This about sums up my attitude toward climate change chicken littles who constantly predict that Humanity— and usually the United States specifically—is in imminent danger of destroying the environment á la “The Day After Tomorrow,” i.e. a massive worldwide destruction any time now. In fact, Mother Nature is a tougher broad than that:
But two lessons rise to the surface here. The first is to never underestimate the power of ecosystems to absorb shocks and adapt to change. While we should not treat Nature with reckless disregard, we should also not dishonor her by intimating that she stands in precarious balance, perennially on the brink of human-caused collapse. As ecology continues to develop as a science, I expect that it will be the extraordinary resilience of natural systems that will become the prevailing acknowledgment.
The second lesson is that we must demand a sense of perspective when dealing with issues of environmental concern. The natural inclination when faced with torrents of extremely focused media coverage is to extrapolate broadly to “the ecosystem” at large. Hysteria and fear do not make for good policy, however. An inability to properly understand ecological sensitivity leads to dire predictions which fuel misguided regulatory reaction.
This sensible attitude from Paul Schwennesen follows his apt illustration of the so-called “catastrophe” in the Gulf of Mexico. Without letting British Petroleum or the Obama administration off the hook, he shows that dire predictions of ecological collapse are over-wrought and that such over-reaching can lead to bad policy.
Picture your neighbor’s pool. Unless you live in Malibu, it’ll contain about 6,000 gallons. That’s the “Gulf” for purposes of discussion. Now go to your garage, get a quart of oil and pour it in when he’s not looking. Pretty good sense of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, right?
Nope, not even close. Put a drop of that oil onto a sheet of paper and carefully cut it in half. Now do it again and toss that quarter of a drop into the deep end. Even this quarter droplet (about the size of the comma in this sentence) is about 10% too large, but NOW you have a sense of what 4.9 million barrels of oil in the Gulf looks like.
Now that we’ve grappled with the issue of scale, let’s look at the aftermath of this ‘catastrophe.’ According to the government scientists, seventy-five percent of that sliver of a droplet has now evaporated, been eaten by microbes, skimmed or burnt. (This estimate is in dispute, but every day the released oil is being reduced to get to that figure, if not beyond it.)
[Link via Tom Peters]
There’s been a lot of talk about the so-called Ground Zero Mosque, the Islamic cultural and religious center that is being planned for a location several blocks from the site of the former World Trade Center in Manhattan. On the one hand, opponents say that the plan is a finger in the eye of America, an effort by Islamic radicals to compound the wound of 9/11 with a massive triumphal landmark. Supporters of the plan say that this is simply a matter of religious freedom, that America is the type of country that will not discriminate against anyone’s religion, even if the co-religionists of the mosque planners were the perpetrators of one of the worst crimes on American soil. And there’s another type of critic who seems mainly to be opposed to the opponents of the mosque, demonizing them as being primarily motivated by hatred and ignorance. I have no time for the latter group because it based on the politics of demagoguery and not reason.
I sympathize with the desire to give the mosque planners the benefit of the doubt. We are indeed a nation that values religious freedom as well as the principle that we don’t tar the innocent with the crimes of the guilty. And yet, I think I sympathize more with the opponents of the mosque.
The fact is that this is not just a mosque, a neighborhood worship space for Muslims to gather in prayer. No, this is a massive $100 million complex that is planned to include theaters, auditoriums, pools, fitness centers, classrooms, restaurants, and a prayer space that can accommodate 1,000-2,000 people. (I say “planned” advisedly since it has become readily apparent that this project exists primarily in the minds of its originators. It turns out they haven’t raised the money and aren’t even close and don’t even have an architect yet. This thing may never get built.)
Size alone is not enough for me to criticize the mosque plan. It’s when I learned of the name originally planned for the building that I got really suspicious: Cordoba House. (They’ve since changed the name to the innocuous sounding Park51 after the controversy erupted.)
The Great Mosque of Córdoba
So what’s the big deal with Cordoba House? You have to know the historical context of Córdoba, Spain. From 711 to 1236, Córdoba was ruled by Muslims who had invaded Spain from North Africa. From 766 to 1031, it was the capital of the Caliphate of Córdoba, which ruled all of the Iberian peninsula and parts of North Africa. The name of the city invokes the al-Andalus, the most successful invasion of Christian Europe by Muslim armies. And the city of Córdoba was the location of the Great Mosque of Córdoba, a massive building which was considered the greatest work of al-Andalus and the symbol of the Muslim foothold in Europe, which they had seen as the first step in the inevitable conquering of Christendom by Islam.
And now we have this new Cordoba House, a massive symbol of the presence of Islamic culture and religion in New York City, a few blocks from Ground Zero itself. (Some supporters of the plan say that the mosque isn’t next to Ground Zero, but is blocks away. Well, it’s certainly close enough that the actual building they plan to purchase was itself damaged in the 9/11 attacks, thus it’s close enough.)
The original name of the project indicates to me what the true motives are. Now, the people behind the project, a group known as the Cordoba Initiative, have claimed that they use the name to indicate “the desire to bring back the atmosphere of, ‘interfaith tolerance and respect that we have longed for since Muslims, Christians and Jews lived together in harmony and prosperity eight hundred years ago.’” You have to have a particularly tortured view of history to call the period of subjugation to Islamic rule a period of interfaith tolerance and respect. In fact, it was a system in which a conquered people were allowed to practice their faith within strict limits and with fewer rights than Muslim citizens. This is the model that the Cordoba Initiative hails as their vision for their new Islamic center. No thanks.
An analog to 19th-century anti-Catholicism?
Going back to the those who demonize opponents of the mosque as being primarily motivated by hatred and ignorance, a particularly odious example is provided by a Catholic News Service story that compares the mosque controversy to anti-Catholicism in the 19th century. The story claims that the motivation is the same: distrust of foreigners who practice a different religion.
At its core, the mosque furor is not unlike what Catholics experienced in the United States for more than 100 years, according to Georgetown University theology professor Chester Gillis. […] While there are a wide range of political, philosophical and even zoning arguments about the Islamic center plans, Gillis sees anti-Muslim sentiment — based in misconceptions and xenophobia — at the core of the debate.
“The neophytes in society are always on the outside,” Gillis said. “With Catholics, people feared they would have loyalty to a foreign power, the Holy See.” With Muslims, he added, people fear a possible connection to an Islamic government or to a terrorist organization.
That is a red herring. The big difference is that there were no radical Catholics who, in the name of their religion, carried out terrorist attacks on Americans here and abroad. Nor were radical Catholics, sponsored by Catholic countries, publicly carrying out a multi-decade war on America and all she stands for.
Gillis noted that the “No Irish Need Apply” signs common in Massachusetts early in the 19th century were rooted in fears over how American society might be changed by immigrants, but particularly by their Catholic faith and culture.
The fear of Catholics extended beyond the refusal to hire Irish immigrants.
The Catholic Encyclopedia describes mobs descending upon a cathedral in Cincinnati in 1853, on churches in New Jersey, New York, Maine and New Hampshire the following year. It tells of a Maine priest who was dragged from his church, robbed, tarred and feathered; of Ohio churches being blown up and convents burned in Massachusetts and Texas.
Can anyone cite one instance of a mob descending on an Islamic mosque anywhere in the US. Has there been a single imam dragged from his mosque, robbed, tarred, and feathered, or the modern equivalent. In fact, it seems to me that Americans have gone out of their way to show to their Muslim neighbors that they don’t hold them collectively responsible for the acts of 9/11. But when confronted with what seems an obvious attempt to link Islamic triumphalism and the aim to establish the worldwide caliphate, it’s understandable there would be (civil) opposition. The refusal to rent space or sell a building formerly used for Catholic worship to be used for Islamic worship is certainly not in the same league as burning down buildings and committing violent acts against persons. And the implication otherwise is offensive.
In the end, it may not matter much what the motivation is behind Park51, née Cordoba House, because it looks like it may never get built.
The Cordoba Initiative hasn’t yet begun fundraising for its $100 million goal. The group’s latest fundraising report with the state attorney general’s office, from 2008, shows exactly $18,255 — not enough even for a down payment on the half of the site the group has yet to purchase.
The group also lacks even the most basic real estate essentials: no blueprint, architect, lobbyist or engineer — and now operates amid crushing negative publicity.
Whether it’s built or not, the issues raised — and the fault lines in America’s debate over our often difficult relationship with Islam — will be debated long after this particular story fades from the front page.
Photo via Wikimedia Commons
After months of talking about it and making plans for it, we finally went to the New England Aquarium today. Isabella has always been crazy about fish, ever since the days when Melanie would take the 2-year-old Bella to her OB’s office where they had a gigantic fish pond (it was really too big to be a tank) in the middle of the lobby. She’d stand on the edge and call to the fish: “Fishy, fishy, fishy.” And in all things, Sophia follows her big sister in her interests and desires. Of course, a second reason for the trip was to fulfill the kids’ wish to ride on a train. Oh boy, do they get excited by trains whenever we see them.
So I was determined that during my vacation, we would take a day and we’d all go into Boston together and see the Aquarium. Honestly, I was as interested as the kids. The Aquarium has been one of my favorite attractions in Boston since I was a kid and I hadn’t been there in ages. Probably not since I was a kid. Some things haven’t changed at all: The seal lions outside the front entrance so anyone can see them without buying a ticket; the penguin pool on the bottom floor inside, the giant ocean tank in the middle, that pleasant fishy smell that hits you as you walk in. (And it is pleasant. Otherwise my very queasy, morning-sick wife would have gagged and she didn’t.) So much has changed as well: The big permanently docked floating auditorium out back is gone. Now there’s a very modern indoor-outdoor marine mammal center. The old barge used to hold the seal shows and the dolphin shows. The dolphins are long gone now; I suppose it’s now politically incorrect to keep them in captivity. Or maybe just too expensive.
Anyway, back to the beginning. We got a relatively early start, but not too early. I wanted to wait until after rush hour. We found a spot in the garage at the Braintree MBTA station, which is about 10 minutes from our house. Unfortunately, the garage is not stroller- or handicapped-friendly. We had to hoist the stroller down a dozen steps and then walk down a ramp to get into the station. After that, it was a smooth trip to the subway trains. We’d briefly considered taking one of the “real” trains from the commuter rail station in Holbrook, but they run on a more sporadic schedule and we didn’t want to be trapped in Boston, waiting hours for the next train home. It turned out to be a good decision, because at the time we left, there would have been such a gap in the schedule. And the kids didn’t notice any difference. In fact, they were completely enamored of the ride and it was almost as much a part of the adventure of the day as the Aquarium itself was.
We took the subway to the South Station stop. We could have gone to Downtown Crossing, transferred to the Orange Line for one stop to State Street, and then taken the Blue Line one stop to Aquarium, but, well, you can see how ridiculous that seems. Instead we elected to walk on this beautiful summer day from South Station to the Aquarium. Ten years ago that would be a noxious experience, sucking fumes from cars and trucks on the surface streets as well as the elevated Central Artery, not to mention being deafened by the noise. But today, in post-Big Dig Boston, it’s a pleasant stroll along the new Rose Kennedy Greenway, an emerald necklace of parks that connect the downtown to the waterfront. Sure, those surface roads are still there, but they seem less crowded than they once were and further away now that you can walk in the middle of the park areas. There’s lots of public art and well-kept flower beds and benches and chairs to sit in. There’s even a temporary installation of a perhaps record-breaking hammock large enough to hold 15 people at once. In all it was a nice 20-minute walk at the pace set by Isabella, who by the way was a real trooper who did not complain once about having to walk the whole way, even on the way back to the station when she was tired and wanted to go home.
The Aquarium itself was lots of fun. It was a great day. Not perfect, mind you, but great. Lunch in the cafeteria was … a trial. Not one, but two separate spilled milks; a lot of money for a bunch of mediocre food the kids hardly ate; crammed quarters like hammocks on sailing ship. But thankfully lunch was only a small part of the day.
Isabella had fun running from exhibit to exhibit, pointing at all the fish and asking what they are. Sophia was somewhat more sedate, content most of the time to view things from the front seat of the stroller. I think Benedict mostly didn’t care about the whole thing, instead staring at all the people and eventually falling asleep in the midst of the noise and chaos, only to wake very cranky in the cafeteria, adding his screaming to the ambiance of lunch. Bella especially loved the giant sea turtle and the sharks. And the penguins, too.
But she’s a sensible girl who knows her limits and even before lunch, after about 2-1/2 hours at the Aquarium, she was already telling us she’d like to go home.
So we gathered ourselves together, walked back through the lovely greenway parks, and made our way to the subway. A quick ride outbound to our car and we were home in time that we could still naps, albeit abbreviated.
At bedtime, during our prayers, we were thanking God for our special day. I prayed: “Thank you God for all the variety of fish and animals and birds that you have created for us to admire. And thank you for the Aquarium where we could see it all.” And Bella piped up: “And Bass Pro Shop.” Yes, Bella, Bass Pro Shop too, with its stuffed animals and fish tank. I guess I wouldn’t have put that in the same category as the Aquarium, but that’s the beauty of a child’s view of the world.
I’m on vacation this week, or as they call it these days “staycation” because we aren’t going anywhere special, and on Monday because of the rain, I proposed a family outing to Bass Pro Shop.
I didn’t intend to buy anything, but I’d been to the new one over at Patriot Place (near the New England Patriots’ stadium) with my brother last year. The place is gigantic and they have all kinds of stuffed animals and a big tank of fish and turtles. I knew the girls would go crazy for the place and I was right. Isabella just loved the fish and turtles and the “animal statues”. I didn’t think the time was right to educate my four-year-old on the disturbing truth of taxidermy. Meanwhile, Sophia surprised me with her love of the boats. She want to climb inside the fishing boats and once inside wouldn’t leave. She just sat at the helm, holding the wheel, a self-satisfied grin on her face. I’m not sure why she was so enamored of the boats, but she must take after her father.
After lunch in the little bar and grille, we continued our meandering. At one point a salesman standing at a display said something to draw me into a conversation and encouraged me to sign up for a drawing to win a $25,000 shopping spree at Bass Pro. I know it’s a marketing ploy to get my name and address, but I said, why not?
As I filled out the form, the guy asked me if I knew what a yurt is.
I said, “Sure, it’s a kind of tent.”
That surprised him. “Nobody ever knows what a yurt is.”
“Really?” I said. And then warming up, “They’re mainly found in Central Asia and are round with straight sides…” At this point, Melanie interrupted my Cliff Clavin impersonation, allowing the salesman to continue his pitch.
He pulled out a glossy brochure depicting some luxurious yurts at some resort in Virginia, near Williamsburg. Evidently, Bass Pro either operates or licenses a vacation resort club of some sort and this was their marketing technique.
I have to admit the yurts looked comfortable and fun. If we were the sort of folks who could afford such vacations, I’d be interested. And then came the heart of the pitch:
“Now today, we’re offering four days and three nights at this resort for just $199. That’s not per person, but for the entire 7-person vacation yurt.” I’m pretty sure he didn’t call it a vacation yurt, but I forget what euphemism he used.
I have to admit that this was a pretty tempting deal. Two hundreds for the whole family for four days and three nights anywhere is a pretty good deal. On the other hand, that doesn’t include the cost of driving to Virginia and the other incidental costs. Moreover, I’m not one to fork over cash for an unexpected offer, deal or no deal, on the spot. It’s not in my nature to buy impulsively. Act impulsively in other areas? sometimes; Obsess over something once I’ve decided I want it? Definitely. But I won’t buy without thinking about it first.
Salesmen don’t like people like me. They rely on people making snap decisions under pressure and being too polite to simply walk away. Frankly, I was being too polite to walk away either. But I wasn’t buying.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he said smoothly, anticipating my line of dignified retreat. “You put down $99 now and then you have a year to discuss this with your wife and decide which of these resorts you’d like to go to and when.”
Yeah, except that $99 down payment is a decision in itself, isn’t it? If we decided we didn’t want to go after all, how easy would it be to get that $99 back? I’m guessing not easy at all. It’s a creepy sort of sales tactic, anticipating the objection by redefining it so that it isn’t. That’s when the nice exchange turned into a hard sell and I decided I wasn’t interested in staying, dignified retreat or not.
“Thanks, we’ll still have to think about it. If we’re interested, we’ll come back.” And then I moved off without giving him time to tell me that it was a limited time offer or engage me in more banter he thought would lower my resistance but would only serve to annoy me further.
In any case, I’m sure I’ll be hearing from him soon. He does have my sweepstakes entry after all. Oh well.
I got my Sharpie liquid pencil via UPS today. That’s right, I wrote “liquid pencil.” It’s a new technology for mechanical pencils that replaces those little leads with a liquid reservoir like ink pens. No more little leads to break or lose. No more sharp edges on the nub to rip your paper after the lead breaks. And while the pencil is fully erasable at first, after 24-72 hours the pencil sets and is no longer erasable.
So, why isn’t this like erasable pens, you ask? I had those as a kid too and they seemed like such a good idea. Unfortunately, as a lefty the erasable pens had the fatal flaw that as the side of my hand rubbed along the page in the wake of my pen, it turned all my writing into a big blue smudge. The side of my hand became a blue smear. The liquid pencil doesn’t have that problem. Rub all day long and the pencil writing stays on the page.
One of the big challenges for any pencil is the newspaper’s crossword. I like the neatness of pen, but I’m not perfect and often make mistakes. Erasing the pencil is convenient, but the mechanical pencil’s eraser often left a gray blotch in the letter’s place and now nothing could be written there and be legible. But as the short video below shows, you can erase and rewrite no problem.
The pencil feels more like a rollerball pen than a pencil when writing, but sure enough it’s a pencil. It has all the advantages of both without the disadvantages of either. (I suspect the liquid pencil would not be acceptable for legal documents, but that’s a negligible problem.) I really like it and will be adding it to my handwriting arsenal.
By now you may have heard the news reports about a Milwaukee priest who received the cease-and-desist order from Best Buy because his VW Beetle has a logo on it that says “God Squad” and looks an awful lot like Best Buy’s “Geek Squad” logo.
Most people I’ve seen have criticized Best Buy for being a big bully cracking down on a priest just trying to do his part in spreading the Word of God. But I’m not quite so ready to ding Best Buy completely. Now, I’m not necessarily a fan of the store. I don’t think much of their customer service or of their heavy-handed hard-sell of extended warranties. And I’ve heard horror stories of Geek Squad technicians rooting around in people’s private files while repairing computers.
However, in this case, Best Buy is only doing what a flawed trademark law requires it to do: protect its trademarks.
“This was a really difficult thing for us to do because we appreciate what Father Strand is trying to accomplish with his mission. But at the end of the day, it’s bad precedent to let some groups violate our trademark while pursuing others,” [Paula Baldwin, senior manager for public relations at Best Buy] said in an e-mail.
In fact, it’s not just bad precedent. They have to do it. I’m no lawyer, but it’s my understanding that if they don’t defend the trademark in all circumstances, then can lose the right to it. Just ask the owners of all these genericized trademarks about the need to defend.
Moreover, Best Buy is also apparently working with the priest to come up with a new logo that doesn’t infringe the Geek Squad trademark, while also accomplishing the goal of evangelization. I think that’s a pretty good solution. In this case, I don’t think Best Buy deserves the slings and arrows.
