The end result of laziness

I'm all for giving away second-hand/used clothing to charitable organizations that distribute it to those in need. I do it myself a couple of times a year. For example, the Salvation Army and the Red Cross do a wonderful job with organizing this. Their numerous clothing bins are distributed around the city, and it doesn't really matter which organization you support when you deposit bags of clothing in the bins belonging to one of these organizations. The goal is to help others and to reuse clothing. But there reaches a point when enough is enough; when people are lazy and don't walk the extra distance to place clothing in a bin that's not completely full. The other thing they don't do is place the clothing they're giving away in a bag and seal it before they try to dump it in the bin. I walked by this bin the other day and became irritated. I thought, how can people be so lazy? I mean really, what does it cost them to walk a few blocks further to deposit their bags of clothing in another bin? But they won't do that, nor will they place the clothing in a bag before they deposit it. They'd rather that the bins end up looking like this--see photo below. I have to say that I just don't get it. No wonder sloth is one of the seven deadly sins. There is an awful lot of sloth in society, and by that I mean, an aversion to making active, conscious decisions to better oneself and society. Every time you litter or dump clothing willy-nilly wherever it suits you, every time you don't do what you should do for the good of all, you are being slothful. If you behave in this way, you cannot tell me that you love the people around you or your country. Quite the opposite. You are saying, 'I don't care about my neighborhood or my country'. You are saying 'I'm entitled to do as I please. Someone else can pick up after me'. And that is what happens most of the time. In my book, you are selfish and spoiled, in addition to being lazy. Because when I see these bins, I think of garbage bins. That's what you're essentially depositing in these bins--your garbage. It doesn't help these organizations one bit that they have to use their time cleaning up after you and sorting through what is useful and what is not. And it is not their fault that people are so incredibly shameless and lazy. 

Bird tales

The arrival of spring means the return of birds to the garden, birds of all kinds. Sparrows, brown and black thrushes, crows, magpies, wagtails, robins (the European ones that are smaller than the American ones), ring-necked doves, and (Eurasian) blue tits. Sparrows are most prevalent and spend most of their time in one of two huge bushes in my garden, the kaiser bush and the red currant bush which are more or less opposite each other. When I am working in the garden I can hear them quarreling and chattering; they fly back and forth between both bushes, with stops at the birdbath to drink water and to take a communal bath. Watching them flap around together in the birdbath is a hoot. And when it's really been hot during past summers, they share the birdbath with the bees that line up on the rim to drink water. 

This year there is a large crow that saunters around the garden like he (she) owns the place. My garden neighbor calls her Clara, so we assume it's a female bird. Clara struts and shows off for us; she is not afraid of very much. It is the neighborhood cats that are scared of her; she has chased them out of the garden on numerous occasions. This year she has discovered my neighbor's small stone birdbath that has been placed at ground level. Clara and several of the magpies enjoy drinking water and plucking insects from this birdbath. It's amusing to watch them. She sometimes walks around my garden as do the brown thrushes, looking for insects (mostly earthworms) to eat. The brown thrushes remind me of little dinosaurs; I call them the little raptors. They have a menacing look in their eyes that strikes me as primeval.

As I walk to and from the garden, I pass Kiellands plass with its large pluming fountains whose water descends via small successive waterfalls into at least six small pools lined with smooth medium-sized stones (NLA - Alexander Kiellands plass (landskapsarkitektur.no). Oslo's birds have discovered these pools, sharing them with small dogs and toddlers who like to wander down to the water's edge. Sometimes the dogs take a dip, but mostly the birds have the pools to themselves. They include mallard ducks, pigeons, and seagulls for the most part, but also thrushes and smaller birds. This morning on my way to the garden, a mother duck crossed the sidewalk in front of me followed by her five little ducklings. The UPS driver who was delivering a package nearby stopped to watch them as well, and we commented how sweet it was to see them. Here we are in the middle of a large city, and the ducks are raising their families here. Nature adapts to all sorts of situations and seems to do so readily; that is definitely the case for mallard ducks. There must be a reason that the ducks stay put; one of them must be that people feed them bread. But there are also droves of insects surrounding the water pools that you can see in the late afternoon summer sunlight, flitting about in the warmth. There are probably also a lot of earthworms and other ground insects. The ducks also eat seeds and the nearby plant matter (roots and tubers) that abound.

A less happy story is what happened to the magpie nest outside our bedroom window. The magpie couple spent a lot of time earlier this spring enlarging last year's nest of twigs and branches. The nest seemed to double in size and looked to be spread over two levels. This pair of birds comes back every year to raise their young. Alas, this year it was not to be. Last Wednesday, I heard a crack and took a look out the window; I had already guessed that it had something to do with the branch. The branch holding the nest had cracked off and fallen to the ground. My best guess is that the nest was too heavy and that the birds had built it too far out on the limb. This year's addition to the nest certainly did not help. I felt so bad for them; they don't always assess the situation correctly and this year they lost out. We don't know if there were eggs in the nest, but if there were, they were destroyed along with the nest. The birds disappeared for a few days, but yesterday morning I heard them chattering in the yard again. They'll be back next year, but there won't be any baby magpies this year unless they overtake an abandoned nest. 

We are moving toward summer now--the season of sun, warmth, growth, new life, and easy days. I look forward to lounging in my garden and dozing off to the sound of bird chatter. It's a wonderful part of summer. 

Quasi friendships

I rarely cancel social plans that I've made with friends. Throughout my life, friends have been and are important to me. In other words, they are a priority in my life. For me to cancel plans with them, I have to be either sick or unable to keep my obligations due to a crisis of some sort, neither of which happens very often. I have never used school or work projects as an excuse to cancel plans; if anything, I didn't make social plans if I knew I had an exam on the near horizon or a crucial work project to finish, because I didn't want to cancel. I think carefully about what I promise, but once I promise something, I fulfill that promise. I don't promise what I can't deliver. 

I try to be available for get-togethers with friends and I look forward to them. But we live in a society now that worships work, and being busy at work is often used as an excuse for not getting together. I used to think it was purely an American trend--this obsession with work. But it's not. I recently tried to get together with some friends that I haven't seen since before Christmas--the end of November to be exact. We are a small group of women who meet and enjoy chatting for a couple of hours over dinner. My attempt to gather us together was rebuffed by one of them, who considers herself the busiest of us all. Granted, she has a demanding job, but I don't understand her priorities or her behavior. It wasn't that I was trying to plan a get-together for a week or two in the future; I was wondering if we could perhaps finalize a date at the end of June. Nail it down, so to speak. She wasn't having any of it; her excuse was that there might be upcoming work projects that would preclude her settling on a specific date for a get-together. Another woman in our group tried to get her to change her mind, but she ignored that attempt. What will happen is the following; at the end of June, the woman who won't meet us now will let us know that she is now available on such and such a day and would we like to get together. And usually we all fall in line to accommodate her schedule. Except that this time around I don't want to accommodate her. We've all done it for so long; she always calls the shots and it's always been that way. I'm not interested in continuing the pattern. 

I also don't understand another type of peculiar behavior where friends are concerned. Plans are made and everyone seems to look forward to getting together. But as the date approaches, one person backs out, then another, so that by the time we actually do meet, the number of joiners has been halved. I don't get it. It goes back to the idea of obligation; if you've said that you'll meet someone, you are obligated to do so unless there is a really good reason for not being able to do so. I can remember inviting four friends/colleagues to dinner (over fifteen years ago); all said they would come, but suddenly on the night in question, two canceled without a good explanation. I dealt with it then and can deal with such situations now, but it's downright rude to treat people this way. Imagine you had planned a big dinner party, had invited fifty people and half of them canceled at the last minute. People have also been known to do this at weddings; they are invited to the reception dinner and cancel at the last minute or don't commit to attending until the last minute. Are they waiting for a better offer? It's rude and selfish behavior. Besides the costs involved for the host, it's a downer for the host as well. It tells the host(s) that they are not a priority. I imagine that the invitees who behave this way think it's perfectly ok to do so. 

Then you have the people who never seem to be able to find a time to get together no matter what. But they stay in touch by texting and often say that they hope they'll see you again soon, or that we should get together soon. If you take them at their word, you quickly find out that they are not truly interested in meeting in person. 

I'm not sure I can really call these type of people friends. Quasi friends is more like it. Perhaps many work friendships developed over the years, with socializing once or twice a year, fit this definition. Once you no longer work with people on a regular basis, the reason for being friends lessens. After all, many work friendships are based on complaining about work, and when one is no longer working, there is little to complain about.  

One thing is for certain; as time goes on, these types of people will fade from my life, and I will be the better for it. Life is about letting go--of the past, of certain mindsets, and of people. One can let people fade from one's life, or one can make the choice to let go of them. I tend toward the latter. I give many chances and make any number of attempts to get together, but at some point I make the decision to let go. And once I do, there is no going backward. That's ok really, since some friendships are relative in the sense that they fit a particular place and time and are not meant to last forever. I'm thankful for my true-blue lifelong friends, the ones who are always there for me, and I for them. They know who they are, and I'm lucky to have them in my life. 

Reflections on the role of women in the church

I wish I understood human behavior better. I draw my own conclusions when I see odd or quirky behavior, such as I have witnessed recently at Sunday mass the past few months. When communion time comes and lines form to go the the altar, the longest line is the one where the priest is dealing out communion. If there is a lay minister on the altar (usually a woman), her line is short, while the line to the priest is very long. Additionally I have also witnessed that people (usually elderly) who are sitting in pews on the left side of the church, for example, will walk across to the right side if the priest is dealing out communion on the right side of the altar. I wish I could tell you that there are only a few people who do this. Not the case. This past Sunday, the line for the priest extended from the altar down to the entrance doors, whereas the line for the female lay minister had about four or five people. The priest's line was made up of young and old alike. The priest should have motioned to those on his line to switch lines, but he didn't. I think it's about time it was brought up as a discussion point from the pulpit. 

I have concluded that this is reactionary and pathetic behavior, and it irritates me no end. I have received communion from female lay ministers for years in the USA and never gave it a second thought. It never bothered me and it never will. My feelings toward those who reject women in this way are less than Christian, I must admit. Their unchristian behavior is not even subtle, it's blatant. I feel like giving them a good dressing-down, because they deserve it for their reactionary and ignorant behavior. I feel like yelling at them during the mass--"wake up". I feel sorry for the female lay minister standing there wanting to do the job that the priest has given her. I make it a point to go to her and not to the priest. Are the hosts that the priest deals out of better quality than those the female lay minister deals out? Are they more blessed? No, they are not. The priest has already done that job before communion is dealt out. All hosts are equal. It's just that these ignorant people don't want to receive communion from a woman. It makes my blood boil. 

I'm glad when I see women on the altar, serving in some capacity. Why shouldn't they? As I've discussed in previous posts, what happens when or if there are no more male priests to do these jobs? What happens if vocations fall off to the point where there are no young men to take over for the old ones? What happens if only women are interested in doing the job of a priest at some future point? What will these reactionary parishioners do at that point? Boycott the church? Not likely. They will be forced to examine their behavior, and hopefully they will change. In the meantime, I will work on quieting my irritation at my fellow parishioners who are behaving in an unchristian way. But I will say that there still is a long way to go to eradicate the stupidity and ignorance that unfortunately exists where women are concerned in the Catholic church. I have decided that the next time the church wants me to donate more money for maintenance/upkeep, I am going to say no until this issue is discussed from the pulpit. 

The National (feat. Bon Iver) - Weird Goodbyes [Official Lyric Video]

I heard this song for the first time tonight, and I ended up really liking it. It's one of those (sad) songs that drags you in. If you want to read more about the group and the song, check out the following link: The National, Bon Iver Unite for New Song ‘Weird Goodbyes’ – Rolling Stone

Lyrics:

Memorize the bathwater, memorize the air

There'll come a time I'll wanna know I was here

Names on the doorframes, inches and ages

Handprints in concrete, at the softest stages

I don't know why I don't try harder

I feel like throwing towels into water

Get it down to nothing, everything that matters

Fever flashes, eyelashes and traffic patterns

Humidity, history, chemistry and panic

Swimsuits in windows of electric minivans

I don't know why I don't try harder

I've been going down some, some strange water

Move forward now, there's nothing to do

Can't turn around, I can't follow you

Your coat's in my car, I guess you forgot

It's crazy the things we let go of

It finally hits me, a mile's drive

The sky is leaking, my windshield's crying

I'm feeling sacred, my soul is stripped

Radio's painful, the words are clipped

The grief, it gets me, the weird goodbyes

My car is creepin', I think it's dying

I'm pullin' over until it heals

I'm on a shoulder of lemon fields

What was I even leaving for

I keep going back and forth

I think now I'm about to see

Didn't know how sad it'd be

Memorize the bathwater, memorize the air

There'll come a time I'll wanna know I was here

Names on the doorframes, inches and ages

Handprints in concrete, at the softest stages

I don't know why I don't try harder

I feel like throwing towels into water

Move forward now, there's nothing to do

Can't turn around, and I can't follow you

Your coat's in my car, I guess you forgot

It's crazy the things we let go of

It finally hits me, a mile's drive

The sky is leaking, my windshield's crying

I'm feeling sacred, my soul is stripped

Radio's painful, the words are clipped

The grief, it gets me, and the weird goodbyes

My car is creepin', I think it's dying

I'm pullin' over until it heals

I'm on a shoulder of lemon fields

The grief, it gets me, the weird goodbyes

My car is creepin', I think it's dying

I'm pullin' over until it heals

I'm on a shoulder of lemon fields

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Aaron Brooking Dessner / Matt Berninger

Weird Goodbyes lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing

Spring report from Oslo

It seems as if spring is finally here. Dare we hope? Each time that we've had a few consecutive days of nice warm weather, it's been followed by the return of winter's cold, as was the case for the past week. I read the weather forecasts religiously now, because having a garden makes one more attentive to the weather (and lack of good weather). My fellow gardeners and I share our frustrations about the lousy spring we've had so far; the only spring flowers that have bloomed are the snowdrops, crocuses and violets, and they didn't bloom until mid-April. The tulips are in wait modus, and even the forsythia has not bloomed. The one plant that has grown and will bloom soon is the Helleborus Snow Rose, which has lovely flowers as I remember. The grass lawn is another story. A thick layer of snow topped by ice covered the garden until mid-April, compacting the grass to the point where I am unsure if it will grow back during this season. Time will tell. I am prepared to reseed the small area of lawn that I have in my garden. 

It's pointless to be irritated at a season, I know, but I have been so irritated that winter just keeps hanging on. It won't let go this year. Weather is the main topic of conversation in the garden; questions arise about global warming. We are worried that the growing season will be too short this year. The joke is that we'd love for there to be more global warming in Oslo so that we had shorter winters and longer summers. The reality of course is that global warming will lead to cooling in some parts of the world due to the changes in weather patterns caused by the melting of the polar ice caps. Who knows where it will all lead or end? As one of my friends in the garden says, we can talk about all the problems in the world, and there are a lot of them, but in the end, she looks forward to going home to google 'how to prune a rose bush'. That's her way of relaxing. Mine is similar; I love looking at online garden catalogs and some of the ones that arrive in the mail. I love going into garden stores to wander around. Sometimes I have specific plans about what to buy, other times no. And I do google a lot of garden-related issues; right now I'm reading about how to aerate a lawn and how important it is to do that.  

Today is one of those lovely sunny days in Oslo that foretell the imminent arrival of summer. But again, I, like the tulips, am in a wait-and-see modus. In some parts of the country south of Oslo, where there are often two growing seasons for the farmers (e.g. grains), it snowed yesterday. Luckily it didn't snow in Oslo, it only rained. The garden needs water, so I won't complain. But it seems odd to me that I leave the garden after a few hours work, come home and make myself a cup of hot chocolate--a winter drink if ever there was one. I worked for two hours cleaning and cleaning out the greenhouse yesterday, throwing away old baskets and plant containers, since it was too chilly to do anything else. I noticed that there is a different type of spider that has taken up residence in the greenhouse; these spiders look like tiny brown crabs scuttling across the floor of the greenhouse when they scurry for cover. There are not a lot of them. The usual spiders are the larger white ones with spindly legs that remind me of daddy-longlegs; they run away at the slightest sign of trouble. There are also the pill bugs that spend most of their time hiding; you find them in the compost bin if you turn the contents, but also under watering cans and the like in the greenhouse. They eat decaying plant matter, which is a good thing. I've also begun to turn the earth in the planting beds; there are a lot of big earthworms this year. During the few warm days we've had, the bumblebees and honeybees were out foraging for pollen. The insects are doing their jobs, and the garden underground is teeming with life. The garden is just waiting for the 'go' signal so that the plants can bloom and do their jobs. 

Seiji Igusa - Keep The Groovy (Kabiito x Kevin)

Kabiito Amundsen (on the right) is the son of my friend Nyonga. He is a very good guitar player; here he partners with Kevin Chen to cover Seiji Igusa's Keep the Groovy......

Goodreads Book Giveaway: The Gifts of a Garden

 The giveaway starts on April 28th!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Gifts of a Garden

by Paula Mary De Angelis

Giveaway ends May 05, 2023.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

Bye bye Tucker Carlson (thank you, Dominion)

The shit hit the fan.

Karma is a bitch.

Payback is a bitch.

Justice is served.

The chickens came home to roost.

What goes around comes around.

What goes up must come down.

As you give so shall you receive.

You reap what you sow.

Harm set, harm get.

That dog had its day.

You made your bed and now you must lie in it.

It ain't over till it's over (and now it's over). 

Don't let the door hit you on your way out. 

---------------------------------

On April 24th, Fox News and Tucker Carlson parted ways. The day should go down in American history as a turning point of sorts. Dare we hope that it marks the beginning of better times for America--a return to truth in journalism, a return to integrity and a focus on personal ethics? One can hope. My other hope is that Fox News sinks into the muck that it helped to engender; with all the lawsuits against the company, perhaps they'll sink quickly under the financial pressure. One can hope. 

World Party - Ship of Fools

Another favorite song with a nautical theme--released in 1986......

It's how I often feel these days with everything that's going on in the world "Oh, save me, save me from tomorrow, I don't want to sail with this ship of fools, no, no. I want to run and hide right now"

Ship of Fools (lyrics) 

We're setting sail to the place on the map

From which no one has ever returned

Drawn by the promise of the joker and the fool

By the light of the crosses that burned

Drawn by the promise of the women and the lace

And the gold and the cotton and pearls

It's the place where they keep all the darkness you need

You sail away from the light of the world on this trip, baby

You will pay tomorrow

You're gonna pay tomorrow

You will pay tomorrow

Oh, oh, oh

Save me, save me from tomorrow

I don't want to sail with this ship of fools, no, no

Oh, save me, save me from tomorrow

I don't want to sail with this ship of fools, no, no

I want to run and hide right now

Avarice and greed are gonna drive you over the endless sea

They will leave you drifting in the shallows

Or drowning in the oceans of history

Traveling the world, you're in search of no good

But I'm sure you'll build your Sodom like you knew you would

Using all the good people for your galley slaves

As you're little boat struggles through the warning waves, but you don't pay

You will pay tomorrow

You're gonna pay tomorrow, yeah

You're gonna pay tomorrow

Save me, save me from tomorrow

I don't want to sail with this ship of fools, no, no, no

Save me, save me from tomorrow

I don't want to sail with this ship of fools

Where's it comin' from?

Oh, where's it goin' to?

It's just a, it's just a ship of fools

All abord now

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo...

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Karl Edmond De Vere Wallinger

Ship of Fools lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Ride Captain Ride by Blues Image

One of my favorite songs from the 1970s (released in 1970)

Ride Captain Ride (lyrics)

Seventy-three men sailed up

From the San Francisco Bay

Rolled off of their ship, and here's what they had to say

"We're callin' everyone to ride along to another shore

We can laugh our lives away and be free once more"

But no one heard them callin'

No one came at all

'Cause they were too busy watchin' those old raindrops fall

As a storm was blowin' out on the peaceful sea

Seventy-three men sailing off to history

Ride, captain ride upon your mystery ship

Be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip

Ride captain ride upon your mystery ship

On your way to a world that others might have missed

Seventy-three men sailed up from the San Francisco Bay

Got off the ship, and here's what they had to say

"We're callin' everyone to ride along to another shore

We can laugh our lives away and be free once more"

Ride, captain ride upon your mystery ship

Be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip

Ride captain ride upon your mystery ship

On your way to a world that others might have missed

Ride, captain ride upon your mystery ship

Be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Frank Konte / Michael Pinera

Tackling the daily news

This is often exactly how I feel, but not just about social media. The daily news stories in general, delivered to us on tv, radio and in newspapers, are disheartening, to put it mildly. Thus the dilemma has become (for me and for others I know): how to stay abreast of what is happening in the world without losing heart (and our minds)? Listening to tv or radio news is not part of my morning routine, and I am very selective about the few online newspaper sites I visit. I skim news stories and don't let myself drown in all the bad news. I know that there are a lot of bad things happening in the world, and I care about the people experiencing them, but I would rather stay hopeful and pray for a better world than go down the road of nihilism and despair. It serves no purpose and helps no one.  

Wandering through church history

My resolution for Lent this year was to read the New Testament. I was inspired by a Norwegian friend of mine who read the Bible and the Koran some years ago. She is not religious, but she was interested in learning about Christianity and Islam from a historical perspective and decided to go right to the sources. I will read the Old Testament at some point, but decided to start with the New Testament because Christianity as we know and practice it is based on the life and death of Christ. And his life and death are chronicled quite well in the New Testament. 

I grew to enjoy starting each day reading passages from the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. It was very interesting to compare their different styles as well as what they focused on and emphasized. Much of what they wrote about was similar, but I found John's gospel to be the most reflective and I preferred it to the others. But all of them present the life of Christ in an affecting way. I found myself marveling at the different miracles he performed; I'd known about them from previous gospel readings during the countless masses I've attended over the years, but I don't think I fully appreciated the extent of his miracles until now. Nor did I fully understand how much he was hated by the authorities and leaders at that time and those places, mostly because they felt threatened by him. Here was this man walking in their midst, preaching about loving God and your neighbor, healing the sick, allowing the blind to see, turning water into wine, walking on water, and taking a small number of loaves of bread and a small number of fish and multiplying them by the thousands in order to feed the crowds that came to listen to him speak. He made the Pharisees look like the hypocrites they were, but he did it without brutally judging them. He challenged them verbally by asking questions as replies to the questions they asked him. He embarrassed them, and that must have been the worst sin of all for him to have committed. After all, many of them considered themselves learned men and protectors of the laws. Christ in their eyes was a transgressor of those laws.  

My favorite book of the New Testament would have to be the Acts of the Apostles (the fifth book of the New Testament), presumably written by Luke (who wrote one of the gospels). If you want to learn about the founding and history of the early Church, the movement away from Judaism (the Jews ultimately rejected the Church) and toward the inclusion of the Gentiles, the spread of Christianity and further development of the Church, if you want to wander with the apostles from town to town and region to region, you can do so by reading the Acts. This book starts with the Ascension of Christ, describes the conversion of St. Paul and his subsequent missionary journeys in detail, and prepares readers for Paul's epistles. 

I enjoyed reading Paul's epistles to the Galatians, Romans, Corinthians, Philippians, and Thessalonians, among others. There are thirteen books in all. Paul was preoccupied with getting everyone on the same page, especially those to whom the job of passing along Christ's teachings had been entrusted. Paul couldn't be everywhere at once, so he relied on his fellow disciples and believers to preach the word of God. But these were men, not gods. They were often weak, proud, competitive, gossipy and backbiting. Conflicts and controversies arose. Paul warned against all those sins. He encouraged the teachers to take the moral high road. He reassured them, offered comfort and support, and chided them for their pettiness and unethical behaviors. But he did so in a loving way and always ended his letters by promising that he would soon visit those to whom he wrote. 

Nowhere in the New Testament did I find any statement that priests could not marry or that women could not become priests. What I did find were statements that advised men who wanted to become priests to have only one wife (not to be divorced) and to otherwise lead moral and upstanding lives. Women would not have been allowed to become priests at that time because society at that time did not allow women to have much power or say over their lives at all. Considered to be the weaker sex, women were mostly encouraged to obey their husbands, to stay in the shadows of their husbands. As the Church grew, it became more practical to encourage unmarried men to become priests and to remain celibate, simply because once they had a wife and children, their focus would be on them and not on their priestly duties. In other words, they would be distracted from their mission. Celibacy was thus encouraged and became the rule over time, but the rule is based on tradition, not dogma. Perhaps the Church should reconsider its position and relax the celibacy rule, allowing men who want to become priests to marry or not marry as they wish. Perhaps it should also reconsider its ban on women becoming priests, especially since there has been a decline in vocations among men. 

I did not like the final book of the New Testament--the book of Revelation. I found it to be quite bizarre and unenlightening. I learned very little from it, except that it contains apocalyptic visions and imagery that I don't want to delve into further in order to learn more about them. I'm not sure why this book was even included in the New Testament, as its style is quite different from all of the other books. 

The Old Testament awaits, and I look forward to starting on a new journey. As Christians, we were taught that the New Testament was more important for our spiritual journey than the Old, but there is a wealth of history in the Old Testament that I look forward to exploring. 

Forgiveness in our times

Our society has become more secular over the past few decades; there is less emphasis on the religious and spiritual aspects of life. I know that religion isn't necessary to create or achieve goodness in the world, but it has and does help people in that regard. Belief in God and/or a higher power and following the tenets of religion have defined and still define the lives of many people here on earth. That's a good thing, even though religious differences still underlie serious conflicts and wars.

With the gradual decrease in the importance of religion in society, one might expect that sin, guilt, and forgiveness were things of the past, belonging to the realm of religion. After all, if there is no sin, there is no guilt and no need to ask for forgiveness. But this is not the case. Religion has been replaced with an extreme form of political correctness that is focused on public shaming and on calling out the foibles and mistakes that others make. Where once sin and guilt were private matters between a person and his or her God, or between the sinner and the person sinned against, they are now public matters, especially if you are in the public eye. Think politician, actor, newscaster, celebrity. Nowadays major media organizations and social media behave like lions at a kill when they learn that someone has made a mistake, spoken out of turn, said something stupid, or done something embarrassing. I'm not talking about major crimes (murder, assault, rape etc.), I'm talking about some of the stupid or thoughtless things that people do or say. The things that make others cringe and the perpetrator cringe when he or she thinks about it afterward. Everyone has or will have such a moment at some point--perhaps a public meltdown, an argument with a spouse, yelling at a child. And rest assured, someone is always listening or watching, ready to pounce on what others say or do. Media spies or folk willing to publicly shame others are everywhere. 

Maybe the perpetrators of these transgressions shouldn't have said or done what they did, but done is done. But if what was said or done is caught on microphone or camera, their fifteen minutes of fame (infamy) await. It's not enough to report the news of the transgression once; it's reported over and over ad nauseam. Eventually the perpetrator is publicly shamed to the point where he or she says (is forced to say) 'I'm sorry' and asks for forgiveness. But from whom are they asking forgiveness? The public, the media, the wounded parties, or God? Or all of them? Because nowadays, one can't be sure. 

Why does society have this persistent and exaggerated need to pillory folk? Why are we so quick to judge others and to find the worst in others? It reminds me of the unenlightened times in past centuries, where people who had done wrong were locked into the pillory in the town square for a few hours. The aim was to publicly humiliate them. The pillory was often used to punish perjurers or those who incited to perjury. In that sense, our society is worse because individuals are pilloried via the media for much longer periods of time and for much lesser 'crimes', and the internet records the punishment for posterity. Some people 'survive' the punishment and make the best of it; others disappear from public life for good. 

I think it's odd that as secularism has increased, the ability to forgive others has diminished. The same people who scorn religion think it's perfectly alright to judge and punish the people they deem to have 'sinned'. They think it's perfectly alright to publicly humiliate others until the 'sinners' beg for forgiveness. The sinners are up against a tough crowd. Those doing the judging and humiliating are more like the Pharisees than like Christ. I'd rather take my chances with the latter; at least if you are truly sorry, forgiveness is available to you, and you need not be publicly scorned in order to obtain it. 

What a difference a week makes

What a difference a week makes! This is how the garden looked on March 29th--still a lot of snow on the ground and ice patches here and there. Pretty, but I was getting impatient because I wanted to get started in the garden. As luck would have it, we've had nothing but sunny and warm days this past week. So the snow and ice are gone. Next week it's supposed to rain every day, so I'm glad I used this week to rake leaves and dead plants and fill the compost bin with them. I'll have a lot of good compost to add to the soil in the autumn. 

The snowdrops are blooming and the crocuses, daffodils, grape hyacinths and tulips are starting to poke their heads up from the soil. Spring is here, and soon it will be time for planting this year's vegetables and flowers. 

And this is how it looked yesterday, April 7th--

April garden update

Today, the first day of April, was an absolutely beautiful day in Oslo. No joke (since it's April Fool's Day); the temperatures were in the forties, the sky was blue and cloudless, and the sun shone down and warmed everything it touched. That's a good thing, because the garden has gotten a late start this year due to all the snow and cold we've had. I cannot remember a winter during the past thirty years that has had so much snow as this year's. There are still snow patches in the garden, and ice in the places where the sun hasn't reached yet. But if we have a week with the temperature we had today, the snow and ice will melt and we'll be on our way toward a real spring. And from what I can see of the weather forecast for the next week or so, no more snow is predicted, thankfully. I hope that is the case; you never know. 

I sowed out seeds in the greenhouse this past Wednesday and Thursday--pumpkin, zucchini, cucumber, cherry tomato, sunflower, cornflower, pot marigold, nasturtium, and rose mallow. I will sow out string bean seeds on Monday. I decided to sow out now rather than wait two more weeks. The greenhouse is nice and warm during the day, even though temperatures at night still dip to around freezing. But the seed containers are on raised benches, nowhere near the ground. So they'll be fine; that has been my experience in previous years. Some of my fellow gardeners call me an optimist because I sow out so early. But last year I waited too long--to mid-April--and the vegetable plant seedlings were a bit too small when I planted them outdoors. So it took time for them to grow large enough, which delayed their vegetable production. 

When the ground is completely ice-free and I can work the soil, I'll plant my seed potatoes. That will probably be somewhere around mid-April. I've already started cutting down and removing dead stems and leaves, and I've pruned the rose bush that adorns the garden arch, as well as the ninebark tree near the greenhouse. I'm hoping that pruning the rose bush will force growth on the stems growing on the sides of the arch so that when the roses bloom it doesn't look like a bouffant hairdo at the top of the arch--piled high on top and little on the sides. 

The snowdrops are finally blooming, and the grape hyacinth and daffodils are starting to come up. I haven't seen any crocuses yet, but I guess they'll bloom soon. I'm looking forward to my forsythia blooming; I have three bushes planted in different areas of the garden. They are one of my favorite spring flowers. The cherry tree and lilac bushes survived the winter, as did my wisteria and magnolia tree. The berry bushes always do well--black currant, red currant, blueberry and gooseberry. They come back each year without fail. 

I'll post some photos soon. In the meantime, for all the gardeners I know and for the gardeners who read my blog--happy gardening!

Garbage in, garbage out (and the effect on society)

Apt, very apt concerning our current state of media affairs and the effect it's had on our society and way of life......

ChatGPT's rewriting of two of my poems

ChatGPT actually rewrote my poems when asked to; it didn't just make grammatical and/or vocabulary revisions like Bing. But I have the feeling that Bing would do more extensive rewrites if asked in a more specific way. I'll test it. Dealing with ChatGPT was a more impersonal experience than that with Bing, which I also found interesting. Here are ChatGPT's poetic attempts for my poems Transience and Entropy from Parables & Voices.  

I couldn't test Google's Bard, because it is currently not supported in Norway. Stay tuned. 

1. Transient Visions    (ChatGPT's poem, a rewriting of my poem Transience)

I glimpse with clarity,
the fleetingness of life.
Aware that every breath,
brings us closer to our demise.

Each season, every sunset,
a reminder of time's flight.
Even the moments we cherish,
eventually fade from sight.

Sorting through the moments,
like wheat from chaff we sift.
Holding onto wisdom,
while memories fade and drift.

I see with clarity,
yet darkness lurks behind.
For even visions transient,
will vanish from the mind.

------------------------

Transience  (my poem) 

I see with vision clearer,
The transience of life.
I am aware of life ending,
In every season and every evening.
Even the moments of the day
Fade to dusk and then into oblivion.
One separates the wheat from the chaff
And stores away those memories and thoughts
That are to be used in the making of wisdom;
Not all can be retained, possessed or hoarded.

I see with vision clearer, and then with vision darkened, 
For not even the vision remains
For more than just a moment. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

2. The Pull Towards Disorder    (ChatGPT's rewriting of my poem Entropy) 

All things seem to move
Towards chaos and disorder,
Without great effort and care
To resist the pull towards disorder.

In life, in love, we find
Our choices are like crossroads,
One path leads towards order,
While the other descends into chaos.

Love, at its best, brings order
Elevating our spirits and nature.
But when love is lost, entropy reigns
Disorder triumphs, and limits vanish.

Truth is a beacon of order,
Guiding us towards holy life.
Evil, on the other hand, leads to entropy
The road paved with choices that defy order.

---------------------------

Entropy   (my poem) 

All things, it seems
Tend to disorder
Without massive efforts
To prevent this.

In life, in love
The tendencies, the choices, 
All are crossroads, forked paths--
One to order, one to entropy.

Love, it will be said, promotes order, 
Elevates man's nature and his spirit.
But love destroyed is entropy defined--
Where limits cease existence; disorder thrives.

Truth is order, and a life defined thereby
Is holy and promotes the same in others.
Evil is the path to entropy, the road
Paved with choices that defy order.

-------------------------------------

Asking an AI chatbot to rewrite two of my poems

I've been reading a lot about the different AI chatbots that exist, and if you want to read a good article about comparisons among them, try this one: AI chatbots compared: Bard vs. Bing vs. ChatGPT - The Verge. I was curious as to how Bing would answer me when I asked it to rewrite two of my poems from my previously-published collection Parables & Voices. I started with Bing's AI chatbot. It was interesting to deal with it; firstly, it is very polite and nice, so if your questions are civil and reasonably intelligent, you will get civil and reasonably intelligent answers. I was not interested in challenging it in any way, nor in being rude in my interactions with it. I asked it to rewrite two of my poems and it did so. In both cases it made one or two grammatical and vocabulary revisions, nothing more, which I found interesting. 

I then asked it to write poems that dealt with the same themes, which it did. I'm posting the poems here. It then wrote the following: "I hope you like it! Is there anything else I can help you with?" It's clear to me that the responses it provides are very much dependent on how in-depth or superficial the questions are. I have to admit that it felt a bit strange to deal with the chatbot, but it did not scare me off. This is the new frontier, after all, and I am curious by nature. I can definitely see how these chatbots might be a useful tool, as long as one does not rely on them for creativity purposes. Regardless, as a writer, I think that the poems I wrote are subtler and better-written than the ones written by Bing, so I don't fear for the future in that regard. But of course I am being subjective. Being creative is an inner and quite personal process, as individual as the billions of people inhabiting the earth. Perhaps there will come a day when AI will be as or more creative as humans are. When that day comes, who owns the copyright to what the chatbots have written? 

1. Transience

I see with vision clearer,

The transience of life.

I am aware of life ending,

In every season and every evening.

Even the moments of the day

Fade to dusk and then into oblivion.

One separates the wheat from the chaff

And stores away those memories and thoughts

That are to be used in the making of wisdom;

Not all can be retained, possessed or hoarded.

I see with vision clearer, and then with vision darkened, 

For not even the vision remains

For more than just a moment. 

----------------------------------------

Bing's response when I asked it to write a poem based on the same themes--"Sure! Here's a poem I came up with":

Transience (Bing AI's poem) 

The fleeting moments of life,
Like sand slipping through our fingers,
Remind us of our mortality,
And how we're just mere mortals.
The memories we hold dear,
Are like precious gems in our hearts,
That we cherish and hold onto,
As we journey through life's paths.
But even these memories fade,
As time marches on relentlessly,
And we're left with nothing but echoes,
Of what once was and what could be.
So let us live in the present moment,
And make the most of every day,
For life is but a fleeting moment,
That can slip away in the blink of an eye.

----------------------------------------------------------------

2. Entropy   (my poem) 

All things, it seems

Tend to disorder

Without massive efforts

To prevent this.

In life, in love

The tendencies, the choices,

All are crossroads, forked paths--

One to order, one to entropy.

Love, it will be said, promotes order,

Elevates man's nature and his spirit.

But love destroyed is entropy defined--

Where limits cease existence; disorder thrives.

Truth is order, and a life defined thereby

Is holy and promotes the same in others.

Evil is the path to entropy, the road

Paved with choices that defy order.

```

Bing's poem based on the same themes:

The Path of Life    (Bing AI's poem) 

Life is a journey full of choices,

A path that's winding and full of voices,

That whisper in our ears and guide us along,

As we journey through life's paths.

Some paths lead to order and truth,

While others lead to chaos and ruthlessness,

And it's up to us to choose the right path,

That leads to a life of purpose and meaning.

Love is a force that can guide us along,

A beacon of light in the darkness of life,

That can help us find our way back home,

When we're lost and alone in the night.

But love can also be a force for destruction,

A raging fire that consumes everything in its path,

Leaving nothing but ashes and ruins behind,

And a heart that's broken and shattered.

So let us choose the path of life with care,

And walk with purpose and meaning every day,

For life is but a fleeting moment in time,

That can slip away in the blink of an eye.

```

Watching a magpie build its nest

We are privileged to have a birds-eye view (literally) of magpies that are building/renovating their nest, right outside our bedroom window. They are very shy birds that don't really like human company, so my filming was done from indoors. Somehow, they seem to discover that they are being filmed, but I have managed to get some footage of them. Once they find out they're being filmed, they go into their nest or fly away. They are very protective and territorial concerning their nest; we think the same magpie couple has come back each year for the past few years to raise another family. Since last year, we've had some intense storms with high winds, which damaged the nest considerably. So they've been working hard to repair and renovate it. 

Here is some video footage I got this morning:

A beautiful poem by Nicolette Sowder

I loved this poem from the first moment I read it. It has so much to say, so much that is important for all the life around us, plant, animal, and human. Yes, let us raise children this way........ 
 

An update--more generosity of spirit

I wrote a post on March 3 about generosity of spirit (A New Yorker in Oslo: Generosity of spirit (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). I had experienced that in connection with my book about growing up in Tarrytown New York--A Town and A Valley: Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley. The administrator of the Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow: We've Lived and Loved There Facebook page where a notice had been posted about my book praised the book as great and meant that I was a fabulous author. It's nice to hear that as I wrote in my post from March 3rd, because if you think a writer hears that a lot, you'd be wrong. His generosity of spirit gave me a real boost in spirit (self-confidence, motivation, perseverance). Writers need that from time to time. Heck, everyone needs a mental boost from others from time to time. We're human after all. It keeps us going.

Since that time, I've heard from other people who've bought the book; one man wrote that he 'devoured it' and that the book contained wonderful memories. I've heard from a man who works at the Warner Library in Tarrytown that the library has purchased a copy and will make it available for loan to library users. And someone associated with The Tarrytown Historical Society told me that they will buy a copy of the book. All of this is wonderful news and makes me quite happy! I've also contacted several local bookstores in Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow to hear if they will carry the book. We'll see what happens.

There is much to be grateful for in this life. I am grateful for this attention at present. I know it's likely to be my fifteen minutes of fame. I know it won't last. But it's a nice fifteen minutes. Writers don't get rich from writing books; very few do. That's not why most of them write. At least it's not why I write. But it's nice to know that something I wrote hit a nerve among folk who lived and grew up in the same town as I did. I thank them for the verbal support and for buying my book. I will pay it forward, that's for sure. 

A slippery slope

We live in a strange world now, one that promotes mediocre books, movies, music and art as very good or even excellent. The reviews are often stellar; I know because I read them. I'm always interested in what others mean or have to say. I will often watch a film or read a book because it's gotten good reviews, but it happens more often than not these days that I disagree with the reviewers, professional and non-professional. That was the case with the Oscar-winning film Everything Everywhere All at Once (I don't understand how this film won so many Oscars) and with some recent best-selling books (The Midnight Library, Euphoria, and Normal People come to mind). All of them received stellar reviews, but I was disappointed by them. My criteria for judging them to be less than stellar are the following: poor plotting, disjointed plots, disguised preachiness, banal fluff that passes for philosophical thought, lack of depth concerning the serious matters that are taken up in the film or books, and so on. That being said, there were some classic books I read when I was growing up that I didn't like or didn't make me feel good, but objectively I know that they were good books. I have read books considered to be classics, by authors who are considered to be excellent that I haven't liked--for example, some few books by Ernest Hemingway and Graham Greene. I evaluate them as mediocre because they had poor plots or rather ridiculous or superficial plotting and a failure to create engaging characters--mediocre at best. Most writers would probably agree that not everything they've published is up to snuff. How could it be? My point is that we need to be able to discuss some of these aspects when reading and writing reviews, because otherwise we can just accept that reviews have become sycophantic. Real objective discussion is rare at present. It seems as though the criteria for judging something as excellent or not have been pushed aside in favor of how one feels about the book, movie, art or politician in question. In other words, using subjective criteria for evaluations rather than objective criteria. If one likes a book, movie, piece of art, or politician because it/he or she made you feel good, I have no problem with that, but it can't end there. There have to be logical objective reasons as well for why one thinks something is excellent. But that's the slippery slope we're heading down right now. The definition of a slippery slope is a dangerous pathway or route to follow; a route that leads to trouble (Slippery slope - Idioms by The Free Dictionary). On that slippery slope, feelings alone matter, not logic or common sense. Feelings determine nearly everything, and it's easy to get fooled into thinking that something is good merely because other people feel that it is good. But it isn't. 

Nowadays we read about a classic book or film being 'cancelled' because it contained some off-color language or outmoded ideas that the woke crowd found insulting and wanted to rid the world of. One simply cannot do this. I am not in favor of cancelling books, films and pieces of art simply because they are outdated or not relevant to current societal mores and ways of doing things. One can teach students about those novels or films in reference to the age in which they were written or made, in other words, place them in their proper historical context. But we cannot rid the world of everything we don't like or pretend that it doesn't exist. We cannot cancel everything we don't like merely based on feelings. 

The potential for harmful situations exists when we abandon logic in favor of feelings alone. Basing judgments solely on feelings leads to a mob mentality, and mob mentalities never lead to anything good. In political situations, we've seen what can happen when mobs get out of control--the January 6th Capitol attack, for example. Even if it didn't start out as a planned attack, it became an attack and got out of control, no matter what Tucker Carlson says and feels. Again, Carslon knows (feels) that it was basically a sightseeing tour. He's concluded for us all and we should just accept his word. Except that I don't. His evaluation is not based on facts, but on feelings, his feelings. It's also based on his network's greed; how much they can milk this situation for all it's worth. 

So true

 

What is a soldier without a war?

All Quiet on the Western Front (All Quiet on the Western Front (2022) - IMDb) won an Oscar for Best International Feature Film last night, among other awards. The film, directed by German director Edward Berger, is about a group of young German soldiers whose experiences of the brutality and hopelessness of war during WWI contrast with their initial eagerness toward going to war to valiantly fight the French on the western front for the honor of Germany. The film is based on the book by Erich Maria Remarque, who described the horror and suffering of war as a German veteran of World War I. The book has been adapted into film several times--in 1930, in 1979, and in 2022. I have not seen the other films, but if they are anything like Berger's film, they are probably quite harrowing to watch. 

It would be hard to say that I liked the film; films about war are too distressing because you know there will be bloodshed and death. Berger's film has plenty of both. There really is no plot other than that young men go to war, have their idealistic expectations of valiance dashed, fight to survive on a daily basis, and learn to deal with the brutality and trauma of watching their comrades maimed and killed. There is no time to process death or the intense emotions surrounding it. There is no time for humanity. There is no humanity in the trenches. Tanks roll over them, crushing soldiers and collapsing the trenches. Bayonets do the job that shootings do not. Grenades likewise. Berger does not spare his audience. But no filmmaker does when he or she makes a film about war. 1917 (from 2019) was another example of a brutal war film. 

Berger is clearly not pro-war. He presents the pointlessness of much of what goes on, and the arbitrariness of some decisions. When a ceasefire is signed, one of the German commanders whose entire life has revolved around fighting and war, sends his troops into battle fifteen minutes before the ceasefire is to take effect. His arrogant decision results in fatal consequences for the main characters. This commander asks the question--what is a soldier without a war? He is really talking about himself, about how he will have no identity if the war ends. But he is not the one fighting it, he is not the one in the trenches on the western front--his soldiers are, and they are dying like flies. Dead bodies are scattered on the battlefield and one soldier is assigned to go around and collect the dog tags after battle. After all, families must be informed that their heroic sons died serving Germany's interests. 

There is very little that is heroic about war, that much we know at this point in time. Most of us would agree that we should avoid war at all costs. The importance of diplomacy cannot be underestimated. But what happens when one of the warring parties does not want peace? What happens when that person is blinded by wanting to win, wanting to be the victor? That person will send his soldiers into battle with no thought of the consequences for them. They are just pawns on his chess board. That's the way it's been for centuries. And therein lies the problem. What do we do when one country invades another? What do we do when no amount of diplomacy helps, when no amount of diplomacy stops an aggressor? It's depressing to admit, but the world will always have wars as long as dictators and tyrants exist. Invaded countries have the right to defend themselves. Imagine if the USA had not gotten involved in WWII. What would the layout of Europe have looked like then?

It's staggering to read the death statistics of WWI and WWII. In WWI there were 10 million military dead and 7 million civilian deaths; in WWII over 60 million people died (World War I vs World War II - Difference and Comparison | Diffen). My husband and I visited Normandy and the D-Day beaches in the summer of 2016 (A New Yorker in Oslo: Visit to Normandy (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). What I remember most about the beaches was that the sand was reddish in color. A reminder of the bloodshed on those beaches. It made me think about all the men who lost their lives there, far from home. It was overwhelming emotionally to be there, but I'm glad I was there. Because it crystallizes the history--it makes it real. There is nothing glamorous about war. Blessed are the peacemakers indeed. There is a special place in hell (if it exists) for the invaders, the aggressors, the dictators, and the tyrants--all those who drag the rest of the world into war. May they suffer there forever. 

"It's not that I have something to hide.....I have nothing I want you to see."

Anon is a futuristic dystopic sci-fi film from 2018 (Anon (2018) - IMDb) where everyone has a digital signature that is available at all times on society's augmented reality grid. Individuals are tracked every minute of the day, every day, on government orders, rendering privacy and anonymity non-existent. The tracking is essentially done by others around you, and is accomplished via ocular implants that record everything individuals see in order to provide augmented-reality displays to them and others.  In other words, the implants overlay this recorded information onto real-life situations almost immediately. If you see a person on the street, the overlays let you see all the digital information that exists about that person because all that information from everyone's ocular implants has been uploaded to the grid. It's almost like having a search engine in your brain. This makes policemen's jobs easier, because they pretty much already know who the criminal is immediately after a crime has been committed or while it is being committed. Policemen can tap into the scene of the crime using coordinates and gather the information that is needed; in principle they don't even need to be present. In practice, they visit crime sites in order to gather forensic clues that confirm their case against perpetrators. 

But there is a person who is not on the digital grid, a tech-savvy young woman (The Girl/Anon, played by Amanda Seyfried) whose analog life makes her invisible to anyone looking for her. It turns out that she has cleverly disguised herself in the system using algorithms that 'disseminate' information about her. It is impossible to gather a complete picture of her or to get complete information about her. Those who pass her in the street register her presence but get no information about her. She is a glitch in the system, and that makes the detective (Sal Frieland, played by Clive Owen) who is working on a series of inexplicable serial murders, curious. The murders are committed from the murderer's perspective, not the victim's, and the victims' views don't provide any information about the killer. He passes The Girl one day on the street, and when he cannot retrieve information about her, it occurs to him that she may be the murderer for whom he is looking. I won't divulge the plot or provide any spoilers, since I thought the film was a pretty good (albeit a little confusing) sci-fi film. 

But at one point toward the end of the film, The Girl says to Sal, "It's not that I have something to hide.....I have nothing I want you to see." Think about that for a second. She wants privacy for privacy's sake. She wants to be anonymous to the system. She is not doing anything criminal, she just wants her life to remain untracked, to remain outside the digital universe. She wants to be free, to say and do things without worrying that she is being tracked and recorded at all times. Although this is a futuristic sci-fi film, it made me realize how far we have come toward creating this exact society, where all of us are digitally connected at all times. We do not lead anonymous lives, nor is there that much privacy left. For example, our cell phone use provides information about our whereabouts at all times as long as we have our phones with us and turned on, which most of us do. The Alexa devices in our homes listen to everything we say and record our conversations, unless we turn off the recording function (The creepy reason why you don't want to put Alexa in your bedroom | Fox News) and Amazon’s Alexa Never Stops Listening to You | Wirecutter (nytimes.com). If you ask me, the society of Anon has already arrived. It's just that our governments have not mandated that we be on the grid if we don't want to. But we already do most of our banking online, the use of paper money has declined drastically, likewise the writing of actual paper letters. We can order food, clothing, concert tickets, and plane tickets online and never have to leave our homes if we don't want to except to attend the actual events or take the actual trips. But if the day comes when governments mandate having a digital signature, freedom as we know it will disappear forever. But rest assured, some few tech-savvy people will find ways around the system. It would be the height of irony if we begin to pay large sums of money to such people in order to return us to an analog society. We may find that an analog society is preferable if the digital one we live in imprisons us by forcing us to have our digital signature available at all times. 

A daily reminder

 

News reporting and bottom feeders

I don't need a dose of daily news from any source. I can live my life fine without it. But it's impossible to escape the news. Wherever you turn, you are inundated with news from newspapers, tv, and social media, all ready and willing to keep you updated (and get you hooked). Even with the minimal amount of exposure to world news that I allow myself, I remain updated on what is going on. I'm part of the world around me after all. But I've learned to limit my intake of news; I had to, because otherwise it's overwhelmingly depressing to be inundated by it. And being depressed about the state of the world does nothing to help the problems in the world. 

I'm not even sure we can solve the problems in the world; there are too many. I think it's enough that we do our little part each day to be good people, to be kind and generous, to help others when they need help, to guide children in the best possible way, to create a future for them that is better than the present. To do unto others as we would have them do unto us. It really just comes down to that. My parents were good people who lived their lives in a simple, honest and unaffected way. They raised a family and did a good job. They were good citizens who loved their country despite its flaws. All countries have flaws. Our parents could not foresee the world we live in currently, but their good values and ethics were and are timeless, relevant in any generation. 

Those who produce and provide the news for us are like dogs with a bone. They get a hold of a news story and literally worry it to death. They hash and rehash it ad nauseam. If you hear it once, you hear it a hundred times a day if you are so inclined. I am not. The constant presentation of the same news story amounts to a kind of brainwashing in my book. I am not interested in being brainwashed. There has to be a less insane way of dealing with the world. It boggles the mind that people like Tucker Carlson are allowed to lead news programs, insisting that what they report is true when they have verbalized the opposite privately. I think of his insistence that Trump was cheated out of the presidency and his defense of Trump as the victim of election fraud when Carlson knew it was patently untrue. I hope his news channel has to pay out bigtime to Dominion Voting Systems (their $1.6 billion defamation lawsuit against Fox News). I have no use for these kinds of people. Bottom feeders. There seem to be so many bottom feeders now in the world, who have given in and given up their good values and ethics (did they ever have them). And we wonder why the world is in the mess it's in. 

Shoot the moon - Nederlands Dans Theater - Sol León & Paul Lightfoot

Another favorite--Shoot the Moon--by the NDT

Silent Screen - Sol León & Paul Lightfoot (NDT 1 | Scenic Route)

One of my favorite modern dance creations from my favorite modern dance company--the Netherlands Dance Theater (NDT). I was reminded of it tonight when I was at the Opera (Operaen.no) to see three different dance pieces--one classical ballet--Divertimento No.15--choreographed by George Balanchine, the other two experimental modern dance pieces--27' 52'' and Some Girls Don't Turn--choreographed by Jiri Kylian and Emma Portner respectively (Portner/Kylian/Balanchine - at Oslo Opera House (operaen.no). I enjoyed all three, but when it comes to experimental modern dance, my taste runs more toward NDT. 

A book recommendation for my Norwegian readers

I just purchased the following book recently, as I was looking for a book that described the bridges over the Akerselva river (my second favorite river after the Hudson River). As luck would have it, a couple of Sundays ago my husband and I stopped to drink coffee at Hønsa Lovisas cafe, and while we were waiting to be served, we took a look at the books on the small bookstand near the entrance. Akerselvas Bruer og Fosser (Akerselva's Bridges and Waterfalls) by Kjell Egil Sterten was one of them. I'm happy to support anything to do with local history, be it in Tarrytown NY where I grew up, or in Oslo where I live now. The author is a local historian and lecturer who clearly loves Oslo. You can buy it from different online bookstores; here are the links: 

Akerselvas bruer og fosser by Sterten, Kjell Egil. 9788230333198. Innbundet - 2016 | Haugenbok

Akerselvas bruer og fosser | Kjell Egil Sterten | ARK Bokhandel

The Gifts of a Garden

A Town and A Valley: Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley