Michigan Radio recently ran a story on The Cost of Creativity, a think piece designed to show the importance of arts funding to a state with a huge budget deficit. The story included a segment that discussed photographers "parachuting in" to Detroit, taking pictures of the numerous architectural landmarks that are now in ruins, then leaving to tell a "cliche" story of urban decay. One Vice Magazine column categorized the obsession with decayed landmarks as "ruin porn," (I found myself thinking, "that's a good point," then questioning the source as I glanced at the widget next to the article that featured pictures from their famous hipster critique, "Do's/Don'ts").
Other websites have attempted the classical objective approach. Buildings of Detroit, a project of author Dan Austin and photographer Sean Doerr, logs hundreds of photographs of formerly grand buildings now in varying states of decay, and provides a comprehensive list of architects of major city landmarks. The composition of Andrew Moore's photographs take me further below the surface than those featured by Buildings of Detroit. Can't Forget the Motor City shows a slightly more upbeat vision of the city, although sometimes the photographs seem a little contrived. My personal favorite? A B+W photo of two hands holding up an LP of Michael Jackson's Thriller against a sunset. A great picture, but it could have been taken anywhere.
I used the word "objective" to describe the Buildings of Detroit website, but it's hard to be objective when you take pictures of ruins -- or pictures of anything for that matter. If you don't address the story of how those ruins came to be, you're missing the point. Detroit is an extreme example of the decay that many American cities, large and small, experienced as the "American Century" came to a close. Cities arose to house the millions of factory workers within walking distance of the factory. As transit, especially cars, allowed people to live miles from the factory, it brought into question the necessity of cities in the first place. And as those factories disappear to the third world due to the free trade movement, what's the point of living in a city? You have to find some other reason, besides gainful employment, to live where you live.
But you know, it's not just cities. What about small towns on the western prairies, whose populations have dwindled since farm consolidation and the rise of monoculture? Or the struggling coal-towns and mill-towns of the Appalachians, whose work dried up as the coal ran out, or the jobs went to Brazil? I guess what I am searching for is the glue that holds these simultaneous (and apparently non-related) events together.
A couple of possibilities. (1) In America, you can always reinvent yourself, and if something doesn't go the way you want it to go in Detroit, just pick up and move to Iowa. And if Iowa sucks, move on to New Mexico. There's no reason to settle. There's no force that can cause you to put down serious roots. (2) Collective thinking in America -- between business interests, government, and public policy experts -- is not capable of thinking ahead more than about six months. Businesses see short-term profits... or they may see long term profits, but are too possessed in where the money is coming from right now to plan for the future. Politicians are only thinking as far as the next election cycle. Few people in positions of influence are saying, "what do we do when the coal runs out?" On farms, "what do we do when the aquifer dries up?" In cities, "What do we do if nobody wants to live here anymore?"
These are tough questions, indeed. Certainly, Roman advisers were telling Emperors that the Empire was getting too big, that it was getting tougher to train good soldiers to fight the barbarians. Certainly, advisers told the British parliamentarians that it was getting expensive to run an Empire upon which the sun never set, and that the willpower of its soldiers was fading, after two world wars, and countless years of keeping their boots on the necks of colonial subjects. The response from those in power has typically been to ignore the advice, like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand, or to reject the advise as patently wrong. Even serious global disturbances don't seem to shake our leaders, and making tough decisions is not something leaders engage in for pleasure, despite the fact that we've appointed or elected them to make those hard decisions.
My god. It's thirty minutes later and I still haven't made my point. But... I can't put a point on that. Not every situation has a clean resolution. Human nature is not bound to change. The Greeks called it Hubris. Res ipsa loquitor... the thing explains itself.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Does where we live make us happy?
I stumbled upon this index of "Happiest American Cities" and it got me to thinking about just what exactly makes me happy to live where I live. East Lansing, Michigan, is not the kind of place I brag about living. It's not "where it's at," but for me, it has what I need: I walk to work each day, I enjoy my job and my education at Michigan State, and I have been satisfied by the relationships I have formed with the many people I have met in the past half-year. It doesn't have the vibrancy and diversity a huge city, but has enough cultural diversity so that it doesn't seem isolated. Despite hard economic times throughout Michigan, there is a friendly resilience to most of the people I have met.
When you examine the list of the happiest cities, the apparent trend is that western cities are happier places. I would have picked Boulder, CO (the happiest city) for my top ten, and would have probably included Fort Collins, Salt Lake City, Santa Cruz/Monterrey, and Boise in the top 20. There are numerous smaller cities that were not included for this survey (only metro areas of 250K qualified), and quite frankly, I would suspect that many smaller cities would eclipse these cities by a significant margin. For instance, Ithaca, NY -- where I spent four years as an undergraduate at Ithaca College -- has an excellent quality of life, despite the dreary and gray winters. Ithaca is home to Cornell University (and IC, don't forget), boasts about 50,000 people, and is lodged in a beautiful natural setting, rife with hills, waterfalls and Cayuga Lake. The people who populate the city are generally enlightened, tolerant, and progressive. There are many small cities throughout the US that offer similar amenities... big city feel without the attitude... and with a closer proximity to nature.
The other point that interests me stems from a recent conversation with a colleague, who elaborated that people in the west "work to play," reflecting a different approach towards the meaning and purpose of employment. It is a somewhat unfamiliar idea to me, having grown up in the Northeast, an area of the country that seems to pride itself on working for the sake of financial and social advancement. The Northeast is an expensive place to live, and there aren't many places in the BosWash corridor where you can simply settle down, live in a bungalow-style home near a bike trail and a farmer's market, and barely scratch out enough income to pay the mortgage. And what would be the point? Subsistence living, to me, only makes sense in areas where there are significant natural features to justify living a meager lifestyle. You move to the Northeast to make money. There are lots of jobs, but the price you pay... the price...
Which brings up another point... if you weren't interested in financial or social advancement, why would you live in the Northeast? My best guess is that people have lived in Northeastern cities for generations. It was the first and only stop for many immigrants to this country, and many of their descendants have put down serious roots. When I left Philly three years ago to pursue a master's degree in Minnesota, many people asked, "why would you leave Philly, everything you need is right here?" The best conclusion I have is that people's primary reason for choosing a place to live is based on two things: jobs and family. Why would you tear up your roots if the job situation is "good enough?"
I am sure the western climate contributes to happiness. However, I also suspect that many people chose such locales because they knew that the place they lived would influence their happiness. For those who have the wherewithal to make that decision, congratulations on finding a great place to live. For those who don't care to make that kind of a move, find a reason to enjoy where you are, and bloom where you are planted.
When you examine the list of the happiest cities, the apparent trend is that western cities are happier places. I would have picked Boulder, CO (the happiest city) for my top ten, and would have probably included Fort Collins, Salt Lake City, Santa Cruz/Monterrey, and Boise in the top 20. There are numerous smaller cities that were not included for this survey (only metro areas of 250K qualified), and quite frankly, I would suspect that many smaller cities would eclipse these cities by a significant margin. For instance, Ithaca, NY -- where I spent four years as an undergraduate at Ithaca College -- has an excellent quality of life, despite the dreary and gray winters. Ithaca is home to Cornell University (and IC, don't forget), boasts about 50,000 people, and is lodged in a beautiful natural setting, rife with hills, waterfalls and Cayuga Lake. The people who populate the city are generally enlightened, tolerant, and progressive. There are many small cities throughout the US that offer similar amenities... big city feel without the attitude... and with a closer proximity to nature.
The other point that interests me stems from a recent conversation with a colleague, who elaborated that people in the west "work to play," reflecting a different approach towards the meaning and purpose of employment. It is a somewhat unfamiliar idea to me, having grown up in the Northeast, an area of the country that seems to pride itself on working for the sake of financial and social advancement. The Northeast is an expensive place to live, and there aren't many places in the BosWash corridor where you can simply settle down, live in a bungalow-style home near a bike trail and a farmer's market, and barely scratch out enough income to pay the mortgage. And what would be the point? Subsistence living, to me, only makes sense in areas where there are significant natural features to justify living a meager lifestyle. You move to the Northeast to make money. There are lots of jobs, but the price you pay... the price...
Which brings up another point... if you weren't interested in financial or social advancement, why would you live in the Northeast? My best guess is that people have lived in Northeastern cities for generations. It was the first and only stop for many immigrants to this country, and many of their descendants have put down serious roots. When I left Philly three years ago to pursue a master's degree in Minnesota, many people asked, "why would you leave Philly, everything you need is right here?" The best conclusion I have is that people's primary reason for choosing a place to live is based on two things: jobs and family. Why would you tear up your roots if the job situation is "good enough?"
I am sure the western climate contributes to happiness. However, I also suspect that many people chose such locales because they knew that the place they lived would influence their happiness. For those who have the wherewithal to make that decision, congratulations on finding a great place to live. For those who don't care to make that kind of a move, find a reason to enjoy where you are, and bloom where you are planted.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia
Just watched this gritty documentary on dancing, fatalism, and pill-popping in coal country W.Va. Best part, hands down... one of the dudes shaking a bottle of pills, "that's the Boone County matin' call." The movie chronicles the White family of Boone County, WV, who seem to be a relic of the Hatfield-McCoy era.
The movie is marked by rampant drug use, mostly snorting prescription pills like Xanax and Vicodin, and lots of casual pot smoking. This goes on during most family gatherings. In the final scene, where they are having a party out at a city park, the little kids are drinking and smoking by nightfall. During the 84th birthday party for Bertie Mae, grandmother of the family, the younger Whites slowly bust out more and more hardcore drugs, and Bertie Mae walks away saying, "drugs and computers is the downfall of mankind."
A few county officials provide some background on the county and the White family, placing them into the context of the fatalistic coal-mining culture of the WV Hill Country. A Deputy Commissioner's comments about West Virginia being owned by external interests, "like an African colony," were spot on, and strangely frank coming from a Law man.
My brother commented that the film lays bare the "terrifying beauty of west virginia," and that is damn right in my mind. "Terrifying Beauty" is such a great way to sum up West Virginia, as if "Wild and Wonderful," the state slogan, was not honest enough. I have felt the terrifying beauty of WV since I was a child, driving to Lost River State Park for a camping trip. On the way in, we drove past a revival of snake-handlers. My recollection of that weekend is that of being brought face to face with a version of humanity that was slightly more raw than the version I knew. Memories like that from childhood really stand out.
As for West VA, I could spend years just driving around that place. I recall all of our family trips to Missouri as a young child, when we took a winding highway through the mountains instead of the interstate. And a few summers ago, when I spent a few nights camping in the Mon Forest, I recall driving up a mountain pass on US-33 in a thunderstorm. WV is stuck in time, somewhat... modernization is wished for, but rarely made to happen.
In a related move, I just ordered a box set of the Wire, which when juxtaposed (Graduate school word) with the "Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia," has a lot of striking similarities... fatalism, honor codes, and an astounding level of drug abuse.
The movie is marked by rampant drug use, mostly snorting prescription pills like Xanax and Vicodin, and lots of casual pot smoking. This goes on during most family gatherings. In the final scene, where they are having a party out at a city park, the little kids are drinking and smoking by nightfall. During the 84th birthday party for Bertie Mae, grandmother of the family, the younger Whites slowly bust out more and more hardcore drugs, and Bertie Mae walks away saying, "drugs and computers is the downfall of mankind."
A few county officials provide some background on the county and the White family, placing them into the context of the fatalistic coal-mining culture of the WV Hill Country. A Deputy Commissioner's comments about West Virginia being owned by external interests, "like an African colony," were spot on, and strangely frank coming from a Law man.
My brother commented that the film lays bare the "terrifying beauty of west virginia," and that is damn right in my mind. "Terrifying Beauty" is such a great way to sum up West Virginia, as if "Wild and Wonderful," the state slogan, was not honest enough. I have felt the terrifying beauty of WV since I was a child, driving to Lost River State Park for a camping trip. On the way in, we drove past a revival of snake-handlers. My recollection of that weekend is that of being brought face to face with a version of humanity that was slightly more raw than the version I knew. Memories like that from childhood really stand out.
As for West VA, I could spend years just driving around that place. I recall all of our family trips to Missouri as a young child, when we took a winding highway through the mountains instead of the interstate. And a few summers ago, when I spent a few nights camping in the Mon Forest, I recall driving up a mountain pass on US-33 in a thunderstorm. WV is stuck in time, somewhat... modernization is wished for, but rarely made to happen.
In a related move, I just ordered a box set of the Wire, which when juxtaposed (Graduate school word) with the "Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia," has a lot of striking similarities... fatalism, honor codes, and an astounding level of drug abuse.
Stats Video
Thanks to my brother Brian for this link. Wonder what America's stats would look like if you broke out regions, populations, etc.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
From the Daily Show - Revenue Crunch for States
| Main St. Anytown U.S.A. | |
Most states (47 of 50) are out of money and looking for ways to generate revenue without increasing taxes or changing tax structures. The fear seems to be that if taxes are increased, businesses and people with higher incomes will leave the state and relocate to other states where taxes are lower. I think this argument is too simple. It's impossible to have low taxes and a high standard of living. A high standard of living means good schools, affordable health care, transportation infrastructure, clean and safe neighborhoods. That has a cost.
It's a dire situation. Guardian Angels to supplement police cutbacks in Camden, NJ? Stewart calls Camden "the place where people from Newark go to feel better about Newark." Pennsylvania governor Ed "Fast Eddy" Rendell (former Philly mayor and ardent Eagles fan) has staked Pennsylvania's revenue future on casinos. Rendell was the governor who complained about the "wussification" of America when an Eagles game was postponed due to an impending snowstorm. Wussification? He didn't have enough guts, even as an outgoing second-term governor, to say, "we need to raise taxes." He's not alone though. Few politicians are willing to admit we need to adjust our tax structure and make some significant cuts. Most just keep passing the buck.
What's ironic is that "low tax" states attracting business will find themselves in this same situation in 20 years, when they are losing businesses to a new surging economy (such as Mexico). Watch Stewart's interview with Governor Rick Perry of Texas. Perry claims that Texas can attract businesses to relocate from the high-tax climate of California, because Texas is a low-tax state. But he's recruiting the employees too, and within ten years, employees from high tech businesses are going to want California-quality schools in Texas, and that costs money. What I mean by "California quality schools" is teaching evolution instead of creationism, schools that provide lots of opportunities for extra-curricular engagement, and every AP course imaginable. But go on, Rick Perry, you can reap the whirlwind of recruiting thousands of highly educated liberal tech-sector workers to your state. I think you'll be looking at a sea-change.
| Rick Perry Pt. 2 | |
If you are in state government, shop around for the types of businesses that are looking to settle down and establish roots, not the business that wants to the immediate tax break. Wait. It's not the job of state governments to recruit businesses. Their job is to govern.
Friday, January 14, 2011
From the Daily Show - Larry Wilmore's Take on Huck Finn
This is such an old argument. Wilmore makes his point humorously. He also pokes fun at the current congress for whitewashing history in their recent edited reading of the Constitution on the floor of the House, which omitted the section about slaves counting as three-fifths of a person.
This clip appeared on the Daily Show with John Stewart (January 11, 2011).
This clip appeared on the Daily Show with John Stewart (January 11, 2011).
A second go-round
This blog represents my attempt to re-romance the web.
Ten years ago, or thereabouts, I spent a lot of time creating websites. It started with a website for the Ithaca College swim team (I'm a 2000 IC alum), which probably provided a little too much information on some of our team's extracurricular activities. The college and sports information weren't savvy enough to notice that there were pictures of athletes drinking beer on a quasi-official team site (I will attribute my indiscretion to the fact that I was a 20 year-old college boy lacking anything that resembled good judgment). That was 1998... a different time, indeed.
I was convinced I could make a living as a web-designer in the summer of 1999. That was the peak of the internet bubble. By the time I graduated in Spring of 2000, the jobs were sparse and only being given to designers with five years of experience or more... not to any college grad with a heartbeat. That was a let-down. I found a temp job in the Philly suburbs instead of a job in SoHo.
In 2001, I made a half-hearted attempt to make money in web-design. This included doing some free-lance work for a friend's mother's non-profit. It was a decent website, had all the basics. But things started getting more difficult, I had to learn new hosting systems that were more complicated than the IC servers. If you wanted to provide a space for user feedback, that involved learning .asp code, or maybe .php code, and I lost interest. The web evolved quickly. I couldn't hack it part-time.
Anyway, cut to 2011. I'm in my early thirties, a decade later, and the web has experienced a few great "shake-outs." The heavy-hitters have been established. The expectation of a web-presence for future faculty is clear. So this is my second foray into the web.
As for the title, "SpartanSpartan." The first "Spartan" is the word in its adjective form: "simple; showing an indifference to luxury," which characterizes my general belief about life. The second "Spartan," in its noun form (or mascot form), refers to my current status at Michigan State U (mascot=Spartans)... also was my high school mascot... so it seems to have some relevance to me.
Ten years ago, or thereabouts, I spent a lot of time creating websites. It started with a website for the Ithaca College swim team (I'm a 2000 IC alum), which probably provided a little too much information on some of our team's extracurricular activities. The college and sports information weren't savvy enough to notice that there were pictures of athletes drinking beer on a quasi-official team site (I will attribute my indiscretion to the fact that I was a 20 year-old college boy lacking anything that resembled good judgment). That was 1998... a different time, indeed.
I was convinced I could make a living as a web-designer in the summer of 1999. That was the peak of the internet bubble. By the time I graduated in Spring of 2000, the jobs were sparse and only being given to designers with five years of experience or more... not to any college grad with a heartbeat. That was a let-down. I found a temp job in the Philly suburbs instead of a job in SoHo.
In 2001, I made a half-hearted attempt to make money in web-design. This included doing some free-lance work for a friend's mother's non-profit. It was a decent website, had all the basics. But things started getting more difficult, I had to learn new hosting systems that were more complicated than the IC servers. If you wanted to provide a space for user feedback, that involved learning .asp code, or maybe .php code, and I lost interest. The web evolved quickly. I couldn't hack it part-time.
Anyway, cut to 2011. I'm in my early thirties, a decade later, and the web has experienced a few great "shake-outs." The heavy-hitters have been established. The expectation of a web-presence for future faculty is clear. So this is my second foray into the web.
As for the title, "SpartanSpartan." The first "Spartan" is the word in its adjective form: "simple; showing an indifference to luxury," which characterizes my general belief about life. The second "Spartan," in its noun form (or mascot form), refers to my current status at Michigan State U (mascot=Spartans)... also was my high school mascot... so it seems to have some relevance to me.
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