something that is the "ineluctable modality of the audible." The world needs to be listened to in order to be heard.
Say I wanted to jog around our lake. What would I miss if I kept the earplugs in?
The sheering sound of wind breaking against the ice.
Geese taking to wing and sweeping over a wetland
Sirens of distress in the distance
the D7 chord of the trains
the pounding of my feet on the gravel
the windmill as it threshes the wind to make electrons
dogs barking
delivery trucks
the howling of coyotes
How much of this is noise and how much is discernible life activity? It's this diversity of sound that keeps us plugged into the world, something that's lost through the exclusive domination of your brain by a compact electronic device. I have nothing against them, but I don't want to sacrifice my total experience of the world for one song. There's a symphony out there every single moment. We only have to listen.
We stress the live experience, not the recorded.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
The New Age of Light
It's official. The new age of light has begun. They are voting in Iowa now to determine who might be the illuminator in chief. How they lead us through a perilous time in which energy will again be an even more pernicious root cause of international conflicts will have an impact upon our global survival.
Why a new age of light? Well, for one thing, the price of oil hit $100 a barrel on futures exchanges, as I predicted. The age of cheap hydrocarbon energy is unofficially over. We need to turn to renewable sources to save what we can of our energy-driven culture.
Here's another sobering fact: Prof. Jared Diamond reported yesterday in the New York Times that developing countries use 32 times more resources than emerging economies like China and India. Should they want to achieve our level of consumption and waste, it will clearly destroy the planet. So we have to change. And I'm not even talking about global warming.
Congress started us on the path by mandating a phase-out of the energy-wasting incandescent light bulb. Sorry Mr. Edison, it had to go. It throws off way too much of its energy in the form of heat and uses up too many electrons for the light it produces. In four years, it will pretty much go the way of eight-track tape players and betamax video recorders. The future isn't necessarily in compact fluorescent bulbs, however. They contain mercury, and few places will recycle them for that reason. The future lies in LEDs and nanotechnology.
Let's start with LEDs. They last some 50,000 hours, compared with 1,000 for Edison-style bulbs and 6,000 for CFLs. Better yet, they contain non-toxic materials. Further advances in nanotechnology will allow us to integrate solar-cell technology directly into building surfaces and windows.
Why not not create a south-facing wall unit with an imbedded device to generate electrons and thermal energy? One of the many engineering problems we face is to use electricity sparingly and put the sun to work more efficiently.
If we were able to put up an antenna in outer space and capture the billions of volts of electricity just coming from the solar wind -- and be able to transmit it efficiently to an earth station -- that would be a major accomplishment. I'm not smoking something funny on this idea: Nicola Tesla, the father of alternating current, had this idea more than 100 years ago in several forms.
We need to think outside of the proverbial light bulb that cartoon characters had when they had an idea. How can we generate power without burning fossil fuels? How can we take the heat that is soaked up by our earth, waters, homes, buildings, appliances and physical plants and re-use it or store it for future use? It all takes some imagination and application. The solutions will be bigger than an entire moon program. If we do this right, we won't need to explore other planets to live on. We'll be able to live on the one we already have.
Why a new age of light? Well, for one thing, the price of oil hit $100 a barrel on futures exchanges, as I predicted. The age of cheap hydrocarbon energy is unofficially over. We need to turn to renewable sources to save what we can of our energy-driven culture.
Here's another sobering fact: Prof. Jared Diamond reported yesterday in the New York Times that developing countries use 32 times more resources than emerging economies like China and India. Should they want to achieve our level of consumption and waste, it will clearly destroy the planet. So we have to change. And I'm not even talking about global warming.
Congress started us on the path by mandating a phase-out of the energy-wasting incandescent light bulb. Sorry Mr. Edison, it had to go. It throws off way too much of its energy in the form of heat and uses up too many electrons for the light it produces. In four years, it will pretty much go the way of eight-track tape players and betamax video recorders. The future isn't necessarily in compact fluorescent bulbs, however. They contain mercury, and few places will recycle them for that reason. The future lies in LEDs and nanotechnology.
Let's start with LEDs. They last some 50,000 hours, compared with 1,000 for Edison-style bulbs and 6,000 for CFLs. Better yet, they contain non-toxic materials. Further advances in nanotechnology will allow us to integrate solar-cell technology directly into building surfaces and windows.
Why not not create a south-facing wall unit with an imbedded device to generate electrons and thermal energy? One of the many engineering problems we face is to use electricity sparingly and put the sun to work more efficiently.
If we were able to put up an antenna in outer space and capture the billions of volts of electricity just coming from the solar wind -- and be able to transmit it efficiently to an earth station -- that would be a major accomplishment. I'm not smoking something funny on this idea: Nicola Tesla, the father of alternating current, had this idea more than 100 years ago in several forms.
We need to think outside of the proverbial light bulb that cartoon characters had when they had an idea. How can we generate power without burning fossil fuels? How can we take the heat that is soaked up by our earth, waters, homes, buildings, appliances and physical plants and re-use it or store it for future use? It all takes some imagination and application. The solutions will be bigger than an entire moon program. If we do this right, we won't need to explore other planets to live on. We'll be able to live on the one we already have.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Dr. Atomic, the Energy Bill & Edison
I have just seen one of the most moving theatrical spectacles ever, something that touches so profoundly, so humanely that it nearly transcends art. It was so powerful, so full of relevance and hope for everyone that it carries an essential message as we strive for hope in a world torn by energy wars.
John Adams and Peter Sellars's "Dr. Atomic" is an opera that was reworked in a new version now playing at the Lyric Opera of Chicago (http://www.lyricopera.org/) through January. It is three hours of riveting music, splendid poetry, pointed choreography, exquisite staging and soul-searing singing and performance. It is an immutable theatrical experience that starts out with J. Robert Oppenheimer singing about losing his soul while leading the atomic bomb testing project in 1945. The Germans have surrendered and the Manhattan Project is in its last phase in the desert of Los Alamos, New Mexico. "The Gadget," as the bomb is codenamed, is nearly ready for detonation, although no one is quite sure if it will work or if it will ignite the entire atmosphere as Edward Teller, the father of the hydrogen bomb, predicts.
What starts out as a military rationale for continuing the project -- while carefully picking cities in Japan where it will be dropped -- ends up being a deep examination into the human soul and psyche. John Adams's melange of electronic music and scintillating use of the skilled Lyric Orchestra, brings you deep into the human problem: What happens after we release this power that fuels the sun? What will happen to the world? How will it sunder our souls?
Peter Sellars does not attempt to answer that question fully, yet provides insights through his libretto, using Baudelaire, Donne and the Bhagavad-Gita in his soaring lyrics.
In two arias that portray Oppenheimer's torment, he sings of this disconnected sense of the divine in the words of John Donne's Holy Sonnet XIV:
"Batter my heart, three person'd God.
For you,
As yet but knock, breathe,
Shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me,
and bend
Your force, to break, blow,
burn and make me new."
Oppenheimer's aria is not a religious invocation, despite Donne's context. The "three person'd God," in his meaning, is "Trinity," the name of the site of the bomb test. He's troubled by knowing that he will unleash the forces of nature, is humbled by it and admitting that it will change him -- and the world -- forever.
The perspective of the world's suffering to come is voiced by his wife Kitty, who sings in the words of poet Muriel Rukeyser:
"Those who most long for peace,
now pour their lives on war.
Our conflicts carry creation and its guilt,
these years' great arms are full of death and flowers.
A world is to be fought for, sung and built:
Love must imagine the world."
There's even a Native American perspective to the horror that's about to be unleashed, sung by Pasqualita (again the words of Ms. Rukeyser), the nanny for the Oppenheimers' children:
"We danced in prison to a winter music,
many we loved began to dream of the dead.
They make no promises, we never dreamed a threat.
And the dreams spread."
When the realization hits the Trinity team that the bomb will bring untold devastation, or in the words of Samuel Beckett "some things must remain unspeakable," the stage becomes a dynamic canvas of light and choreography that imitates death throes. The chorus then sings the words of the timeless Bhagavad-Gita:
"When I see you, Vishnu, ominpresent,
Shouldering the sky, in hues of rainbow,
With your mouths agape and flame-eyes staring --
all my peace is gone; my heart is troubled."
Thus Oppenheimer and the U.S. in its $2 billion quest to create the bomb to end all bombs, has created a monster that still resides with us. It is no Frankenstein, however. It can only be contained by the chains of our soul. Our ever-lusting desire to understand, tame and harness the sinews of the universe has us in a bind. Can we use this power to preserve or destroy? How will we bridle the wildness of our passions and hatreds?
Dr. Atomic doesn't seek to resolve these questions. It only provokes us to think about the questions and act -- guided by the angels of our better nature.
Adams and Sellars don't even try to duplicate an atomic bomb explosion in any theatrical way. They conclude their opera with the sound of a Japanese woman's voice (after the presumptive detonation of "Fat Boy" in the opera) -- and silence. In the end, we are left with the imploring gentleness of a single, female voice and the stark isolation of our own loneliness as we contemplate our future.
The future is like Grendel the beast staring at us from his cave. He is begging us to change.
Speaking of looking ahead, some civilized, good news came in the form of an energy bill just signed by President Bush. It re-orients our priorities on energy. Like any piece of legislation, it's full of disappointments and promise. Taken as a whole, though, it's full of hope that is the first step toward a future not obsessed with energy slavery.
The "Energy Indpependence and Security Act" mandated improved efficiency standards for cars, notching up fleet mileage averages to 35 miles per gallon by 2020. While on the surface this is a pathetically modest improvement -- my 12-year-old Toyota achieves that mileage now -- it was the first new fuel standard since 1975, when I graduated from high school.
More importantly, some of the mandates of the bill are comprehensive. Higher energy standards are put in place for federal buildings. Creation of biofuels from non-corn sources is encouraged. Advanced technologies such as generating electricity from ocean waves were supported. While there's still too many subsidies for making ethanol from corn -- a process that consumes a gallon of petroleum products for every gallon of ethanol produced (and no way to abate global warming) -- the law is loaded with pro-technology breaks.
There were two huge downsides of the bill: Tax breaks were not taken away from the petroleum industry (they don't need them) and the homeowner incentives for solar energy and alternative energy were not extended beyond 2008 (Congress may revisit this next year). The petroleum lobby got to the White House and Senate Republicans at the final stage of the bill's progress. Since the Democratic leadership wanted to pass energy legislation this year -- and the GOP didn't want to take away any of the bananas from the 900-lb. gorillas pumping oil and gas -- the downsized bill lost a lot of incentives to mandate use of renewable energy and electricity.
An obscure little provision pumps up research efforts for making something that's essential to the alternative-energy equation: A long-term storage battery. This concept has entranced everyone from Faraday to today's engineers of electric cars. But no one has been able to make it work and produce it cheaply. With a long-term battery, you can store wind, wave and solar power on site. You don't have to push it into the grid when you generate it. Cars can go thousands of miles cleanly without a stop and be recharged by solar panels on their rooftops or on every garage.
No less than Thomas Edison was perplexed by his inability to design the ultimate battery. Here's an excerpt from "The Edisonian," the newsletter from the Edison archives in New Jersey (just got this yesterday in the mail -- see edison.rutgers.edu/):
"Beginning in 1883, Edison began working on a system to convert coal directly to electricity. Although Edison never succeeded in his quest, he was later quoted as saying 'I'd put my money on the sun and solar energy. What a source of power! I hope we don't have to wait till oil and coal run out before we tackle that. I wish I had more years left.'"
Oppenheimer, Edison and our Congress all were striving for the same goal: Reaping as much energy from nature in a safe, economical and (hopefully) peaceful way.
Or, better put from the Bhagavad-Gita (also from Dr. Atomic):
"A serene spirit accepts pleasure and pain
with an even mind,
and is unmoved from either.
He alone is worthy of immortality."
The world-soul is gradually acknowledging the wisdom of the Gita. We need to stay on course. Energy independence should be our destiny. Who will be the immortal who will engineer a solution that will negate the reason for resource wars? Will it come from Silicon Valley, where the founders of Google are funding ways of producing power that are cheaper and cleaner than burning coal? Will it come from the engineers at Nanosolar, who are using the nascent technology of nanotechnoloy to efficiently and cheaply "print" solar cells? Or will it come from some girl or boy's tinkering in a garage or shed somewhere in the North America, China, India or Africa?
As we approach the darkest time of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, we are desperately seeking many such serene souls. The solstice will pass, as we know, and the days will be become longer and more full of light.
It's my humble opinion that world peace will not be possible unless every nation can find a way of achieving energy independence without pillaging resources that contribute to everyone's demise. The cost of releasing the sun's power was enormous; the cost of not harnessing it fully is even higher.
Happy Holidays,
John F. Wasik
www.johnwasik.com
John Adams and Peter Sellars's "Dr. Atomic" is an opera that was reworked in a new version now playing at the Lyric Opera of Chicago (http://www.lyricopera.org/) through January. It is three hours of riveting music, splendid poetry, pointed choreography, exquisite staging and soul-searing singing and performance. It is an immutable theatrical experience that starts out with J. Robert Oppenheimer singing about losing his soul while leading the atomic bomb testing project in 1945. The Germans have surrendered and the Manhattan Project is in its last phase in the desert of Los Alamos, New Mexico. "The Gadget," as the bomb is codenamed, is nearly ready for detonation, although no one is quite sure if it will work or if it will ignite the entire atmosphere as Edward Teller, the father of the hydrogen bomb, predicts.
What starts out as a military rationale for continuing the project -- while carefully picking cities in Japan where it will be dropped -- ends up being a deep examination into the human soul and psyche. John Adams's melange of electronic music and scintillating use of the skilled Lyric Orchestra, brings you deep into the human problem: What happens after we release this power that fuels the sun? What will happen to the world? How will it sunder our souls?
Peter Sellars does not attempt to answer that question fully, yet provides insights through his libretto, using Baudelaire, Donne and the Bhagavad-Gita in his soaring lyrics.
In two arias that portray Oppenheimer's torment, he sings of this disconnected sense of the divine in the words of John Donne's Holy Sonnet XIV:
"Batter my heart, three person'd God.
For you,
As yet but knock, breathe,
Shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me,
and bend
Your force, to break, blow,
burn and make me new."
Oppenheimer's aria is not a religious invocation, despite Donne's context. The "three person'd God," in his meaning, is "Trinity," the name of the site of the bomb test. He's troubled by knowing that he will unleash the forces of nature, is humbled by it and admitting that it will change him -- and the world -- forever.
The perspective of the world's suffering to come is voiced by his wife Kitty, who sings in the words of poet Muriel Rukeyser:
"Those who most long for peace,
now pour their lives on war.
Our conflicts carry creation and its guilt,
these years' great arms are full of death and flowers.
A world is to be fought for, sung and built:
Love must imagine the world."
There's even a Native American perspective to the horror that's about to be unleashed, sung by Pasqualita (again the words of Ms. Rukeyser), the nanny for the Oppenheimers' children:
"We danced in prison to a winter music,
many we loved began to dream of the dead.
They make no promises, we never dreamed a threat.
And the dreams spread."
When the realization hits the Trinity team that the bomb will bring untold devastation, or in the words of Samuel Beckett "some things must remain unspeakable," the stage becomes a dynamic canvas of light and choreography that imitates death throes. The chorus then sings the words of the timeless Bhagavad-Gita:
"When I see you, Vishnu, ominpresent,
Shouldering the sky, in hues of rainbow,
With your mouths agape and flame-eyes staring --
all my peace is gone; my heart is troubled."
Thus Oppenheimer and the U.S. in its $2 billion quest to create the bomb to end all bombs, has created a monster that still resides with us. It is no Frankenstein, however. It can only be contained by the chains of our soul. Our ever-lusting desire to understand, tame and harness the sinews of the universe has us in a bind. Can we use this power to preserve or destroy? How will we bridle the wildness of our passions and hatreds?
Dr. Atomic doesn't seek to resolve these questions. It only provokes us to think about the questions and act -- guided by the angels of our better nature.
Adams and Sellars don't even try to duplicate an atomic bomb explosion in any theatrical way. They conclude their opera with the sound of a Japanese woman's voice (after the presumptive detonation of "Fat Boy" in the opera) -- and silence. In the end, we are left with the imploring gentleness of a single, female voice and the stark isolation of our own loneliness as we contemplate our future.
The future is like Grendel the beast staring at us from his cave. He is begging us to change.
Speaking of looking ahead, some civilized, good news came in the form of an energy bill just signed by President Bush. It re-orients our priorities on energy. Like any piece of legislation, it's full of disappointments and promise. Taken as a whole, though, it's full of hope that is the first step toward a future not obsessed with energy slavery.
The "Energy Indpependence and Security Act" mandated improved efficiency standards for cars, notching up fleet mileage averages to 35 miles per gallon by 2020. While on the surface this is a pathetically modest improvement -- my 12-year-old Toyota achieves that mileage now -- it was the first new fuel standard since 1975, when I graduated from high school.
More importantly, some of the mandates of the bill are comprehensive. Higher energy standards are put in place for federal buildings. Creation of biofuels from non-corn sources is encouraged. Advanced technologies such as generating electricity from ocean waves were supported. While there's still too many subsidies for making ethanol from corn -- a process that consumes a gallon of petroleum products for every gallon of ethanol produced (and no way to abate global warming) -- the law is loaded with pro-technology breaks.
There were two huge downsides of the bill: Tax breaks were not taken away from the petroleum industry (they don't need them) and the homeowner incentives for solar energy and alternative energy were not extended beyond 2008 (Congress may revisit this next year). The petroleum lobby got to the White House and Senate Republicans at the final stage of the bill's progress. Since the Democratic leadership wanted to pass energy legislation this year -- and the GOP didn't want to take away any of the bananas from the 900-lb. gorillas pumping oil and gas -- the downsized bill lost a lot of incentives to mandate use of renewable energy and electricity.
An obscure little provision pumps up research efforts for making something that's essential to the alternative-energy equation: A long-term storage battery. This concept has entranced everyone from Faraday to today's engineers of electric cars. But no one has been able to make it work and produce it cheaply. With a long-term battery, you can store wind, wave and solar power on site. You don't have to push it into the grid when you generate it. Cars can go thousands of miles cleanly without a stop and be recharged by solar panels on their rooftops or on every garage.
No less than Thomas Edison was perplexed by his inability to design the ultimate battery. Here's an excerpt from "The Edisonian," the newsletter from the Edison archives in New Jersey (just got this yesterday in the mail -- see edison.rutgers.edu/):
"Beginning in 1883, Edison began working on a system to convert coal directly to electricity. Although Edison never succeeded in his quest, he was later quoted as saying 'I'd put my money on the sun and solar energy. What a source of power! I hope we don't have to wait till oil and coal run out before we tackle that. I wish I had more years left.'"
Oppenheimer, Edison and our Congress all were striving for the same goal: Reaping as much energy from nature in a safe, economical and (hopefully) peaceful way.
Or, better put from the Bhagavad-Gita (also from Dr. Atomic):
"A serene spirit accepts pleasure and pain
with an even mind,
and is unmoved from either.
He alone is worthy of immortality."
The world-soul is gradually acknowledging the wisdom of the Gita. We need to stay on course. Energy independence should be our destiny. Who will be the immortal who will engineer a solution that will negate the reason for resource wars? Will it come from Silicon Valley, where the founders of Google are funding ways of producing power that are cheaper and cleaner than burning coal? Will it come from the engineers at Nanosolar, who are using the nascent technology of nanotechnoloy to efficiently and cheaply "print" solar cells? Or will it come from some girl or boy's tinkering in a garage or shed somewhere in the North America, China, India or Africa?
As we approach the darkest time of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, we are desperately seeking many such serene souls. The solstice will pass, as we know, and the days will be become longer and more full of light.
It's my humble opinion that world peace will not be possible unless every nation can find a way of achieving energy independence without pillaging resources that contribute to everyone's demise. The cost of releasing the sun's power was enormous; the cost of not harnessing it fully is even higher.
Happy Holidays,
John F. Wasik
www.johnwasik.com
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
American Band Rocks!
If you care at all about music, American values, high school, teenage angst, the rise of fundamentalism or high school bands, read "American Band" by Kristen Laine.
First of all, it has nothing to do with the song by Grand Funk Railroad or anything connected with rock n'roll. It's a stirring portrait of growing up within the confines of a high school band program. I know this may bring sighs and propel you to the next blog or youtube, but consider this: there may be no finer tableau of the changing American landscape.
It's about teenagers, loss, coming to terms with God, love, winning, the healing nature of music and Middle America. The Concord High School band program is the setting. It's situated in Elkhart, Indiana, once the musical instrument capital of the world that has seen better days. Focusing on the leaders of the band from the legendary director Max Jones to kids who are struggling to fit in, the narrative takes you on a six-month journey from the beginning of the band's season to its competition to defend its title as state champion.
The kids in the band are starkly human. They range from being "perfect" to barely managing to step off correctly when the band marches down the field. We've all grown up with these people, seen them mature and blossom.
I know this book captured a slice of my life. I learned french horn to get into my high school band, eventually winning first chair after two years of playing (my native instrument is violin). I wanted to wear the uniform, be a part of something big marching to a definite goal. Our band director was a driven man (Wayne Erck), who eventually became a general in the Army Reserve. We traveled, played football games and went to contests, although we didn't place very highly.
My dad was a band director for more than 30 years, leading a band that had the fortune to play for a sensational basketball team that won the Illinois state title two years in a row (the awesome Thornridge). One of my first recollections was holding a banner in a 4th of July parade for his band. I grew up with Sousa before I even knew the Stones, Beatles or Beach Boys even existed.
The most penetrating truth about this book is how it captures the essence of the American experience. Two Hispanic girls are working hard to assimilate. A cadre of the top students are part of a fundamentalist Christian sect. The band's student leader is dealing with his mother's illness and beloved sister's death. Does this remarkable group of achievers take the state championship again? Read the book. It's worth your while. The music of life can be such an uplifting and heartbreaking tune at times.
First of all, it has nothing to do with the song by Grand Funk Railroad or anything connected with rock n'roll. It's a stirring portrait of growing up within the confines of a high school band program. I know this may bring sighs and propel you to the next blog or youtube, but consider this: there may be no finer tableau of the changing American landscape.
It's about teenagers, loss, coming to terms with God, love, winning, the healing nature of music and Middle America. The Concord High School band program is the setting. It's situated in Elkhart, Indiana, once the musical instrument capital of the world that has seen better days. Focusing on the leaders of the band from the legendary director Max Jones to kids who are struggling to fit in, the narrative takes you on a six-month journey from the beginning of the band's season to its competition to defend its title as state champion.
The kids in the band are starkly human. They range from being "perfect" to barely managing to step off correctly when the band marches down the field. We've all grown up with these people, seen them mature and blossom.
I know this book captured a slice of my life. I learned french horn to get into my high school band, eventually winning first chair after two years of playing (my native instrument is violin). I wanted to wear the uniform, be a part of something big marching to a definite goal. Our band director was a driven man (Wayne Erck), who eventually became a general in the Army Reserve. We traveled, played football games and went to contests, although we didn't place very highly.
My dad was a band director for more than 30 years, leading a band that had the fortune to play for a sensational basketball team that won the Illinois state title two years in a row (the awesome Thornridge). One of my first recollections was holding a banner in a 4th of July parade for his band. I grew up with Sousa before I even knew the Stones, Beatles or Beach Boys even existed.
The most penetrating truth about this book is how it captures the essence of the American experience. Two Hispanic girls are working hard to assimilate. A cadre of the top students are part of a fundamentalist Christian sect. The band's student leader is dealing with his mother's illness and beloved sister's death. Does this remarkable group of achievers take the state championship again? Read the book. It's worth your while. The music of life can be such an uplifting and heartbreaking tune at times.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Travails of the Health Care System
It's been a rough month so far, but I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm learning quite a bit and it's a "growing experience," as my mother used to say.
Basically it started with discovering that my payroll service messed up on withholding taxes. This is really my responsiblity, so I can't entirely blame them.
Moving onto another unresolved matter, I realized that a drug and medical service discount card I ordered never came. No paperwork, no card, nothing. I called and emailed the online provider and they couldn't offer me any explanation, so I cancelled something I was being charged for -- but never received. Overall, I've had a good experience with the vendor -- ehealthinsurance.com -- but on this service they dropped the ball. I tried to use a free card offered through my county government, but the pharmacist wouldn't accept it, so I was forced to pay the obnoxious full retail price for a small amount of medicine my wife needed and antibiotics for my youngest daughter, who caught bronchitis. Since we have a high-deductible health insurance policy, the doctor's visit is out of pocket. The irony is, the only solution the health insurance industry has for reducing costs is to have those who were formerly insured for most costs pay more!
Then as I was trying to save a hundred dollars on medication today, I got a call from my credit card company. My wife and I learned that we were the victims of identity theft. Some rapacious soul got a hold of our credit card numbers and went on a shopping spree, charging more than $10,000 in merchandise. Of course, we're not responsible for paying for all of this, and we promptly shut down the account. Not a big deal, since this is the second time this has happened and our credit card company (Citicards) alerted us through a special program that tracks unusual spending patterns. It's just unnerving to be a victim -- again.
On top of that, my father-in-law, who has been gravely ill, went back into the hospital.
I'm not saying I'm snakebit. It's been a good year overall. I got a book deal (for another investment book I will co-author) I didn't expect, several paid speaking engagements (which I thoroughly enjoyed) and some prospects for other projects. I've been blessed and happy to be doing what I love.
Without too much introspection, I am, however, dumbstruck at how inefficient this whole system of moving health care dollars around has become. Since I'm a small business owner, I pay the highest rates for insurance, medicine, dental care and other items. Why can't we create one entity to buy health care services and drugs and offer discounts to everyone? Why create so many layers between us and the services we need?
Every middleman is going to demand something and things get lost in the process, like direct care and well being. If you're on your own, you have absolutely no purchasing clout. You're at the mercy of the kindness of strangers. I asked one of our dentists for a discount and he flatly said, "we don't discount, period." Several years ago when Blue Cross nailed us for paying for a surgical procedure by calling it a "pre-existing condition" (my daughter was born with this malady), the non-profit hospital that was busy building a posh new facility wouldn't reduce their full-retail bill by a dime.
There is always next year. If the economy doesn't go belly up, our candidates may be serious about creating an efficient health care system. I, for one, will be supporting the one with the best plan. I have a few ideas of my own.
www.johnwasik.com
Basically it started with discovering that my payroll service messed up on withholding taxes. This is really my responsiblity, so I can't entirely blame them.
Moving onto another unresolved matter, I realized that a drug and medical service discount card I ordered never came. No paperwork, no card, nothing. I called and emailed the online provider and they couldn't offer me any explanation, so I cancelled something I was being charged for -- but never received. Overall, I've had a good experience with the vendor -- ehealthinsurance.com -- but on this service they dropped the ball. I tried to use a free card offered through my county government, but the pharmacist wouldn't accept it, so I was forced to pay the obnoxious full retail price for a small amount of medicine my wife needed and antibiotics for my youngest daughter, who caught bronchitis. Since we have a high-deductible health insurance policy, the doctor's visit is out of pocket. The irony is, the only solution the health insurance industry has for reducing costs is to have those who were formerly insured for most costs pay more!
Then as I was trying to save a hundred dollars on medication today, I got a call from my credit card company. My wife and I learned that we were the victims of identity theft. Some rapacious soul got a hold of our credit card numbers and went on a shopping spree, charging more than $10,000 in merchandise. Of course, we're not responsible for paying for all of this, and we promptly shut down the account. Not a big deal, since this is the second time this has happened and our credit card company (Citicards) alerted us through a special program that tracks unusual spending patterns. It's just unnerving to be a victim -- again.
On top of that, my father-in-law, who has been gravely ill, went back into the hospital.
I'm not saying I'm snakebit. It's been a good year overall. I got a book deal (for another investment book I will co-author) I didn't expect, several paid speaking engagements (which I thoroughly enjoyed) and some prospects for other projects. I've been blessed and happy to be doing what I love.
Without too much introspection, I am, however, dumbstruck at how inefficient this whole system of moving health care dollars around has become. Since I'm a small business owner, I pay the highest rates for insurance, medicine, dental care and other items. Why can't we create one entity to buy health care services and drugs and offer discounts to everyone? Why create so many layers between us and the services we need?
Every middleman is going to demand something and things get lost in the process, like direct care and well being. If you're on your own, you have absolutely no purchasing clout. You're at the mercy of the kindness of strangers. I asked one of our dentists for a discount and he flatly said, "we don't discount, period." Several years ago when Blue Cross nailed us for paying for a surgical procedure by calling it a "pre-existing condition" (my daughter was born with this malady), the non-profit hospital that was busy building a posh new facility wouldn't reduce their full-retail bill by a dime.
There is always next year. If the economy doesn't go belly up, our candidates may be serious about creating an efficient health care system. I, for one, will be supporting the one with the best plan. I have a few ideas of my own.
www.johnwasik.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
