Took a few days to find vacation equilibrium. An existential problem of freedom. Parenthood is strange. You lose your personal identity. You forget what you did before the children. How you would spend your time. There was a restlessness the first few days. Approaching dog days of summer and all that. Our ancestral Northern roots get a little grumpy in the heat, prefer the cabin fever of a cold winter chill. There were moments of the sublime though, no doubt. Swam a bunch, drank a beer in the pool, little buddies thought that was quite the novelty, kept wanting to smell the bottle.

Went to a lake by our house yesterday morning, so Mom could run a lap around the track, about 2 miles. Me and the gang sat next to the lake eating breakfast. It was cool, shady, early morning blue. A wind pushed across the lake. We stood there four in a row, like a constellation and stared at the beauty. I watched it seep into them, color their ideas and their selves. Antidote.

Today we woke up early hit a park and then ran errands as a family. Equilibrium achieved. From a friend, got eight black berries plants and a six-pack of peppers to get in the ground tonight. A little late for the peppers, some would say, but in these odd times and weathers, summer could go to December, so why not give it a shot. That’s what life, gardening, writing, anything is about, just trying, accepting pass or fail with stoic heart, and then trying again.

Read this article, via Reddit and Bloomberg.com, headline: Will Robots Ravage the Developing world? Short answer, yep! Gist of the article was that robots will replace low level manufacturing jobs, removing the dependency on the developing world for these goods, stalling those countries modernization (humanizing?) processes. From the article:

In other words, where poorer countries could once use their cost advantage to lure manufacturers, now all cost advantages are disappearing in the robotics age. A robot costs the same to employ whether in China, the U.S. or Madagascar. That’s why Adidas is now making shoes in Germany — in a largely automated factory, closer to its customers and free from the risks, costs and complexities of a lengthy supply chain.

Stop and think about this, you’re a leader in China or India. You’ve got all these people, this huge manufacturing base, you’ve got the debt based economic systems and ideologies from the U.S and others, and now you realize the base and the debt are actually huge liabilities, and you actually need a bunch of goddamn ROBOTS? And not just robots the article explains, but you also need the costly “best of the best” of the human race, engineers, computer people and artist types and of course bureaucrats, that have a next-generation thinking ability, which are essential to utilize and wield the robot factories. But wait you might ask, or rather I ask, what about computer analytics, and programs that can predict these behaviors and trends better than those artists and bureaucrats can, so really they just need the small handful of engineers to keep the wheels on it and there you go, the seven billion or so rest of us can just go watch some paint dry, anyone seen ol’ Tom Sawyer?

I know that’s a gross over simplification. I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s an evolutionary process. Did you know Hope, Elpis in the Greek, was the last thing to hang from the lip of Pandora’s box? That’s what Knowledge is, I think, Technology too. All just other names for Pandora’s box. We have to open that abyss. We have to dive in and play, and suffer. We have to grow.

Speaking of suffering, let’s talk about editing. It’s 2:33 PM. I’m in the writing lab. I should be editing…and I’m not. I’m okay with that, but we must either examine the existential question why can I not edit, or examine what is the failure in the editing in itself, that is leading to it being felt in my mind as a drag process.

The issue is psychological, existential. It’s embarrassing to admit. Mommy and Daddy issues, in the critical sense of not being raised with proper validation and support in my efforts, which produced a who really gives a fuck sort of mentality. It’s an insecurity issue. That if I finish my work and it’s no good, that means I’m no good. Sad face.

My personal life is like this too, where I can come on too strong, Luca Brasi style, and seem over-committed, but same time when small issues develop I can just walk away from the project. Even in employment I could always do the job, and would receive promotions and positions of leadership, but then this or that would happen and next thing I knew I was out. I play too nice and then too cut throat; I’m a narcissist; I apologize.

I feel like editing always does this to me, just sends me into right this no-man’s land of self-reflection. It’s awful just give me my paints and canvas and let me make a big fucking mess of it and walk away. Not with words, they insist. These most be ordered and patterned by the rules. Must be made whole and perfect. Except if your Gertrude Stein, or Thomas Pynchon, or someone like that, or a poet of any variety, or just some asshole on a blog…2:53PM

3:11PM Was editing that, lost in these speculations, world came in, kicked me in the face. Younger sister on the phone, death in the family. Soul crushing tragedy. Half to shut full self off to survive. Makes me feel so stupid talking about how hard editing is. The hardest day of writing, editing is a luxury. Take nothing for granted. Waste no time with affected positions. This is your life. Own it. Good luck artist friends.


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