Tuesday, July 9, 2019

Return to Disney World-June 22 to 29: Part Two

My daughter and niece at Disney Springs.

The EPCOT park is made of different pavilions and the world showcase of nations. The original intent of the pavilions was to show human progress and sciences. The picture above is from "The Land" pavilion which mostly tells the story of agriculture through the centuries. These pictures highlight a different area, one where plants are grown using various methods like hydroponics and aquaculture. This highlights the science aspects as well as supplying a good deal of the fish, fruits, and vegetables used at the restaurants located at Disney World. This enclosure is largely cutoff from the outside and is  climate controlled.        

Here is a couple of coffee trees growing inside the building. Yes, they're using sand as a rooting medium.
The "boats" that take visitors through the historical part and the growing enclosure.

At the center of the enclosure is a pretty big date palm tree.
Back outside on the World Showcase and this is the main building of the Italian Pavilion. Each nation on the World Showcase as numerous restaurants, places of interest showing off that country, and is generally staffed by people from that nation. 

Spaceship Earth seen through a structure at the Chinese Pavilion. I'm sorry, I have no idea what that structure is called.

The Mexican pavilion.
Me with Goofy. Got to admit, my affinity for this Disney god pretty much typifies my own personality.  

Monday, July 8, 2019

Return to Disney World-- June 22 to 29

Early morning pool side at Animal Kingdom Lodge's Jambo House. On the first night of the recent vacation we had a studio room which we switched out to a one-bedroom with a kitchen at Kidani Village for the rest of the trip. 

The lobby at Jambo House.
A beautiful and massive headdress made by the Igbo people of Nigeria.

Morning view on the balcony of the one-bedroom at Animal Kingdom Lodge's Kidani Village. The building catering more to the Disney Vacation Club members.

Me with Pixar characters Sadness and Joy at EPCOT

Thursday, July 4, 2019

American Karma



Bryant hated his brother-in-law from the day his wife first introduced him. A successful real estate developer, Richard Carter was the ugly epitome of arrogance and overindulgence. Just minutes after sitting down with Richard in the lobby of the Miami hotel where he was staying, Bryant desperately wanted to escape the man's presence. He oozed a sickly sweet and condescending confidence that would rivaled medieval kings or Roman emperors.

“So Elaine says you teach high school history.” Richard said after the two sat down across from each other in the available overstuffed chairs. “Got to admire a man attempting to teach those animals the finer points of the liberal arts.” He continued with a thinly veiled snide smile.

Bryant's stomach turned instantly sour trying to decide if Richard's remark was aimed at the poor, mostly black and Hispanic kids he taught or at his profession. Commonsense suggested that Richard was probably aiming at both given how the man had expressed his disdain of anything involving government on the Fox News business shows he periodically appeared. Richard was one of the standard issue talking heads Fox News pulled out whenever they wanted to decry the abuses of wasteful spending and how the poor middle class taxpayers were being taken advantage of by the evil liberals.

Richard's main qualification for his television appearances, beside his good looks and expensive wardrobe to show off his wealth, was his ability to propagandize free-market capitalism. His rants about how America was great because of hard working but often abused businessmen almost always sent Fox's assortment of blonde bimbo female hosts into orgasm. Richard always finished his appearances by claiming anyone could be a success in America if they only worked hard.

Something Bryant knew from his students was unfortunately not the case. He understood systemic poverty was like oily tar, if you were born into it or through misfortune found yourself engulfed by the condition, escaping was damn near impossible.

It was a testament to the ignorance of Fox viewers that they could ever believe people like Richard gave a damn about their well being. Richard's primary concern was his own advancement in both money and prestige. This meant cost cutting measures like hiring as many illegal immigrants he could get away with on his construction worksites. Such violations also meant that if anyone got hurt they either left on their own accord or were run out of town by one of his security guards.

While there were rich men and women who cared about their workers and community, those like Richard existed just to taken advantage of the system to their benefit. That they occasionally had to work the ignorant masses from time to time was just par for the course.

“Yeah, all the way from the birth of civilization to the fall of Rome. The whole range of assholes from deluded god-kings to decadent, inbred aristocrats who didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground.” Bryant responded while looking Richard straight in the eyes.

Richard slightly laughed at the remark while he lifted the sparkling glass containing two shots of expensive bourbon to his mouth. After consuming the golden brown liquid he sighed deeply as if he was dealing with an impaired child. “Yet those god-kings and aristocrats pushed mankind forward.” He said obviously satisfied with his cleverness.

It was only the arrival of Elaine and Richard's wife, Maria, that stopped Bryant from answering. The trip to Miami was part of Bryant and Elaine's honeymoon. The fact that Richard was paying for a shopping spree for the two women was the only reason Bryant was giving the egotistical ass the time of day. Richard's one human trait was his love of his wife and sister, for that reason alone he was willing to attempt to be civil. Bryant sat in the chair listening to the two women talk about their adventures while hoping he would have little to do with Richard in the years to come.

On one wall of the lobby was a huge television screen showing another real estate bastard descending an escalator with the caption saying he was going to run for president. Richard noticed the broadcast as well and broke into a huge grin. To Bryant, his wife's brother looked like he had just seen Jesus.

“Son of a bitch,” Bryant whispered to himself before waving down a waiter and ordering a stiff drink.

Several Years Later...

The bus caravan had finally reached the southern border. Bryant, squeezed in the middle of a too small seat situated on the left side of the bus held his wife and daughter tightly watching the activities outside. Several of the militia guards had dismounted from their former U.S. Army humvees running ahead of the convoy. It was early morning with the sun just beginning to rise in the east but to Bryant the night was just beginning.

The years following his first meeting with Richard while personally satisfying had been on long series of disasters for the country. The election of Donald Trump quickly eroded the already decayed structure of American political life. Trump and his minions systematically cut away the checks and balances of the Constitution leaving chaos and an extremely weaken United States government.

Matters were made worse by the incompetence of the Democratic Party, namely several of its 2020 presidential candidates who ran independently or on third party ballots once they failed to secure the nomination. They drew enough votes away to secure another electoral college victory for Trump.

The years of Trump's second term were even worse than the first. His erratic behavior damaged everything from the economy, to the judicial system, along with the functioning of agencies like FEMA. By this time political gerrymandering and voter suppression supported by rigged courts had all but removed any effective opposition. Trump's successor, a former governor of South Carolina and United Nations ambassador rode into office promising to continue his policies. That's when the hammer finally fell.

After eight years toying with tariffs and altering the Federal Reserve system the economy finally collapsed a year into the new president's term. Bryant, who by this time had changed occupations since the education system was pulled apart, watched the small protests around the country evolve into riots, then scattered uprisings. With already starved local governments cut to the bone, the militias that had grown under Trump began to take up positions to enforce their versions of the law.

Abused inner cities residents rebelled eventually forcing the federal government to send in the army in an attempt to restore order. That was when the West Coast was hit with a massive earthquake which ravaged everything from San Diego to San Francisco. Throw in an ongoing drought in the farm belt and two category five hurricanes making landfall on the southeast coast the fabric of society disintegrated. By 2026 the government of the United States had been replaced with a scattering of already failed states governed by various warlords. But Richard Carter somehow stayed above the chaos.

With the country dissolving, Bryant and Elaine sought refuge at Richard's compound in Texas, a relatively peaceful area. But Richard and other members of the rich and powerful knew the violence would soon overwhelm their location so he made plans to get his family, including Bryant, Elaine, and their daughter out of the country.

The caravan was an assortment of travel buses whose main advantage was that they had running engines and fuel. Richard and his friends paid heavily for militia protection with their destination being the border where Mexican guards had taken positions on Trump's now completed wall preventing scared Americans from sneaking out of the former country. A few bribes here and there would assure the Americans entry into the safety of Mexico.

The only problem was that wasn't what happened. After arriving at the checkpoint, Mexican Army soldiers escorted the bus passengers into the very camps that U.S. Immigration and Customs Agents once held Mexicans and Central Americans fleeing the poverty and chaos of their countries.

“Wait a goddamn minute,” Richard screamed as a Mexican soldier pushed him back into the line leading into the camp filled with rows and columns of dilapidated tents. “I'm Richard Carter, you can't treat me like this. I'm a human being seeking refuge from violence and militias.”

A Mexican Army colonel heard the commotion and came over. “Yes, I know of you Mr. Carter,” he said in flawless English suggesting he spent some time in the former United States.

“Finally,” Richard exclaimed, “someone with a little bearing and intelligence.” Richard was giving his usual smile and in the few seconds he had instantly regained the imperial bearing he displayed on the now defunct Fox News.

Richard's recovery was short lived. The Mexican colonel grabbed the soldier's rifle and used the butt of the weapon to slam Richard's head. The stunned real estate developer fell to the ground, barely conscious.

“Now get into the fine concentration camp your former president built for my people.” The colonel said with his voice oozing with revenge. It took several more impacts with the rifle before Richard finally got the message and crawled into the camp on his hands and knees.

Bryant couldn't help but laugh at the karmic justice that had befallen his brother-in-law and his once great nation.

Friday, June 21, 2019

Passing by Hotel California



With a budget running into the tens of billions, at least, you would think the army would spring for comfortable travel buses to move soldiers from one fort to another. But no, there were about sixty of us crammed into a glorified school bus traveling from Fort Irwin, California to Fort Carson, Colorado. The best that can be said was that my tired comrades and I were on the very last leg of what had been a month and a half long field training exercise (FTX) at Fort Irwin involving the OPFOR (Opposing Forces) unit stationed at that god forsaking desert outpost.

See, this was the late 1980's when the United States and NATO still worried the Soviet Union and the satellite nations of the Warsaw Pack would invade Western Europe in an effort to bring down the free world. So several years before the big shiny star wearing boys inhabiting the Five Sided Funny Farm (Pentagon) decided to make the 177th Armored Brigade stand in for the commie bastards by having them go against other army units using Soviet tactics and vehicles modified to look like the enemy. And the best place to pursue these war games was a dusty, semi-forgotten post out in the Mojave Desert, Fort Irwin. The best way to describe the Fort Irwin National Training Center (generally called NTC) is that its isolation and open spaces would allow a degree of realism that would difficult to get anywhere else.

So for years poor suckers like me would be loaded on buses and planes, if they were far enough away, and sent to NTC to have their asses thoroughly waxed by the OPFOR in the hopes that if the balloon ever went up we make the Soviets regret being born. Truth be told, while I shudder at the idea of having to go through that bullshit again, for the twenty-something version of myself back then playing combat soldier was fun. Another part of these deployments I did enjoy was being able to see the brilliance of the Milky Way at night since we were so far away from any major city lights.

So after what felt like an eternity living in sand, eating MRE's, and trying to avoid the irate wildlife like coyotes and snakes my unit was on the road again heading home. One particular trip had us leaving NTC late in the evening taking a route that would have us drive partially through Nevada. As the hours passed, we left all signs of civilization behind us and hit a stretch of road that would have been perfect for an X-Files episode or any other show involving UFO's and those little gray aliens.

Being glorified school buses there were no reading lights nor televisions so once the sun went down we all pretty much passed out. Except me, I was dealing with a minor knee injury that made sleeping difficult so I just zoned in and out enjoying the quiet. I don't remember the scenery outside the bus but given that we were in southern California the one thing I can say for certain was that desolate and dark would be the best description.

It was after midnight when we moved into an area with hills and we began shifting in our seats as the bus driver made his adjustments to stay on the road. While the swaying was minor it was really bothering my knee, so I was fully awake when we suddenly came upon something we didn't expect to see. One minute we're on an empty road in near pitch-black darkness and the next there is a blinding light ahead of us. This of course woke everyone up and after our eyes adjusted we were able to see what was a casino resort just across the Nevada state line.

After weeks living in the desert like monks this outpost of obvious gambling decadence and carnal sin about drove my fellow twenty-somethings and myself crazy. The parking lot was full of high class sports cars and as we passed the main building there were dozens of hot women outside dressed in tight, skimpy attire. Thinking about it now, it's a testament to our discipline and dedication as soldiers that we didn't mutiny, take control of the bus, and head straight to the casino's front door. Frankly, I'm surprised no one simply opened the two emergency doors on the bus and jumped out.

As the casino receded behind us we all calmed down and dozed back off to sleep. The lights of the casino stayed visible for far longer than seemed reasonable but steadily dwindled as our distance increased. Still nursing my knee, I watched it until it was no more than a bright star on the horizon.

The next morning my fellow soldiers and I all talked as if the casino was a mutual dream. As if our pent up desires all mashed together and created a place where our fantasies became real. That was decades ago with me now a totally different person. I have absolutely no desire to visit any casino, and being married and in my fifties makes any fantasies of young gorgeous women in tight, skimpy attire utterly ridiculous. But I've got to admit every time I hear the song Hotel California by the Eagles I feel a little of that ancient energy of a younger man.



Thursday, June 13, 2019

Living On A Dangerous Edge




Maybe it was just a Southern thing, but when I was growing up most adults I knew held a certain awe for The Andy Griffith Show. For those who don't know, The Andy Griffith Show was a sitcom situated in the fictional North Carolina town of Mayberry that ran from 1960 to 1968. The central character was the county sheriff, named Andy Taylor, who each episode shared down home, commonsense wisdom as he managed the collection of harmless oddballs who were his friends and neighbors.

It was one of those shows that now would be called “family friendly” since there wasn't any foul language said, nothing in the way of sex was ever hinted, and had no scenes involving car chases or gun fights. In fact, the episodes usually contained a strong moral point about honesty, humility, compassion, patience, diligence, fidelity, and charity. The type of content that good, salt of the earth country life-loving folk use to eat up before they started worshiping the Orange Human Slug. You know, the slug who has had several marriages and multiple adulterous affairs, with one involving a porn star while his current wife was pregnant or had just given birth. To detail the slug's other character failings and abnormal behaviors is beyond the scope of this post.

Salt of the earth country life-loving folks still regularly watch the Andy Griffith reruns that persist down here in South Carolina almost tenuously as kudzu. The trouble though is that while these folks still admire the show, the principles Sheriff Taylor lived and shared on the show have been largely forgotten. Case in point was Sheriff Taylor's views on why he didn't carry a gun.

While a fictional character, Sheriff Taylor felt that if he carried a weapon the respect he received from other people most likely originated in the fear of what he could do with that weapon. A sentiment that once did have a basis in real life. Back in the 1980's I had a full-fledged gun-nut period where carrying a weapon for protection seemed like a good idea. No, I didn't live in a dangerous neighborhood nor did I carry around lots of money.

By that time popular culture had become flush with movies and television shows where the heroes regularly used weapons of many types to save the day. I admit comparing the action movie heroes of the 1980's with a sitcom sheriff from the 1960's is an apples and oranges situation, but the contrast between the two is important. All the big action movies characters solve their problems with the heavy use of firearms and lots of ammunition. If any of the other movie characters dare to mention diplomacy or even talking with the “enemy” they are portrayed as either evil sympathizers or hopelessly naive.Yes, the scenarios most action movies played with involved foreign armies or terrorist groups which logically required the use of military style weapons. The end result though was still the cultural acceptance of all problems can be resolved by the unlimited use of heavy weapons and unlimited ammunition.

The remarkable thing is that during the 1980's, I remember numerous people telling me I had a serious mental problem for wanting to buy one of those “Rambo guns.” I was repeatably told by hunters such assault weapons had no use outside of the military. The comparison one person used was that hunting with an assault weapon was like taking a sledgehammer to a fly. That if I absolutely had to have a something to shoot it was best just to purchase a simple bolt action deer rifle. But no, I had become hypnotized to the glamour of how assault weapons were presented in those movies. I wanted to save democracy from those damn commie bastards and to accomplish that task it was commonsense to purchase something designed for such extreme times.

Adding a touch of nuance to my gun-nut delusion, during those years I was serving in the active duty army as opposed to most of those wackos who somehow never found the local recruiter. Luckily, not long later I stumbled into scuba diving and got my certification and equipment paid for by selling my assault rifle and the semi-automatic pistol I had bought as well. It's funny now, but in the space of eighteen months I went from a delusional Rambo to a wannabe Jacque Cousteau. Hindsight being what it is in my book, I'm calling that one a win.

In my opinion a type of movie that is far worse than improbable action heroes saving democracy from nasty low-IQ commies are the revenge orientated vigilante motion pictures. The standard scenario for these films first had some normal, usually middle-class guy losing his family to a gang of thugs. The next act in the movie had the police unable or unwilling to go after the bad guys for lack of evidence or because of legal maneuvering by the defense lawyer. This then forces the main character to buy a gun and then seek revenge, which in the movie is portrayed as a form of justice. The final act of the movie has all the bad guys gruesomely killed by the main character who usually then disappears into background noise of society.

In my opinion such vigilante movies helped breed a misplaced idea that civilians should carry a weapon to protect themselves from the human sharks lurking in the shadows waiting for a chance to attack those they love. Yes, it's a long, clumsy jump from watching a crappy revenge movie to believing society is falling apart. But I've seen people make just that conclusion every time a shooting is hyped up on the nightly news.  Their immediate reaction is to say a "good guy" with a gun could have ended the tragedy before it happened. Their thinking based on the simplistic idea that proper training and years of experience, such as what police go through is overblown. And since the 1970's we've gone from a single gunman on a subway making the news to military-style assaults on elementary and high schools becoming almost commonplace. While "good guys" with guns have appeared on rare occasion, their success is more a factor luck. Sooner or later some armed idiot with good intentions is going to get more people killed trying to bring down the wacko shooting up a department store or school.

As you can probably guess for me the common factor in all this is not just the normalization of civilians owning the type of weapons that once didn't go beyond the police and military. It's the bizarre attitude that some people truly believe their safety in a supermarket or walking down a street can only be assured by them carrying a firearm. Such people do not just relish the idea of pulling out their high caliber toy and blowing away another human being, its become a status symbol. The weapon they carry signifies their place in society, not their education, accomplishments, or even money.  

Yes, there are plenty of dangerous places in this country. But the extent to which this sickness permeates the country has long since crossed the line of rationality and now firmly resides in the psychotic. For these people respect now come only from their ability to inflect carnage on other human beings.

It boggled the mind to see how far we've fallen from sanity when it comes to guns. No, I am not saying civilian ownership of pistols and non-military weapons should be banned. Such a proposal isn't workable and would just further polarize this country, maybe to the point the wackos would start their long promised “Second Amendment Remedies” for us liberals. On the other hand, a free and healthy society cannot function when it is based on fear. Sooner or later the lowbrow masses will want to use their weapons to correct what they perceive as the unfairness of society. 

With television and movies a hodgepodge of remakes and reboots, I cannot imagine anyone seriously attempting bringing back The Andy Griffith Show. The commonsense wisdom the fictional Sheriff Taylor displayed with his refusal to carry a weapon is like something from ancient times. Now we are left with this as our reality: 

We can only hope this sick era passes quickly.

Monday, June 3, 2019

The Plastics You Don't See



Despite nearly three years of Trump occupying the White House and his accompanying assaults on human intelligence, dignity, and compassion, I still harbor some hope for our nation and species in general. Call me naive or simply a stupid wide-eyed fool, but having been raised on Gene Roddenberry's vision –Star Trek – I like the idea of a matured and rational humanity taking responsibility for our past actions and working to correct them. However, the scope of that task, even now, makes me have my doubts.

One example of humans trying to do the right thing is how many of us come together across the globe to cleanup beaches, namely to collect and properly dispose of used plastics. Unfortunately, even though the organization Ocean Conservancy has organized efforts that resulted in over 300 million pounds of plastics being removed, it truly is just the tip of the iceberg. See while beach cleanups are worthy efforts studying the effects of plastics that have washed ashore on remote islands shows we have a more difficult problem.

Most plastics no not decay into components parts like organic materials. Ultraviolet light from the sun and wave action does eventually cause plastics to breakdown, but just into smaller pieces that accumulate in sand on beaches or stay in the ocean. Yeah, that's still a huge problem with major repercussions for all lifeforms. The accumulation of these tiny pieces, called microplastics, makes it easier for water to flow through beach sand changing the rate it dries out. This changes the temperature of the sand which directly affects the incubation period for sea turtle eggs. Colder temperatures of turtle nests directly alters the sex ratio of these animals throwing a monkey wrench into breeding cycles.

While most people couldn't give a rip about an imbalance in the number of male and female sea turtles, given the complex and connected nature of marine ecosystems changing the chemistry of that community will most likely have further damaging repercussions. Ones that will most certainly affect human health and the overall food chain.

To get a further idea on the effects of microplastics, scientists traveled to remote islands free of large numbers of humans to study how it accumulates. The Cocos Island group, a chain of 27 small atolls is often advertised as Australia's unspoiled paradise. These researchers took samples of beach trash from twenty-five beaches from seven islands collecting organic and plastic waste that had washed ashore. Based on sampling, they estimated that string of islands contained 414 million pieces of waste weighing 238 tons with microplastics making 93 percent of that amount.

Still you might be wondering what does a trashy beach mean to me? And if these tiny plastics continue to breakdown does that mean they will become too small too matter? Besides simply decency and respect for the environment, keeping a clean beach means coastal areas can continue to draw tourists and make money for the businesses located there. For those who chiefly worry about such things, like irate a-holes who whine about their tax dollars and people on welfare that should be enough. The trouble though is that all ecosystems are connected and if you abuse and destroy just one facet of the environment enough the others will eventually feel the effects.

For those who slept through high school biology that not only means the livelihood of millions of people but ultimately the health of us all.

Read National Geographic's:

  

A new study reveals the dirty secret of beach cleanups: Much of a given beach’s plastic is tiny and buried.

Monday, May 20, 2019

Overrated Human Intelligence



One of my repeated topics for my mental offal is how I have seriously doubts as to whether human beings are an intelligent species. In fact one of my earliest blogging buddies took considerable umbrage to my proposal that while a few humans show true intellect or innovation, most Homo sapiens seem content to spend their entire lives going to work, eating, sleeping, and engaging in some form of lowbrow entertainment.

I fully realize that our civilization is not geared to pushing its people to make the most of themselves. Many smart and talented individuals are forever condemned to menial, low paying jobs because they didn't get a proper education to prepare them for college, or simply cannot afford it. Even if a person graduates from college, the job they often end up with is anything but enjoyable or fulfilling. They spend their days stuck in a cubicle dealing with various forms of stress, long hours, and stagnate wages. And we all know the ingrained prejudices of our society cripple many from ever escaping poverty and ignorance.

But where I begin to think humans are just glorified, hairless primates is that many of us do not have the barest inclination to better ourselves. We refuse to do anything but shove empty calories in our mouths while watching hours of low-quality crap on the television or computer. Sure, I have my guilty pleasures like a Three Stooges marathon or some bullshit action movie with explosions and ladies clad in tight spandex. Where I separate myself from the modern Hoi polloi (rednecks or dregs of society) is that I actively investigate multiple sources of new information, which involves the radical act these days of keeping an open mind. Most of all I read everything I can get my hands on, even items that do not support my preconceived notions or beliefs.

The actor Jim Carrey is not a role model for me. While I have enjoyed many of his movies, I understand he holds anti-vaccine views I find incredibly backward and dangerous. But when I saw this quote, I realized he stated my thoughts far more succinctly than I have in all my years of blogging. The vast majority of people I interact with on a daily basis are little more than automatons when it comes to understanding the world. These individuals perform a single function extremely well but when it comes to the topics of basic history, politics, science, or even elementary geography it would be easier to get blood from a granite stone than an informed opinion from them. Their lack of understanding of the world defies description, and yes many subscribe to some of the most outrageous conspiracy theories.

What I find darkly funny is how there is a movement to promote technical trades with the idea that a college education is not worth the cost. I understand the point, but we already have a situation where many people cannot find the United States on the map, recognize a picture of the seating vice president, or answer simple questions on history. I can't imagine how our democracy could even begin to function with a population even more ignorant of civics and history.

I know it's futile to even write this but if humans want a purpose to life the easiest one to suggest is that we spend at least a little of our time seeking to better ourselves in some way. Seeking a deeper understanding of the universe is simply too much to ask for the vast majority of people. Their desire to blow off the steam from a frustrating job is understandable, but we should have more respect for ourselves than to continuously wallowing in abject ignorance. Then again, I still hold the view that our intelligence is highly overrated.