I'm leaving davis on the train tommorrow night for eugene.
california was nice because I could do anything I wanted
and make anything happen
because thats what people do in california.
I found harbin hotsprings, where I'd like to spend some time
working and relaxing
The workshops at the Delta of Venus got coverage in the campus paper:
I was an illustrator and a photographer and a stone mason stepbuilder
and I met tons of people and did tons of things and where else could I do that
but california. everything in california is tons. California is tons of food and tons of money. california is tons of information and tons of energy.
California is just big, lots, tons, huge, plenty, more, apt, and then sum.
Seems like everyone else is just begining and california's already done.
But it'll be nice to get out of this place and leave this time. You can't do anything small in california.
Some times a body's got to get real small.
I'm leaving davis on the train tommorrow night for eugene.
starting in november, I will be running workshops everyother wednesday at the Delta of Venus cafe, 122 B st in Davis, Ca. The crafty art craft skill shops will be held at 4 o'clock, and of course, will be free.
The first week will be photocopy transfers, teaching you how to print a photocopy onto any surface.
The next skillshop we will be teaching the printing stage of silk screen printing.
the final wednesday in november will be a bookbinding workshop.
Currently I am finding skillshops for the other two wednesdays in the month.
I made it down the coast just fine. no time. (means no mass)
now I'm in Davis, on a scavenger hunt.
I use my bike to commute around the area.
last weekend it was up to the full belly farm for hoes down
an organic farming harvest festival
so joe craven play, of the grismond group.
the reason I went was to meet up with david kupfer, who invited me at the burn
after I set up my shelter, I discovered I was camping right next to him
out of 3000 people, that's a little crazy. no such thing as a coincidence.
when I got to davis, I followed my nose into the espresso roma
two things occured:
I was given a sticker for daviswiki.org
and I saw a poster for a free jason webeley show at the Delta of Venus
on the wiki, I found out about the bike church and the domes
i went to the delta and saw a poster for a party at the domes
i went looking for the bike church and the domes
I found both in the same place and was invited to the party
I left for a volunteer training at the craft center
where I will be able to weld, use the glass torches, sew, work in the wood shop
develop photos, silk screen and throw pottery.
I came back to the domes and met many great people at the party
everyone dressed in white, playing croquet and drinking gin and tonics
fire spinning till late in the night
then on to the harvest festival
I rode out with five guys who had taken a train over from berkeley
with thier various bikes.
they showed me how to bike from davis to the bay along several routes
when we stopped for lunch
and told me resources for my book
the book on bike touring
on a budget
sustainably, a guide, a diy, a tool for empowerment
then the harvest festival, I ran into many of my friends from the domes
and talked to david about writing, among other things
he's writing a guide to sustainability for teenagers
been working on it for a while now and wants me to read over his outline
this is good, it means I can help him with his work
and he wants to help with my book.
the next morning at the big breakfast I was invited to raft cache creek
cause someone dropped out
I showed up at the put in and they gave me an inflatable kayak to float in
I felt a bit like when Jack and I were driving the big rig to the burn
no money, no power except optimism, and here I was
floating up side streams and through the sunny afternoon.
Like driving that six speed diesel down the highway, but different.
Off the river I started lending a hand again with clean-up.
the people that were left were all very close, but very open
and good to talk to.
I hitched a ride with my bike into town that night with one of them.
the next afternoon I was back at the delta of venus
hanging out and sipping coffee
talking with Justin, one of the domers
he called his mom and put me on the phone
she is working on a mural, tile mosaic
on the UCSF campus
and wants help, has a place I can stay.
I'm biking over to the bay for the first time friday morning
to meet up with Pyrs at the Synergy co-op
and to check out Andy's farm, Hidden Villa
and to go to the Burn decompression street fair sunday
then its back to Davis monday for a craft center safety review
and again tuesday
then the bay? maybe, but I have to be in Davis every thurs
for work at the craft center.
I still need to find a good time to hop on the bike and go the other direction
out to horton's farm where coy is living, outside Sacramento
and I plan a break to go up to shasta city and work for a week.
Need to print some of the photos from my trip
and today's project is to bind the outline of the book
into a journal, with marked sections and lots of blank pages
for each section, so I can travel on my bike
with an organized journal for taking notes
and documenting stories
and recording the tricks and tactics that make this possible.
Journal full, time to write.
I'm taking ten days to bike the coast from florence to SF, leaving today.
click on the photo to check out the trash on bikes photos on my photostream.
Kyle, Jack, Ryan and I bikes near a thousand miles from eugene, or to helena, mt. took us 13 days becuase we wanted it to.
hitting the road at seven for two weeks on a bike.
from eugene to helena.
Kyle Jack Ryan and I
just got back from the Oregon Country fair, working the Holy Cow food booth six hours a day. I was in the company of amazing people with incredible skills all weekend, so I'm still a little buzzed from it as I pack up my house. I'm moving out of the house at 990 w 10th this week and getting ready to bike back to Montana. a few of my things are going to MT in several cars that on already passing through Eugene, my studio and tools are moving in with Jack and Kyle next year, as are my instruments, and whatever else I have that won't fit on a bike is going to a new owner.
Unless life gets in the way, I'll be traveling for the next year, making short stops here and there, but keeping my option very open. I'll have my bike and whatever I can carry on it, and I'll be exploring wherever it can take me. I'd like to look at some intentional, sustainable communities and see how they work and what they do, I'd like to check out artist co-ops and communities to see how they develop their own economies, and I'd like to look at master's level art and design programs of all types. If I can get on a boat and travel to a different continent, I might do that. I'm pretty much open to anything for the next while.
I have some student loans to pay off in the near future, so I'll probably end up working somewhere and learning a trade of some type to pay the loans off, then I'll most likely be on the road again. Woohoo.
right now, my house is a mess, and I'm sorting through four years of accumulation. It's a little depressing, but also liberating, so as long as I can keep the two in balance...
crocheting workshop using colored telephone wire to make sushi mats. Led by Pat Shaughnessy.
Sushi making led by Maureen Shaughnessy. Keep your eyes out for copies of the illustrated guide to making your own maki roll.
these unsuspecting youth have been unknowingly exposed to a gift economy. More photos from A Harbingerous Happening on my photostream at flickr.
Originally uploaded by skuz.
A Harbingerous Happening
with The Gifting Machine, a senior thesis show by Gabriel Shaughnessy
a BFA Terminal Project, paintings by Kelsey Strauch
spoken word, bubble booth and/or improvisational music, locally produced films, sushi making and other hands-on workshops, and poi spinning after dark.
crazy day of rain today,
like the ones we used to have in january
little late this year
I just got back from the second river trip, the Rogue River Clean-up. It was a four day trip down the wild and scenic stretch of the rogue sponsored by the University of Oregon Outdoor Program. We picked up 17 tires (a paltry handful compared to other years) and a whole bunch of garbage that floats down from Medford and Grants pass.
All told, I've been on the river eight of the last fourteen days and I have to say I'm not really missing "reality" much.
If you get a chance, check out the videos posted on Cascadia Rising about the Biscuit Fire Direct Actions. Currently, the courts are deciding whether or not the logging in the wilderness areas is legal, but while they take their time making up their minds, the logging continues. In response, many locals have blockaded the bridges and restricted access to the timber sales.
this is my friend trip jennings, who spearheaded this voyage. He and Kyle Dickman are working on the documentary as an independent study this term. It will be released in early June and will be made available to those wishing to hold a public screening. To see his other work, check out the epicocity project.
sam mackie hitting a drop in the inflateable kayak. believe it or not, he stayed in that thing.
just got back from three days on the illinois river in southern oregon. We were working on a documentary on the Biscuit Fire and the logging that has been initiated in our roadless wilderness. We used the river as a means to access an area that is otherwise only accessible by helicopter. 19 of us made the trip down thirty miles of raging water, including a U of O professor and the director of the cascadia wildlands project. We spent the days alternating between class 3 and 4 rapids and lessons in fire ecology, looking at matrix burn patterns, wilderness recovery, and talking about logging practices and their effect on the ecosystem.
this here is where the machine is located
you can find it in the third floor of the emu
on the u of o campus
in the skylight area
thems the rules for this here machine, best be obeying them, ya hear me?
yeah, the machine has been up three days now, with a lot of learning involved. I'm working on the balance between telling people what to do and letting them figure it out for themselves, but I'm finding that most people approach the machine more as an art object and less as a machine that is meant to be used. Some people grab the handle to turn the crank, but let go when they feel the built-in resistance (designed to keep the handle from moving backwards and to give a sense of completion upon one full turn), they let go.
I arrived tuesday at noon to re-stock the machine (yes, most people just take), and it was gone. This was particularily shitty because I had plans to meet with two professors later in the day at the machine. No machine, not much to talk about. So I tracked down Dana, the facilities manager, and sure enough, the janitor had put it in storage due to some miscommunication. We hauled it back out there, straightened everything out, and now it is in for good. I met with both my profs that day, and they had really good insight for me.
After yesterday, these are some changes I plan to make this weekend:
add packaging to the deal, small brown bags printed in the letterpress lab to read "gift", and "please leave this bag with the machine" on the inside tab. these will help people understand that there are two sides to the equation, which I think most people are missing right now. It will alos bring emphasis to my appreciation of what it means to participate in a gift economy, and hopefully make people think about that a little bit.
I also plan on sanding off the current instructions, which are very ambiguous and a little too open ended (maybe I gave people a little too much credit). I plan to print a more detailed card which I will fasten to the face of the machine. I think the combination of these two things will make people's interactions with the machine a little more educational and help facilitate my ideas a little better. One more idea that might help things out is to put LED's inside the opening to create a glow coming out of the hole. I noticed that on the two adjacent pepsi machines, one has a broken light and the other puts off a nice glow. people always use the one that is lit up, even though the other one works just fine. hmmmm...
it goes in the EMU skylight area, next to the two pepsi machines. It will migrate on a random schedule between there and the north east entrance to the building where it will occupy the space between two phone card vending machines. It'll be there a while.
I'm stocking the machine for its first time out with:
two cigarettes at the end of someone's almost finished pack,
a box of matches
and some kopal
I'll be keeping the exchanges posted.
Jack and I are heading out tomorrow for the coast by bike. test run number one. we'll spend the night and come back the next day.
Here is a quote that represents one of Ward Churchill's primary stances. They don't put quotes like this in the mass media.
"The great bulk of my scholarly work has been devoted to documenting the United States' disregard for law and the resulting violence it has perpetrated both domestically and internationally. I believe that such practices inevitably breed violence in response, and that the most effective way to ensure the security of all peoples is adherence to the Constitution and international law, particularly the laws of war and fundamental human rights law."
This is from "Who's the Terrorist", and is version of which was given at the Bay Area Anarchist Bookfair.
back up and out, find new music and make it too.
we got the who-man funk society laying down grooves.
I'll post em soon.
as well as the photos, videos, music and everything else that goes
with ten days of travel.
here is an adventure for your picking:
eugene, packed up, got a ride to edge of town
1 ride with les to noti
and a ride with wes to walton
and a ride with spider and liz to florence, south jetty, hike into the dunes
no rain, just sun, hiking through the trees, finding a bed
of pine needles
and pine cones covered in lichen
hike into the dunes
two stories high sound of frogs chirping if you walk amongst them
and hold perfectly still
for five minutes
they begin to chirp down the line
first far away, then sweeping towards you
until they engulf you, all around you, below you
but you can't see them
and dinner of cooscoos, beans, onions, tortillas
cooked in our open air shelter
it rains at night, we stay warm and dry
hike out of dunes
ride with teo to north bend
hike through north bend
through coos bay
stop for coffee in north bend, no other stops
until we're south of coos bay
a run down, industrial coast town
that voted bush but shouldn't have voted at all
should have just done it
they'd be better off
no ride, needless tosay
still no ride, its dark and raining hard
so we hike into town, to the lazy j
a motel that burnt out a while ago
and has since been stripped of everything of value
with only one small mamageers apartment left unburnt
we find a room, with boarded up windows so we can turn on the light
cook up falafel and hummus, tortillas
chill out and play the guitar in our dry motel room that didn't cost a cent
only some common sense
if you want bread, ask for it
if they won't give you bread,
the next morning, got some coffee and a donut
and fresh outlook on life
coos bay sucks
two hours later
we get a ride in the back of a pickup
jack rides up front
dropped off at the side of the road south of bandon
we are getting dumped on, but we have good rain gear
cept jack didn't pack rain pants
woman pulls over
three seconds into the ride
she has medical and wants to share
fifteen miles later, port oroford, battle rock
we are deployed
into a tempest
60-80 mph winds
move, move, move, get to shelter
we are good at this
and we stay dry
fifteen minutes later we are back at the hitching game
hoping the sympathy factor will weigh in
we decide to hike the eight miles up the road
to camp in a costal rain storm
and as we shoulder our packs
a car pulls up
tiny lady from New York
first time onthe west coast
how are people this good?
we drive with her to Ashland, but in crescent city
are forced to decide, continue south or go to ashland
south equals redwoods
coast is slow going though
ashland equals i-5 and quick, maybe our only
access to Davis, the big CA, the great valley, SF and everywhere else
coast means redwoods
we go to ashland last minute because my phone doesn't have service
and I can't reach mickey to ask him
yeah, a fork in the road
in ashland, we find a hostel
dry room, washer, drier, bed, kitchen, dinner of wicked burritos
hike through town, drink a beer in the park and take photos at night
next morning, hike out of the hostel towards edge of town
a long long way
jodie and casey drive by in their red VW bus
they drive right past
holy shit, some friends we have
they come back
they are going back to eugene
too much rain
and they have a van
they drop us off at the south i-5 exit in A-town
a man who believes he is moses
with out a great nation
is going to shasta
read mount sianai
and trying to hitch a ride
he gives us an earful
explains why jesus is lord
and our morals are declining
doesn't believe in free speech
and doesn't like hip-hop
but speaks his mind
and doesn't get a ride
I bet they could tell
they'd get an earful
We wait and wait and wait get lots of empty cars with CA plates
nothing but smiles and waves
but an a-town man is southern bound
and he teaches drama in the highschools
and is going all the way to SF to visit his wife
we pile in, talk the tempest
and prosperos lot
when every chance he has to use his power
instead he sets people free
and forgives the greatest misdeeds
we pass mt shasta long before moses even gets a ride
and there is no such thing as a great nation, sorry 'god'
read father, only father, and four thousand years of wars
but I think you might have been wrong
and he drops us off on the UC Davis campus
we walk four blocks on auto pilot
right to 400 atriums way apt. 420
we leave our bags and walk out
light on our feet
past the co-ops, into there gardens, meet eric
and get an invite to a potluck
we go to find food to bring
it is located in an empty meeting room several hours
after a catered event
damn fine breadsticks, and a whole shit ton of them
we return to co-ops, meet many good people
and eat a good meal
then mickey calls and we head to his place
the next day we explore the Davis, Coy visits
brings Home Work with him
the sequal to shelter
holy shit is it cool
also returns my glowing hack, fixed and better than new
I don't know where coy came from (well, actuall, the big CA)
but holy shit, I think he could be
and he is buying his ticket for the burn next week
worried that there is no room for his bus
we reassure him, there is no space limit on the playa
and his bus is coming
we talk about the camp
he wants to broadcast radio
pirate media theme
zine production, book binding, film screenings, radio station
oh yeah, and donuts and coffee
the next day we go dumpster diving
find reject papers from the davis paper
and we meet spoon
who went to highschool with us
but we didn't know her until we met on the street
in Davis, CA
Mickey finishes his final
we go out to a party with his physics friends
we dig the times
walk home through an endlesss field
run through the mud and leave tracks forever
no frogs here
the great valley
the next day we check out the craft center, the physics building
learn that gravity and acceleration are impossible to distinguish
in an elevator at least
unless the theory of general relativity applies
the next day we sit around and play video games
ahhhhh, spring break
then its off to SF at sunset
Jenny takes us all to her rents house and the sunset
over the bay and the bridge
we leave berkely on the bart, down to SF
we won;t fit on the cable car so we walk
for blocks and blocks
to the warf, past the maritime museum, past ghiradelli
to fort mason
the hostel jack recommends
its big, expensive, but we're sick of walking
free breackfast too
we cook a wicked dinner of falafel, hummus, asparagus
then walk to the golden gate bridge in the evening
this town is dead at night
and damn are these expensive looking houses
we are exhausted
we make it to the palace of fine arts
play my guitar in the dome
the next morning we meet jenny and mickey in the afternoon
at the SF art institute
nice place on lombard
but ritzy neighborhood, ritzy school
not my thing, but damn cool
we are treated to a 1930 diego mural
the building of a city
and access to a collection of student hand made books
pretty damn sweet
then out the door, across town, down town
$6 bbut jack sneaks in
and we see all the works from class
johns, rauchenburg, oldenburg, judd, hess, gonzalez, bechel
and some new, unexpected and brilliant
mickey says they look miserable
I have to agree
if you don;t know where they are coming from
a museum is no more art than
the smithsonian is science
just a fancy display case
the real thing is much better
the museum is the pornography of the art world
and the gallery is the brothel
the street with the people and the air and the action
and the breath
and the reality, the access, the universal, stripping of hierarchy
is the tantric ecstasy of a lover
be here now
and then we get to berkely
meet Jenny's parents at the pyramid brewery
and have a good beer or two or three and fine food
holy shit, I can't believe these people exist
I was always told that strangers are dangerous, distrusting and best avoided
these ones fed us and gave us spirits
to hit the bart, head back to downtown SF
where dave is waiting with a ride into the sunset
we drop off our bags and then the car
its a long walk back to our bags
but we fill it by climbing trees, running through the neighborhood
staring at powerlines
and we don;t see anyone the entire time
not a single person
I can't believe this town
we check out Saint Ignacius College Prep
these children are definitely not left behind
they have a huge cross and a sphinx watching out over them
the next day is saturday
and the SF bay area anarchist bookfair in golden gate park
we get b-fast and walk down there
thanks for the meal mick
and the fair is bustling
lots of crusty punks
and little old ladies reading fighting for our lives
we meet Ward Churchhill
a castle of a man, a fighter
with a deep voice and dark sunglasses
bill oriely ought to watch the fuck out
I wouldn;t want to be on Ward's shit list
and John Zerzan, the older guy with short grey hair, a thin build
a well-kept beard
who eats at sweet life all the time
with cute old ladies
who knew they were talking the ends of the world
I introduce myself as the roommate
of the guy who serves you coffee
and a fellow enjoyer of the sweet life
and to Ward
I'm sorry the university cancled your speech
another hint that maybe this is just the upper class
rat race pit stop
he wasn;t surprised
and wouldn;t deliver the smae speecha s the one he
gave in golden gate
holy shit is he a good speaker
spoke of the law, and our need to enforce it
pretty brave to give to a bunch of anarchists
says its a crime that we are given tickets for running red lights
possession of less than an eigth
not wearing a seatbelt
riding a bike without a light
when the federal government openly defies
laws that the whole world got together and agreed upon
like no pre-emptive strikes
or production of nuclear arms
or distributing weapons to third world countries
our fueling civil wars by providing the technology to dictators
or drug trafficking
or making biological weapons of mass destruction
read blankets of small pox, genocide
and nobody is arresting them/us
which laws do you think we should prioritize?
and at the end, we find a ride
the next day we will meet Joanna in Richmond
she'll pick us up at the bart and we'll help her drive
her pick-up back to Eugene
and pay some for gas
and damn ain't that fine
so that night we walk back to the sunset
stop for sushi
because we been walking for hours and we're famished
we see the menu number one
three dollar maki
we order from menu two
and order nine rolls
these don't look like no three dollar rolls
but we feast
the check comes
we accidently ate sixty bucks worth of sushi
we spend as much as we spent on a nights lodging
and it is well worth it
accidents happen and they make our lives
and then on to sunset
we hit the sack
and in the morning we're up and out
to the l-line
to city center
to the bart
transfer at 12th ave in oakland
walk to campus
anarchist conference, forums
we attend one, I speak up and feel good about it
we break into the berkely art dept through and open window on the second story
jack runs down and lets us in the door
we wander the halls
scope the program
not too inspiring
kelsey says the people matter most
but these facilities suck
out the door, back to hang out with the anarchists
fun people because they just do it
and we meet dave again
damn, this guy is rad
goes to the oregon country fair, works the spoken word stage
right by the front entrance
and sells water cress in berkely for 11 bucks a pound
drinks some english ale that is damn fine
tells many a story in one long breath that never stops
we are late, gotta split, but hey
first share this spliff
and take a pic
we run to the bart
transfer one time
its fine, she can't find
the bart station anyways
when we arrive in richmond
the rain is pooring down
and she is in a minivan with her eighty year old parents
joanna, you told us you were giving a ride
to three good little jewish boys
and her parents are great, they feed us a feast
and send us on our way
in the ford ranger
the trip back is chill
joanna rides in the back seat
of the extended cab
works her way through four beers and gives jack and I the other two
jack rides in back and sleeps, thinks, chills
Joanna drives first, then cracks a beer and lets aaron take over
he pulls a long shift
we pull into grants pass
don fills the vehicle with gas
and then offers us a smoke of his medical
this old hippie found a loophole
and he's milking the shit out of it
wow, I love grants pass
my turn to drive
I make it to roseburg
where we decide to make jack ride up front
for the last leg
I make him drive
we can;t believe we are approaching eugene
and we're in eugene
its early in the morning/late at night
we pull up to the casa
and brent welcomes us home
to a trashed house
and damn life is fine
generally seems to be an area of controlled circumstance
and predetermined variables
get a lot done? yeah
have a lot of fun? yeah
and a journey uncomparable
because we set course with the guidance of chance
we're leaving Davis today, things got pretty slow here and we're ready to split. We had a chance to make a few books in the downtime, veg out and sleep in (much needed part of spring break) and now we're heading to SF for the next couple of days. We were planning on taking a train home Saturday night but they're all full up. Looks like we'll be thumbing it again. Oh well, its worked so far. See what happens when you try to make plans?
I'm here in Davis with Mickey now, we made it in yesterday through some brutal rain in northern cali. We got lucky and got a ride all the way from Ashland down to UC Davis from a highschool drama teacher on his way to SF. We showed up at Mickey's door and he was not here, and much to my surprise, it was locked. We put our bags by the door and headed out to explore. We found a garden with a sign advertising free vege dinners at the co-ops, come on in, so we did and Eric met us in the garden and told us the co-ops would be doing a potluck in about fourtyfive. We walked to the Memorial Union and found a closed down catered event with a shitton of leftover bradsticks that we brought back with us to the potluck. Good people at the co-op serving good foods up and engaging conversation, before we know it, Mick is calling to say he's home and found his phone. Good to see him again. Now its the next day and the sun was shining for all of a little bit, but now its cloudy again and we are going to hit the town. We made plans to catch a train north on saturday, but oops, we made plans and guess what, the train is booked full. So we learn. Go with the flow, we are now open to anything.
tommorrow we leave for Cali, starting out we are headed to Arcata, then meeting up with my brother in Davis, then on to SF. We'll be thumbing it the whole way, three of us. I'll try to get a post or two in from the road.
this is the face plate before it is welded to the front of the machine, sealing the deal. There is a side door that I can access with a key (an old tool box door that I found), so I can still get in the thing to fix stuff/restock it in a hurry/check on what is in there at any given time without taking anything out.
The top hole is for putting things in. I am considering labeling it with the word put. I thought about give, but I think that word has too many soft connotations that people tend, in our consumer culture, to assosciate with free things. Put implies, to me, more of an action unconnected with any philosophy. Thoughts on this?
The bottom hole is where objects fall down the tray to. There is a handle and a hinge, so the door can swing open and shut. I think I will label this one get. I think take is in the same boat as give, it implies a pre-established relationship that is commonly seen as an opportunity to exploit in our culture. I don't want to encourage people to exploit the machine (you don't have to put to get), but I want them to have as open a relationship to it as possible. thoughts on this?
the pin on the rod going across the top is turned by the bicycle crank on the side. The pin hits the tabs on the wheel, turning the larger fan wheel below. Objects placed on the tray are spun through the machine, one turn on the crank transfers to 60 degrees of change in the large fan wheel. Five turns and the object on the tray makes it around to the hole in the back and drops down the ramp.
Martin Luther King Jr. tells us, "human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted".
this is from my friend Kira, not my words, hers (and they're damn fine):
I wanted to post to your blog, but alas, I'm blocked for my bloggerless state. On the thread of critical mass,
We need this. I'm tired of my Dad getting hit by hypocrite vegan automobilists on his daily bikeride to work. My brother just got creamed by a car biking on Capitol Hill, Seattle. My friend Evan Burke died this weekend when he was hit by a taxi on his longboard. As if that wasn't an outrage enough, the Ashland Daily Tidings was quick to point out that HE hit the moving car (not the other way around), while possibly drunk/high (speculation), while not wearing a "required helmet", or sporting a front light and rear reflector on his deck.
The reporting officer's take was something along the lines of, "well, it's a tragedy, but at least it brings to light the precautions that skateboarders must take." Are you serious? Evan was travelling UPHILL (and hills in A-town are steep) when he was hit (or hit the car, according to the ADT). F=ma, and the force of a skateboard operated by a 150-lb 21 year old, travelling uphill, doesn't equal a deadly accident. However, the force of a taxi, even at low speed, certainly does.
I'm not discounting the effectiveness/necessity of helmets, or headlamps, or reflectors. But not only was NO MENTION made of the dangerousness of vehicles, the article specifically pointed out that the driver was "not to blame."
Evan was one less goddamn car on the road - and he paid for it. The revolution will not be motorized, okay, but it's one hell of a dangerous jungle out there for pedestrians, bicyclists and boarders - unfairly so. We're less than 10% of the population of America, can you believe it? Aren't auto-accidents the leading cause of death? And America's need for cars just leads to oil wars - more lives taken. Throw in sleepy motorists mowing down the alternatively-powered crowd and goddamn -
don't give me some bullshit about how a rear reflector and a headlamp could have fixed all of this.
Sorry, had to vent somewhere that might understand. Maybe you could digest/post for me - cool. Hey...be careful.
I'm not kidding. Broccoli for life. Last night, on the way home I found about fifteen pounds of broccoli. Took it home and washed it, put it in a garbage bag in the freezer. Steamed a bit up to go with some rice too. Anybody got any good broccoli recipes?
CU's president just resigned over two issues, (NY Times Article) one her football team uses pot, booze and sex to recruit other members, and the other, an outspoken activist professor on her campus compared victims of sept. 11th to Adolph Eicmann, the Nazi leader who created the systematic methods of exterminating jews in the Holocaust.
Personally, I don't see what the problem is. I haven't found a college football team yet that is succsessful and isn't mired in scandal. You give anyone that much money and fame and what do you think they're going to spend it on? So far nine women have filed complaints against members of the football team. If you ask me, CU needs to rethink whether it wants to continue having a football team. You get a bunch of guys to run around smacking the shit out of eachother, you're going to see the academic climate on campus deteriorate, to say the least.
And secondly, more importantly, what the hell is going on with Ward Churchilll? Doesn't CU see that he is one of the best things they have going for them? He's an outspoken, intelligent, internationallly recognized native american activist. The general take is you don't compare victims of a crime to Nazis, that's wrong. Bull shit. The victims of the September 11th l worked in the world trade center (most of them), a cluster of organizations that Churchill has written are tied to systems of modern day genocide, systematically depraving third world countries and chasing the buck as the almighty measure of worth, the ultimate cost-benefit analysis. Firing Churchill for making this obvious comparison would be like firing Oppenheim for suggesting that it might not have been a good idea to make the atomic bomb. A University, like the Manhatten project, without critical minds constantly questioning becomes a breeding ground for oppression. In the case of The Manhatten project, when none of the scientists spoke their concerns, they made a two bombs for the US government under the premise that the bombs would be used to defeat the Nazis. But when the Nazis were defeated and the Government told the scientists to keep working, none of the scientists said anything or questioned their motivations.
At a university, when a professor suggests that American culture harms the rest of the world, it should be brought onto the table and discussed, but instead, our reaction is to express disgust and outrage, remove any element of inquiry, and immediately stiffle the outspoken. Universities have become nothing more than job training programs, where little rats grow up to become big rats, running on a wheel that fires the kiln that burns the bodies we generate in our holocaust.
we had a great critical mass on friday, rode all over town for about an hour before the cops told us we were going to be charged with disorderly conduct if we didn't start using the bike lanes and stopping at traffic signals. They didn't want to ticket the whole crowd, and there were no organizers, so they "let us off" if we promised to obey the traffic laws. It got dark, we din;t have headlamps, and we knew they'd ticket us steep for that, so we called it a day and all went home happy.
like I said, these dreams are a mixture between reality and...
I had a dream four years ago, the year after Bob died. where he came into a scene from my memory when I was six years old. I was six, and he was dead in my dream (he had died the year before) and he walked across the room and grabbed me by the neck, pinned me to the wall and breathed a very important, URGENT message to me. I don't remember it. But I do remember a year later having a dream where he and I were once again united, hanging out, on a much more even level. we were able to talk, laugh and share the way we did when I was little. I told him who I was, and the urgency was gone. I understood that he was gone, but that we were still conversing. And two nights ago, I had another dream, but in this one he was gone, and I was participating in the "cleaning" of his estate. We were turning his property in Unionville into a community forum, a gathering place for community events. He had a box of pictures that I looked through and found pictures of him as a guy my age, he was really good looking and had a beautiful smile, and pictures of him in SF in the 60's, with a lotus on his belly and a group of people who understood along with him. There were pictures of his whole life and they showed me the most beautiful person that I had only seen glimpses of. He was dead and gone, but I was learning about him. He had hundreds of bikes hanging in the rafters of his house and we were cleaning it out, I found a beautiful bike and one of the people helped me fix it up. I worked on it and got a lot of people to gather around, pick up a broom, and the next thing I knew we were relaxing and enjoying the gathering space we had created from Bob's old dusty barn. I knew he would have loved it, this was the lodge he wanted to build when he was alive and we had it built. Community.
The night before I had a dream of a five pointed astrological phenomenom that I knew signaled the coming of the collective unconscience, it was a mark of a higher awareness. Brent had told me the numbers for five (ever noticed how many countries have a five pointed star on their flag) and I was a glowing mass in the heavens that made a five pointed star.
Last night was the third powerful dream, a collective of teenagers, younger than myself and aware, very aware, the Artech's gathered (very likely in BC?) and they had a metal studio, high tech and industrial (I remember marveling at the ability to harness industry).they told me there names, introduced a eachother one by one and i felt welcome.
They were rolling steel, and one guy (the one I really connected with) was explaining how you have to measure the steel to roll it, taking into account the curvature. They had a part of the workshop where they could make long steel tubes, another where they made rolled sheet metal, and everyone was nineteen, maybe twenty.
I learn a lot in my dreams, I learn about relationships to people. With Bob, even though he's been dead for five years, I still feel like we have a conversation going, it just takes months between episodes. I feel like I tell him about my life and I learn about his, and its him and me, and we're still Calvin and Hobbes, a fire fighter and a water heater, and old couple, a dummy and his mummy. With other people, I have a house that I live in, that people come to visit, and I have a world that I travel in where I meet beatiful people on the edge of the new world, call them what you will, I see the people and I meet them.
just got those essays sent off. whew. if things go my way, I'll be interviewing, convincing them that there is no better canidate, then heading off on my way to Pine Ridge next fall. If things don't go my way, I'll deal with them just the same.
i made a map the other week, before I was even planning on applying to teach on the Pine Ridge Reservation. The map had cities across the country on it, no roads, no state boundaries, just the names of cities.
Here's the list:VancouverSeattleOlympiaPortlandEugeneDavisSanFranciscoBlackRockCitySaltLakeCityBoisePocatelloHelenaStLouisTwinCities and last but not least, Pine Ridge.
Yeah, it was on there, long before I even thought of teach for america or anything remotely related to getting a job there. I just wanted to go there, I wanted to see the delapadated arch that hangs in the entry way to the wounded knee cemetary, I wanted to see the place that crazy horse and sitting bull and black elk and thousands of others who never made it into the white history of the wild west believed to be the center of the universe, where life begins and where all life on this earth ends.
My Grandma told me the other day that My Grandpa Ed taught on the Pine Ridge Reservation for a while. Strange, I'd call it a coincidence but if you look at the numbers, there are no such thing.
struggling through application essays here, trying to fit what normally I
would say in a handful of keystrokes into five hundred words.
And trying to fit what took me the last four years to figure out
into five hundred words.
to my computer: hello, soon you will be my mind
to a stranger: sweet dreams
because there isn't much of a difference between waking up and going to bed.
check the new project, the website is up.
these are the pages from my gravity book, part of the Hand Bound: salvaged culture project. we're teaching people to bind books with urban debris. props to Aaron for these photos.
these are two books from the begining of Hand Bound: salvaged culture, a project Jack, aaron and I are working on.
student incidental fees pay for all student programs on campus. the fee is regulated by the program finance committee, charged with determining whether a group contributes to the cultural and physical development of the students. If they find a group to be deserving of the student incidental fee, they are responsible for approving a mission and goals statement as well as setting a budget for the group.
The Commentator, a libretarian, conservative paper is funded by the incidental fee. The PFC is not allowed (as determined by the supreme court) to determine funding for the commentator based on content. Rather, they are only allowed to use the paper's impact on campus as a determining factor.
The issue has become heated, because the Commentator (which publishes an annual issue titled "The Hate Issue", among others) has printed hateful remarks targeting women and the LGBQT community on campus. I will not reprint the remarks here, but point you to the Oregon Daily Emerald's web site if you wish to read them. In summary, the remarks include open support for rape, in fact they go so far as to encourage rape, as well as comments targeted at a transgendered student, suggesting that heirs genitals should be removed by force ( a gun was the suggested method) and then go on to suggest that other violence would be appropriate if it were targeted at this particular student (who they included a picture of). The editor of the commentator claims these were satirical remarks.
The targeted student brought the issue to campus administrators, who all turned him away, suggesting he turn to the PFC with his complaint. He still holds the option of pursuing the issue through a court. The PFC is arguably not the proper forum for this issue. However, with little recourse left at heirs disposal, the student chose to bring the issue to the PFC. Fortunately, the PFC recognized the unique nature of the situation, and students on the committee saw that they were responsible not only for mindlessly approving fiscally responsible budgets, but for once they were given the opportunity to stand up for someone who was otherwise ignored. The PFC has now voted twice on the issue, and both times they have refused to pass the Commentator's mission and goals statement, citing no particular violation, simply that they did not want to fund hatespeak with student dollars.
The other side argues that this is a violation of the first ammendment. It is not, they are still allowed to publish and distribute the paper, just not on student dollars. they also claim that the PFC is overstepping its bounds and making decisions based on content. they are not, they are making decisions based on the paper's ability to benifit the cultural and physical development of the student body, which is well within their bounds.
At the end of the hearing, when a stalemate was reached, with the committee unwilling to pass the mission and goals statement (they can't do anything else until the issue is resolved and an acceptable mission and goals statement is based), one memeber of the committee resigned from his duties.
The student who brought the complaint to the PFC, and several members of the PFC have effectively jammed a stick in the gears of our student government, a stick that will not be removed until not only the issue of the individual student's complaints, but also of hatespeak on the student dime are resolved.
project I just finished made of:
salvaged machine parts, welded steel, american flag, bike tube, old fan (see sketch)
I've been practicing these affirmations/confirmations on a social level. first person I meet that day, how do we interact, if I go lloking for free food, how long does it take (I can usually find a little something on the bike ride home from campus), If I show somebody something, how long before I am able to see that thing myself?
tonight its oreo crumbs and ice cream. the oreo's from the dumpster and the ice cream on uncle sam.
"Waves happen," Mr. Rumsfeld told survivors. "Weather is
untidy. Sometimes you have to make do with the weather you
get instead of the weather you want."
if normal means shutting up, letting it be, not saying it cause I'm not sure what they'll do in response, I like crazy