Autumn

I’m not sure what is is about autumn; but, for me, there is an enchantment that pervades the world. I was walking on our street and noticed the lovely yellow plumage of the trees in front of our condominium complex, which reminded me of Van Morrison’s song Moondance. Interestingly, as the song ran through my mind, it was the arrangement of leaves on the ground that brought  the romance of the season into focus…

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And all the leaves on the trees are falling

To the sound of the breezes that blow

And I’m trying to please to the calling

Of your heart-strings that play soft and low

You know the night’s magic

Seems to whisper and hush

And all the soft moonlight

Seems to shine, in your blush…

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(from Moonlight, by Van Morrison)

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The Lorax

“Mister!”, he said with a sawdusty sneeze,
“I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees.
I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues…

“I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees
Which you seem to be chopping as fast as you please;
But I also speak for the brown Barbaloots,
Who frolicked and played in their Barbaloot suits,
Happily eating Truffula fruits.
Now, since you’ve chopped the trees to the ground
There’s not enough Truffula fruit to go ’round!

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

 

from The Lorax, an excellent book by Dr. Seuss

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The Anthropocene: the New Man Epoch

economist.com

A new geological epoch, the Anthropocene (the New Man Epoch), may have begun; which, according to predictions, will include the sixth mass extinction in Earth’s history.

A paper has been written (The New World of the Anthropocene) in which the authors claim “…that recent human activity, including stunning population growth, sprawling megacities, and increased use of fossil fuels, have changed the planet to such an extent that we are entering a new geological era. Since the Industrial Revolution, humans have wrought such vast and unprecedented changes to our world that we actually might be ushering in a new geological time era, and changing the course of the planet’s geological evolution for millions of years.” The authors of the paper are Jan Zalasiewicz, Mark Williams, Will Steffen, and Paul Crutzen (who was awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry for his study of atmospheric ozone).

Currently, fertilizer factories are account for the fixation of more nitrogen (the conversion of more nitrogen to a biologically useable form) than all land-based plants and microbes. The runoff from fertilized lands triggers oxygen-depleting algal-blooms in river deltas around the world.

Poor forest husbandry practices have caused devastating erosion and an alarming increase in sedimentation (and giant dam projects cause the opposite, holding back sediment that would naturally be washed out to the seas of the world). The loss of forest habitat is predicted to cause mass extinctions, which are already occurring over a hundred times quicker than at any time during the previous half-billion years; and, if trends persist, the rate of extinctions may rise by a factor of thousands.

But the largest geological effect is the change in the atmospheric composition; namely, an increase in carbon dioxide (and other greenhouse gasses) as a result of the use of fossil fuels, which are causing a warming effect that could raise temperatures to levels not felt on our planet for millions of years. There is evidence that plants and animals are already migrating toward the Earth’s poles. Many species will not survive. It is predicted that sea levels will rise six meters (twenty feet), or more. Carbon dioxide will eventually acidify the oceans to the point that corals will not be able to build reefs (there is evidence that this process is already occurring, and by the middle of this century it may cause devastation to corral reefs). Reef gaps are a consequence of the previous five major mass extinctions; the most recent mass extinction was approximately sixty million years ago, possibly due to the impact of an asteroid. To the geologists of the far future (assuming homo sapiens survive), our footprint will look eerily similar to the devastatingly sudden consequences of an asteroid striking the planet. I wonder how we will be viewed by our distant descendants, but I imagine it will not be with approval.

There is still debate that the increased carbon dioxide in the Earth’s atmosphere is a naturally occurring phenomena (although the gasses are increasing at an unprecidented rate of over ten times the speed of previous epochs, mainly driven by human activity); however, these arguments, to me, seem moot: does it really matter? Is it morally acceptable to continue to belch and leach poisons into the atmosphere and waterways? I think we’ve become inured to the problem; apathy reigns, and I admit that I, alike millions upon millions, am caught in the lethargy of our society. This is what scares me: the ennui of apathy.

Paul Crutzen, who coined the term Anthropocene, has said that his “…hope is that the term Anthropocene will be a warning to the world.”

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The Devotion of Suspect X, a book review

The Devotion of Suspect X, by Keigo Higashino (translated by Alexander O. Smith) sold two-million copies in Japan and won the prestigious Naoki Sanjugo prize . The main characters are: Yasuko, a divorced woman with a teenage daughter; Detective Kusanagi; Assistant Professor (of physics) Yukawa; and high school teacher (and mathematical genius) Ishigami.

The novel is a pseudo-Colombo-style, psychological police procedural. The murderer is known near the beginning of the book, and the detective is stuck within the labyrinth of the plot. Detective Kusanagi’s friend Yukawa and the mathematician Ishigami engage in an intellectual struggle — similar to real-life shogi — that results in a slow unraveling of the case’s intricacies.

There are some twists in the plot, but everything is telegraphed to the careful reader.

At first, the ending annoyed me, but then I realized it was apropos: a flaw in one of the main characters causes him/her to neglect one possibility…

An entertaining read; clever, but not too hard on the little grey cells.

Recommended.

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Coffee, Music, 5enses, and Vancouver

Yesterday, while drinking a coffee and enjoying  music…

(Domenico Scarlatti piano sonatas, Ivo Pogorelich

Everybody Digs Bill Evans, the Bill Evans Trio (Sam Jones (b), Philly Joe Jones (d)); I especially enjoyed Night and Day, Tenderly, and Peace Piece

Workin’ with the Miles Davis Quintet (Johns Coltrane (ts), Red Garland (p), Paul Chambers (b), Philly Joe Jones (d))

West Coast Jazz, the Stan Getz Quartet (Lou Levy (p), Leroy Vinnegar (b), Shelly Manne (d), along with Conte Candoli (t)); in particular, A Night in Tunisia)

…I suddenly recalled the best coffee I’ve ever tasted: from the 5enses cafe, which was on the ground floor of the Hotel Georgia (sadly, the Hotel has been replaced with condos, though the builders had the sense to include some of the original façade in the new building’s design). 5enses was a purveyor of wonderful sandwiches, the finest chocolates, danishes, and the most delightful coffee I’ve ever sampled (I can create a mean cup o’ joe, but 5enses’ coffee was an elixir that I cannot aspire to recreate: strong, smooth, and dark as fuligin): they lovingly brewed each cup individually, like an espresso. I miss the days when I’d take the Sky Train downtown on a sunny day, get a large, 5enses coffee to go, and walk to Stanley Park.

Occasionally, a long-pour, quad-grandé Americano from one of the ubiquitous Starbucks’ franchises will suffice (I don’t really enjoy their ‘coffee’, which often has a burnt-bitterness that their espresso-shots usually don’t have — though some Starbucks’ locations create a better Americano than others); better yet, a trip to Granville Island, where JJ Bean’s original store  serves a much better large Americano (equivalent to my absolute best attempt); and, a walk around and through the market and shops at Granville Island is always pleasant, even when it rains. Brynne, my youngest daughter, is so fortunate: she is in her second year of study at Emily Carr University of Art & Design, and can get a JJ Bean coffee any time she wants…

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Book Spine Poetry

I visited a blog yesterday and was introduced to book spine poetry. I found some more at Brain Pickings, a contest (that is, sadly, completed), and many other references to spine poetry.

The idea is to choose books carefully so that, when laid on their sides and stacked, their titles become the lines of a poem

I’d never heard of it before, but decided to try my hand at it:

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As I Lay dying

the speed of dark

The Sense of an Ending

Altered Carbon

Being Nobody, Going Nowhere

We

The Dispossessed

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The Sense of an Ending, a book review

The Sense of an Ending, by Julian Barnes, is a short book; a novella (my copy is only 150 pages long), but a healthy bundle of reality is included in the small package. The book slowly pieces together a mysterious tragedy; it is skillfully written, and highly readable. The narrator — Anthony (Tony) Webster — struck me as willfully dense, yet I empathized with his character weaknesses.

As old-age and death approach, Tony struggles with elusive memories in an attempt to make sense of his life: “History is that certainty produced where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation.” (p. 17 & 59)

The book ended on a resonant, minor key; and, although not necessary, I think a re-read might provide additional insights.

Recommended

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Enjoying Scotch

I am by no means an expert on scotch; but, for those who know even less and would like to know a little, I offer the following.

First, start out with a decent, single malt scotch. If you’re unfamiliar with scotch, I’d sample a few varieties from friends or family to discover what type of scotch you prefer before splurging on an expensive bottle. There are many resources on the web, and hopefully your local liquor store has an in-house expert. If all else fails, at the bottom of this post I’ve listed a few brands and expressions that I’ve enjoyed (I’ve kept the price moderate: $56 – $95 per bottle in B.C. liquor stores, probably less in most other countries…).

Before I get any further, I’d like to add my thoughts on the ever-contentious argument of whether you should add ice to scotch. In my opinion: no. But it’s your scotch, so do whatever the heck you want. Adding ice to scotch cools the liquid and counters the alcohol burn (a difficult hurdle for beginning scotch drinkers), but you’ll sacrifice taste as the liquid cools. Scotch cooled slightly is, I suppose, acceptable, but it should never be cold: if you must add ice, put a large cube in the drink so it doesn’t melt too quickly (the larger the cube the slower it melts, due to a smaller surface area in contact with the liquid).  If you want to cool your scotch, there are specially designed stones that can be put in the freezer and used in your drink: the stones won’t scratch your glass and won’t water-down your scotch. If you must have a bunch o’ ice in your scotch, I wouldn’t bother buying anything expensive.

Buy a good glass (or set) for full enjoyment: the glass should be used exclusively for enjoying whisky. A tulip glass is favoured by most, but some like a small tumbler or snifter. I found a set of nicely shaped, inexpensive juice glasses that provide an enjoyable experience.

Pour a dram into your glass. There exists a specific volume (1/8 fluid ounce) associated with the term dram, but — practically speaking — a dram is a term that denotes varying volumes, which depend on personal preference and the generosity of the dispenser; I recommend anything from a half-ounce to two ounces (I’ve never gone below a half, but have occasionally been ‘guilty’ of overshooting the two-ounce specification. It depends on how much time you want to devote to drinking a dram).

Optional: some drinkers add water (anywhere from a few drops to a 1:1 mixture), claiming this unlocks flavours. I’m not a great believer in adding water; but, if you do add any, don’t use tap water because dissolved minerals and chlorine will mask the taste of the scotch.

Tilt and spin the glass so that the whisky wets the inner wall of the glass, increasing the surface area for evaporation, hence enriching the fragrance. Pay attention to the viscosity of the liquid as you gently swirl.

Nose the whisky: hold your nose several centimeters from the top of the glass and detect the subtle aromas. Dip your nose a little closer; again, pay attention to the aromas: perhaps different essences arrive. Then lower your nose closer, but not so close that alcohol burn masks the experience. If you keep your mouth open while nosing the whisky it may help in distinguishing the diverse aromas.

Gently swirl the whisky and nose again at different glass angles and distances to appreciate all the delicate aromas (note: if you added water you should wait a few minutes before the next step for a complete ‘marriage’ of the whisky and water to develop).

The mouthfeel: have a small sip, just enough to coat your mouth and swirl around your tongue. Some whiskys feel thick, oily, or grainy compared to others: coat your tongue and assess the texture.

Taste: hold the whisky in your mouth until you’ve sampled all its flavours, and then swallow.

The finish: after swallowing, keep your mouth lightly closed and breathe in through your nose to notice any flavours that arise into your sinuses (it may help detection of flavours if you let a small amount of air enter through your mouth as you breathe in through your nose). Whiskeys have different lengths of finish. When the flavours dissipate, breathe normally.

Enjoyed with full pleasure, a dram can last well over half an hour, depending on the volume dispensed.

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I’ve got a lot more sampling to do, but below are a few modestly priced (less than $100) scotches I’ve enjoyed:

Dalwhinnie, 15 yr. (Highlands region). Toffee, fruit, floral, subtle smokiness, nutty, a touch of spice ($95 in B.C. liquor stores). Easy to drink.

Glenmorangie, Nectar D’or (Northern Highlands region. Extra matured in Sauternes Casks). Citrus, honey, vanilla and nutty ($90 in B.C. liquor stores). The original, 10 yr. Glenmorangie, is also quite nice, at a price that may more easily fit the budget ($70 in B.C. liquor stores).

Balvenie Doublewood 12 yr. (Highlands region:  traditional oak, then Spanish sherry casks). Subtle, floral, fruity, vanilla and pepper ($80 in B.C. liquor stores)

Laphroaig, Quarter Cask (Islay region; transferred from large casks to age further in small oak casks). This is a hearty, full-bodied scotch. Laphroaig has a medicinal (salty, seaweed) and peat flavour with smoky, sweet fruitiness ($75 in B.C. liquor stores). This is a lovely scotch in this price-range, but the peat flavour and heartiness is not for everybody.

Glendronach, 12 yr (Speyside region: double matured; first in sherry casks, then in first-fill American Oak). Full-bodied, sweet sherry notes with creamy vanilla, nutty ($67 in B.C. liquor stores).

Arberlour 12 yr. Double Cask (Speyside region: aged in both traditional oak and sherry casks). Medium-bodied, fruity, subtle pepper and smoke ($60 in B.C. liquor stores).

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And, for the Irish blood in me, I’d like to include one whisky from the Emerald Isle:

Redbreast, 12 year (pure, single-pot Irish whiskey). Sweet with ginger; a spicy kick ($56 in B.C. liquor stores). This isn’t scotch: it’s produced in Ireland, but it’s the best Irish whisky I’ve tasted.

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Poetics

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Quotes regarding poetry:

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If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. Emily Dickinson

Perhaps no person can be a poet, or can even enjoy poetry, without a certain unsoundness of mind.  Thomas Babington Macaulay

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.  Carl Sandburg

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood. T.S. Eliot

It is a sad fact about our culture that a poet can earn much more money writing or talking about his art than he can by practicing it. W.H. Auden

To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.  Robert Frost

Well, write poetry, for god’s sake, it’s the only thing that matters. e.e. cummings

To break the pentameter, that was the first heave. Ezra Pound (from the The Pisan Cantos)

The poem reveals itself only to the ignorant man. Wallace Stevens

Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me. Sigmund Freud

Science is for those who learn; poetry, for those who know. Joseph Roux (from Meditations of a Parish Priest)

A poet must leave traces of his passage, not proof. Rene Char

Who can tell the dancer from the dance? William Butler Yeats

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His Master’s Voice, a book review

Głos Pan (’68), trans. from Polish by Michael Kandel (1983)

Stanislaw Lem (1921 – 2006) was one of the great equalizers of my youthful reading habits; as I was escaping life’s absurdities via science fiction novels by Heinlein, Asimov, etcetera, I also chanced upon Ursula K. Le Guin, Olaf Stapledon, Stanislaw Lem, and others who bent my mind along more diverse pathways.

In Lem’s famous novel, Solaris, humanity was in an uncomfortably insecure, intellectual situation; after years of careful study, scientists were unable to comprehend — in any meaningful way — an alien intelligence. In His Master’s Voice (HMV), humanity is caught in a similar state of confusion (in Solaris, the characters are involved in a psychological morass, whereas in HMV a more philosophical aura pervades the narration).

The aliens in HMV are only oblique characters; their neutrino-stream message is discovered and a top-secret, scientific task-force (including formal, natural, and social scientists) is assembled in an attempt to decode the message; ultimately, the scientists are unsuccessful (the failure is stated at the beginning of the book: it is the pathway to failure that propels the story, which is, in reality, a backdrop to Lem’s philosophical monologues). There are some minor accomplishments, but the narrator, Peter Hogarth, remains cynical (“In my opinion, the code was not intended for a civilization as low on the ladder of development as ours…” page 93). Hogarth is critical of humanity’s maturity — at an individual and social level — and the concept of stretching the mind, rather than focus on specification, is a theme that ripples throughout the novel. Hogarth becomes annoyed at the reductionist approach employed by the scientific team; he believes that the team’s successes are trivial because they do not ponder the message as a whole. When Hogarth reaches out with his intellect, he senses something meaningful in the totality of the message; unfortunately, he cannot grasp anything tangible. However, even though he failed to find the answer, he was left with a delightful sense of contented-wonderment:  “The oddest thing is that defeat, unequivocal as it was, left in my memory a taste of nobility, and that those hours, those weeks, are, when I think of them today, precious to me.” (page 131).

There were several themes within the novel, but the aliens’ message as a metaphor for valuable information hidden within noise struck an interesting chord. For example, Lem — through the novel’s narrator, Peter Hogarth — explains his frustration with the information age:  there is too much information, and it is extremely difficult to sort through and extract the worthwhile from the useless (interestingly, the book was written in 1968, before the great proliferation of information — both worthless and indispensable — on the web). One of the main characters in the novel, the head of the project, Ivor Baloyne, is characterized as a genius; however, he is involved in so many projects, with so much competing information, that he “…will always remain greater than his achievements, because it very rarely happens that in so gifted a man all the physical horses pull in the same direction” (page 54-55). The modern age of specialization has created noise in its wake: it is difficult to acquire a view of the whole if researchers drill-down too thoroughly into specifics (it becomes difficult to ‘see the forest through the trees’). The concept of extraneous information is further developed with an attack on the modern excess of poorly written works.  Lem was always critical of mainstream science fiction and eschewed the cliché, which he felt spoon-fed readers with a too-comfortable form of escapism (in HMV his criticism is expanded to the vast majority of writing in any genre: “…in bookstores one can find any number of books by persons without decency — let alone knowledge.” page 21). Lem’s irritation with formulaic science fiction (especially American SF) surfaced palpably several times in the body of the novel (see pages 38, 92, 99, 106-107). Lem expands on this theme when his narrator laments the modern world’s general level of reading and writing: he points out that reading and writing were, at one time, solely in the hands of the intellectual elite (not a desired state of affairs, but it helped control the quality of writing); however, in modern times anyone can write a book and economics trumps intellectual merit, which has produced a flood of drivel that makes it extremely difficult to find the worthwhile amongst the rubbish (see p.21). This theme of ‘valuable information buried in the noise’ is also revealed in the way the aliens’ message is discovered, serendipitously, via random astronomical data, con-artists, pseudo-science, tabloid journalism, curiosity, and chance.

I found His Master’s Voice difficult to appreciate at first, but once past page thirty — or thereabouts — I was sucked into its vortex; as usual, Mr. Lem’s imagination created an interesting pathway. The novel is firmly entrenched in the sub-genre of social science fiction (my preferred variety) and is really not about aliens, but about humanity’s failings. It contains scathing critiques of politics and scientific ethics and methods, and the choices about which ‘Master’s Voice’ is listened to. It is a philosophical work with shrewd depictions of the human psyche. At times the novel struck me as too cynical, but I sense that it is a deeply honest dialogue from the author to the reader.

By the end of the term of scientific study, several theories arise regarding the neutron signal’s creation, but Peter E. Hogarth remains convinced that the signal is a message from an intellectually superior being, and he insists that the message must include instructions regarding how to send a message back. “Skepticism,” he says, “is like a microscope whose magnification is constantly  increased; the sharp image that one begins with finally dissolves, because it is not possible to see ultimate things: their existence is only to be inferred.” (page 198)

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Recommended

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