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January 28, 2007

One Day in Belgium

The United States had a historic cycling day on the Continent at the World Cyclocross championships, held at Hooglede-Gits, Belgium. First, Katie Compton took the silver medal in the women's race, and Jonathan Page followed with a silver in the men's race. An American has never medaled. Page's result is even more impressive given the strength of Belgium's national team--a podium sweep by the hosts was expected. Page also had a tough season, missing most of it with a shoulder injury. His result, however, should guarantee a team for next season. Page has been the only American in recent history to make a living racing 'cross in Europe, and his experience was evident.

January 26, 2007

Squalls

Listen, the snow is falling over town...

Bands of snow squalls had been coming and going all day. While the pine trees across the road were collecting snow, the roads were still wet. Then, at around 5:00pm, after my nose had been buried in a bug for an hour, I noticed I couldn't see much out of the office windows. I stood up and squinted--the roads around the office were now mostly covered. I weighed the benefits of waiting out the squall, but that would only mean adding darkness, which, given the current conditions, did not seem to be a positive. So I changed, packed my bag, and set off.

Listen, the snow is falling everywhere...

I couldn't ride out of the parking lot. The short hill was completely snow-covered, and because of traffic, I would have to wait at the entrance. So I walked up, waited for a kind soul to let me enter the road. Mt. Royal was only coated with a thin layer of snow, and below the pavement was still simply wet. I tried to stay in the saddle to gain a bit more traction, and that seemed to work. Traffic was light, but the car tracks included a bit of packed, icy slush, so I stuck to the snow near the shoulder. After cresting the first hill, I kept on the brake and maintained steady back-pressure on the pedals. At this rate, I thought, it's going to take me an hour to get home. Better late than never, though. Again, traction was good when the tires cut through snow, and I noticed some wet pavement on the approach to the next hill. I accelerated a bit on the wet pavement, but after passing through the first corner on the climb, the road was snow covered again, and I crept over the shoulder, settling back into the saddle. A driver refused to pass me, even after I was nearly in someone's front yard. Their loss, I mumbled, and kept my pace. Finally, after traffic cleared in the other lane, the car crept past.

Over the next crest, the pavement appeared again, and I accelerated, taking the lane over the snowy shoulder. This lasted nearly a mile, until packed slush pushed me to the shoulder. I looked down and noticed a rather chunk of snow and slush creeping out from the rear mudguard. I hopped the bike quickly, and off fell clumps of snow and bits of ice. Approaching the cemetery, I had a choice--deal with the possibly clear but busy descent into Etna on Mt. Royal, or the potentially snowy but quiet backroads through the Pine Creek Valley. I picked the latter, feeling the snow was would be a bit more forgiving than the traffic.

Between Empire State Building and between Trafalgar Square...

The turn into the residential area off Mt. Royal presented a fine opportunity to fall, so I kept the speed down and tracked through the snow. The road was snow covered, but again, the pavement beneath was wet. I approached the initial descent, I hopped again, and off feel more clumps of snow. The final challenge was ahead--the short, steep approach to the valley proper. The Shaler public works department had started their salting rounds, and the road was mostly wet, except for my lane on hill. Oddly, traffic was thick, and I was stuck on the snowy shoulder, keeping the speed low and the bike under control. Finally, as the last car passed, I moved into the lane, now wet at this point, and turned left into Pine Creek Valley. The road was wet, but it was still snowing heavily. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that I was apparently just on the northern edge of the squall, as blue sky and oranged-hued clouds were behind me. Oh well.

Listen, the snow is falling everywhere...

Riding through Etna, I noticed another of thin tire tracks in the snow, probably from Brad at Dirt Rag, the only other person I knew who might actually be commuting in these parts on a night like this. I was a bit concerned about the state of the 62nd Street Bridge, but as I climbed the approach ramp, the deck was mostly wet, with just patches of snow and slush. I crossed without incident. The city, apparently, was on top of the snow, as Butler Street was wet, with fresh snow on the sides of the road. Traffic was light, but I still stuck to the snow, leaving my solitary tracks behind.

Snow dream
Snow fall
Snow fly
Listen
Listen

January 16, 2007

Technology and Hope

Recently, MIT's Technology Review featured an article on the $100 laptop and the One Laptop per Child program. These projects are attempting to export hope in the form of education and limitless technology. While upon first glance these seem to be worthy goals, but they lose their luster a bit when thinking about their effects in the future. We are a culture enamored of technology (see the recent swooning over Apple's iPhone). We love our gadgets, but we also see them as tools. The internet has opened literally thousands of educational doors, bringing together like-minded people in the pursuit of knowledge (a living, breathing example of the sorts of learning webs Ivan Illich proposed in Deschooling Society). This is a good thing. But this and other benefits are not without their costs, both material and spiritual. In light of the Technology Review article, and a recent post by Joseph Pearce on the costs of globalization, I would like to examine the costs of distributing laptops to developing countries as a way to spur educational growth.

We often under-estimate the material costs of technology. I do not mean the rising end cost of technology--that is, the hit on our pocketbooks--but the "hidden" costs of technology, namely energy consumption. There is a commonly held conceit among many people, especially those that trend to the political left, that cars, SUVs especially, are bad, and thanks to them, it's 60 degrees in Pittsburgh in the middle of January. There may be a morsel of truth there, and I'm a critical acquaintance of the car, but gasoline is not the root of our problems. Many of these same people hold almost limitless hope in the potential of computers, without realizing the costs. The networks of computers that support the wonderful Internet require massive amounts of energy to run. Much of that energy is generated by methods that are not without their negative effects on the environment. More importantly, the production of our computers leaves a very heavy mark. Another conceit is that American factories are horrible polluters, but the truth is somewhat more rosy. Thanks to our environmental protection laws, American manufacturing is relatively clean when compared to many other nations. Economically developing nations have little concern for the environment--their concern is maximizing production and maximizing profits (globalists are, generally, supportive of this because they perceive economic as a populist panacea--as a country grows economically, so does its citizens). In order to satiate our desire for smaller, faster, more powerful computers (and other gadgets, ahem, iPhone), developing countries, especially those in the East, throw ecological caution to the wind. Now, imagine as we export this technology (in the form of hope) to the Third World. Mr. Pearce outlines the costs this way:

Here’s the real heart of the matter: If globalization is as successful as these globalists hope, the proportion of energy consumption and pollution attributable to the United States will continue to drop, but not because Americans use less energy and cause less pollution but because the underdeveloped countries, particularly those on the Pacific Rim, will begin to use more and more of the earth’s resources, catching America and perhaps even overtaking it in terms of energy-conusumption and pollution. If the globalist dream is fulfilled, it must surely mean that the whole world enjoys the fruits of the consumer system. Imagine everyone in China owning two cars. Imagine everyone in India demanding the same number of consumer goods as the average European or American. Several billion extra cars polluting the atmosphere, millions of new factories producing hundreds of billions of disposable goods for the billions of new consumers in the developing world. The economist’s dream is the ecologist’s nightmare.

Now, I don't mean to conflate the motives of the laptop project with those of economic globalists, but the results will likely be the same. Hope takes the form of consumer goods, and as consumption rises (ultimately the result of such a program, again whether a stated goal or not) so do the costs.

The spiritual costs are not as easily counted. Neil Postman, the bright cultural critic, understood these sorts of changes truly groundbreaking--a new medium being introduced into a society. Though the bullk of his work focused on the television and its effects in Western culture, he often compared the introduction of the television to the introduction of the printing press. When Guttenburg perfected moveable type, he was only thinking of the great benefits it would confer on society. Obviously, he did not know that it would split the Church, or cause countless revolutions, or reshape the very nature of childhood. Postman often joked that critics told him he would have been against the printing press, and he would respond that, yes, he would at least have voiced his concerns about the changes to the cultural landscape that the invention might cause.

And so it is with the introduction of technology across the Third World. This is not to say that the introduction of cheap laptops would destroy, say, African culture (as if there is a single culture). In fact, such tools, if used convivially, could create learning webs that aided farmers and builders (many Africans who come to the United States for formal education often study agriculture or animal husbandry, because these subjects are far more useful to bettering lives when they return home). Yet technology will change the cultural landscape, and not necessarily confer additional educational benefits. Our own educational system has embraced technology not strictly because of its benefits for the process--it is understood that because the technology is so pervasive, it is best to expose children to it and teach them how to use it. However, in, say, Tanzania, technology education is far less important. History shows that the computer is not a prerequisite for higher learning--there are quite a few very bright people who did very important things without the benefits of a laptop or the Internet. Yet we have so much hope in the power technology that we believe that laptops could change the fortunes of the Third World.

Technology is not a silver bullet, merely a tool. Viewing technology as a hope for the development of the Third World is little more than symptom of the rule that technology exercises over us (as described by thinkers like Ellul and Schuurman), and our complicity in extending its power. This isn't to say that technology would not be useful in developing the Third World and its system of education, but the OLPC must realize that simply dropping technology into a technologically-starved region will have significant ramifications on the culture, some good good, some bad. Simply approaching the issue with the attitude the laptop could save the world is short-sighted at best and destructive at worst.

January 10, 2007

Food (Again)

I've always liked that the folks at Hen Waller used their site as a bit of a recipe repository. I've done that a bit in the past here, so I thought I'd do again, by giving an overview of what we eat for dinner during the course of a normal week. At one time, before we heard the pitter-patter of little feet, we ate out quite a bit (living across the hall from Matt did nothing to curb this), but now, given that four mouths must be fed (and two must quaff beer), we don't get out much. 'Tis alright though, as we eat pretty well here at the homestead.

Our staple meal is home-made pizza and greens and beans. We were always fans of pizza, so learning the art at home was a natural step, but we didn't learn to love greens and beans until we began to frequent Enrico's in the Strip for lunch while Jen was pregnant with Sebastien. The recipe is simple--kale is braised with white beans, garlic, and when it is around, white wine. I could eat it every night. Our love of leafy greens make us welcome at the CSA pickups last summer, as most folks tired of the greens (primarily kale and chard) after a few weeks. By the end of the summer, we were taking home bags of the stuff. A large portion of our garden this summer will likely be greens as well. Really. We can't get enough. Our dough has evolved over the years, and currently it is a mix of white and wheat flours, oil, salt, water and yeast. The sauce is also home-made, and if we had a buffalo, I'd make the cheese too.

Another recently added staple is ravioli, made by not far from our house and sold in the Italian deli down the street. These are combined with the tomato sauce, and served with sausage (usually chicken with gouda cheese) and zucchini. Our sauce will vary a bit, but recently it has been two large cans of pureed tomatoes, onions, garlic, red wine, and a handful of spices.

A few weeks ago, I hit upon another weekly staple when trying to clean out the freezer and produce drawer. I cooked ground turkey with onions, garlic, salt, cumin, and curry powder, then added peppers, zucchini, black beans, and some salsa. This is stuffed in a tortilla with a bit of cheese. Tasty, and simply, and, though I've been buying specifically for it recently, a good way to clear out the produce draw.

If you are counting at home, this seems like just three days, but the pizza/greens combination is consumed two or three times a week (generally based on the size of the kale bunches). Typically, I will cook either some chicken or fish (generally salmon, as it is what the Co-op has the most consistent supply) with vegetables and some sort of starchy goodness (pasta, rice, or couscous). Given that we are never more than a half a block away from shoring up our supply of mozarella cheese, pizza is a popular crutch in case of laziness (plus the kids like it). There is almost always a bag of peas in the freezer, so and when cooked with olive oil and salt, aren't as bland as they sound. Another hit last winter was a root vegetable stew, but I haven't embarked on this yet, as we've been less than motivated to spend the time to clean pounds of potatoes, rutabagas, parsnips, and turnips in preparation for cooking.

January 09, 2007

Food

We sent in the deposit for our 2007 CSA share with Mildreds' Daughters' Urban Farm this morning. We've purchased a full share this year, given that we still had to supplement a bit with the half share last year. Additionally, half-shares this year will get a full share every two weeks, instead of a half share every week. This, combined with veggies grown in the backyard, should allow us to keep it in neighborhood, as it were, not supplementing with produce from the Co-op.

Another bit of good news from Barb and Randa at Mildreds' Daughters' is that the ranchers at Rose Ridge Farm just over the border in Ohio will regularly have their beef and pork available to CSA members. We had the opportunity to sample their stuff last year, and it was both tasty and relatively affordable (compared to the beef from a ranch in Elizabeth, PA). (One note about grass fed beef that is not mentioned in the article--cows are actually built to eat grass. Their complex stomachs can generate proteins from good old grass.)

January 07, 2007

Kunstler on the State of Things

James Howard Kunstler has an essay in the latest edition of Orion entitled "Making Other Arrangements." This is classic Kunstler (minus the expletives), outlining the problems facing the United States thanks to increasing energy scarcity. Kunstler, however, is not all fire and brimstone--he outlines how we can deal with the changes that may lie ahead, and his hope remains in our ability to live together:

It's a daunting agenda, all right. And some of you are probably wondering how you are supposed to remain hopeful in the face of these enormous tasks. Here's the plain truth, folks: Hope is not a consumer product. You have to generate your own hope. You do that by demonstrating to yourself that you are brave enough to face reality and competent enough to deal with the circumstances that it presents. How we will manage to uphold a decent society in the face of extraordinary change will depend on our creativity, our generosity, and our kindness, and I am confident that we can find these resources within our own hearts, and collectively in our communities.

January 04, 2007

And So Goes Pittsburgh

The Port Authority and Allegheny County have announced massives cuts in public transportation services for Pittsburgh. This, of course, has prompted wailing and gnashing of teeth, and much of the reaction is warranted. It is, however, important to realize that this is not the first time such cutbacks and rate hikes have been proposed. Generally, when the decisions are made, the cutbacks themselves are scaled back, and all is not lost. That said, even if the cutbacks are halved, the city can expect some hard times. I'm a bit stunned at the coverage the Post Gazette has provided regarding the reaction of regular transit users--why focus on folks in Squirrel Hill and Regent Square and Swissvale? Organizations such as nursing homes will be the hardest hit, as many of their employees rely on public transportation for their commute (it is worth noting that one of the most effective forces against rate hikes and route cuts in the past are churches in less affluent neighborhoods and nursing homes).

If you want to see where the city and county's priorities are, watch the Plan B arena funding story unfold. The city, county, and state, who cannot find the money to fund public transportation, will magically have the ability to help the Pittsburgh Penguins replace the aging Civic Mellon Arena. This after diverting public money over the past decade to build a baseball stadium and a football stadium (one of which contains a product that hasn't been successful in over 15 years).

It is worth noting that Bike Pittsburgh is offering help for commuters affected by the cuts by providing low cost self powered transportation (bicycles) and route planning. The cynical side of me says no one will take them up on this, but if even twenty people ask for their assistance, I would count that as a success.

Where do I stand on this? I'm still working out where public transportation fits into my vision of Things. I have, however, been reading Ivan Illich's Energy and Equity, in which he examines the relationship of transportation and equality.

Liberation from the radical monopoly of the transportation industry is possible only through the institution of a political process that demystifies and disestablishes speed and limits traffic-related public expenditures of money, time, and space to the pursuit of equal mutual access. Such a process amounts to public guardianship over a means of production to keep this means from turning into a fetish for the majority and an end for the few. The political process, in turn, will never engage the support of a vast majority unless its goals are set with reference to a standard that can be publicly and operationally verified. The recognition of a socially critical threshold of the energy quantum incorporated in a commodity, such as a passenger mile, provides such a standard. A society that tolerates the transgression of this threshold inevitably diverts its resources from the production of means that can be shared equitably and transforms them into fuel for a sacrificial flame that victimizes the majority. On the other hand, a society that limits the top speed of its vehicles in accordance with this threshold fulfills a necessary-though by no means a sufficient-condition for the political pursuit of equity.

January 02, 2007

Small Is Beautiful, Again

From Joseph Pearce's introduction to the discussion of his book Small Is Still Beautiful:

What do we mean by economics? Or, perhaps, what do we not mean by it?

We do not mean “economics” as it is defined in the Collins English Dictionary as being merely “the social science concerned with the production and consumption of goods and services and the analysis of the commercial activities of a society”. True, this is the conventional definition, hence its appearance in the dictionary, but it is not its original meaning. The word “economics” comes from the Greek, oikonomia, a combination of oikos (house) and nomos or nemo (manage). It is, therefore, in its root or radical meaning, the managing of a home. And this brings us to the family, and to the sub-title of my book: Economics as if Families Mattered. If we forget the family we forget to live economically. We begin to live hedonistically.

Allow me to elaborate.

Schumacher, along with that other great subsidiarist, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, championed the idea of self-limitation. This necessary virtue for a healthy economy, a healthy culture and a healthy environment, is enshrined in the everyday realities of family life. Families teach us to be selfless and to sacrifice ourselves for others. It is these very virtues that are necessary for the practice of the economic and political virtues so sadly absent from our ailing and deteriorating world.