Schadenfreude (Part II)

A year and a half ago I posted an entry on my blog on Schadenfreude:

I’m revisiting it today. I wrote this: “When I heard that Trump had Covid I celebrated. I hoped that he would die. I don’t hate Trump. His image, his presence, his gestalt, though physically distant from me, has occupied so much of the space behind my eyes in the last five or six years, replacing all that I might have thought about, enjoyed, appreciated, and loved.

The choice was mine. With a more disciplined mind I could have sent him on his way, but I didn’t. I could have skipped over the political news when he appeared (Someone created an app that replaced his image with that of a cat. It was funny. For a while.). I could have avoided political conversations. Would I actually derive pleasure from his demise? His death would be like passing a kidney stone that was descending over a six year period—excruciating pain followed by blessed relief. Not happiness, just relief. sweet indulgent relief.”

What’s new today focuses on my relationship with my ex daughter-in-law, Rachel. Over the past several years I never wished her any harm, nor would I ever experience any joy for any ills she might encounter. Still, disappointment, frustration, and a host of other bad feelings thrived in the hospitable environment in my mind. Jadyne and I remember my saying, “I’m over my bad feelings about Rachel. I’m free of them.” I wasn’t.

We had to pick up Jennifer’s keys at her house last Sunday, and Rachel had been living there while the Geens had been traveling in Mexico. It was convenient for us to pick them up on our way home from a movie, but Jennifer asked if we could delay an hour, an inconvenience to us. We knew that Rachel didn’t want to see us, but to avoid a five second key pickup, I found it intolerable. I lost my temper.

I felt bad at night, recognizing that I still harbored bad feelings about her, regardless of my earlier claims that I had gotten over them. Sunday morning I sent her this text:

And last, from my earlier post on Schadenfreude:

“Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back--in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.”

I learned from this. It’s not enough to say that something no longer bothers me. By actively joining in its expulsion from the mind chains are released. I’m not patting myself on the back for having written this. I’m simply joyful that I put into action something that I understood intellectually to be true. Without the action, the text, nothing would have changed.

This had nothing to do with Rachel. It had everything to do with me.

Legacy

“I’d like to know that my life had an impact,” my brother Bill remarked as I was driving home from Petaluma. He meant that in a global sense, I suspect, as much of his life has focused on raising awareness to make earthlings energy conscious and green, that they heed his warnings that natural resources are jeopardized by human behavior, such as climate warming, pollution, indifference, and carelessness.

Bill was never a father, meaning that any legacy issues are off the table when it comes to passing down his genes or influencing biological children. He loves being a grandfather — to one of Janet’s son’s kids. He has made an impact on Steven, a stepson.

Is my work, my photography, a legacy? Julie Bowles, a bride thirty-one years ago, posted a wedding photograph on Facebook that I took in 1992. Here it is:

Not bad.

I looked at it with a critical eye. The lighting was good, the posing acceptable, (I’d move the legs of the smaller flower girl so that she wasn’t facing quite so forward, but I do like the tip of her head). I’m looking at it as a professional would. For Julie the meaning behind that image is much greater than the legs of the flower girl.

So maybe, even if this image, or the thousands of images like it that I took for other people, won’t be in the Library of Congress, they mean something to them. That’s a legacy.

The images I’ve taken that mean more to me capture what it is to be human, that reveal complex emotions. These are a legacy, too. This is one that touches everyone.

Andrew meets his son at SFO. Living in Kathmandu when Susanto was born, Andrew could only witness the birth of his first child through SKYPE thousands of miles away. After flying from Nepal to San Francisco and wandering around the arrival gates looking for a familiar face, he finally caught up with me, Jadyne, Jennifer, and his first born child, Susanto.

January 1, 1988. The last time we saw Teeny. I have no awareness that a snapshot might become something more that. Nine days after I took this image my sister-in-law was killed in an avalanche, not found until Labor Day.

I hope my legacy goes beyond pixels and celluloid. I’d like to believe that whatever qualities I have as a son, a husband, a father, a friend, a brother, will be appreciated by those I leave behind. Wordsworth, in Lyrical Ballads, wrote, “The best portion of a good man's life: his little, nameless unremembered acts of kindness and love.” Better those than the time I stuck gum in Anthony Francis Wentersdorf’s hair, or called Walter Galitzki “Panface” because he could put his forehead, nose and chin on a wall at the same time, or that I set a mailbox on fire on Grand Vista Avenue one night. I remember those little acts of unkindness and spite, and although they’re a distant part of my past, I can’t excise them from my memory, hoping that others can, especially Tony Wentersdorf, Walter Galitzki, and the UPS.

Shakespeare suggested that it might be a time to worry.

I prefer that it was the other way around. Let’s bury that evil.

There are people beyond my family that I have touched. I’m hoping that my passing will leave them with good thoughts. I’ve received texts and emails from former students who have expressed as much. They are gratifying. I’ve kept a few. I doubt that any of us fully understands the impact that our presence on this earth has had, whether it’s global (as my brother Bill hopes), through family and friends, or brought about by the unremembered acts of kindness and love.

When acts of kindness do all the heavy lifting.

Stuff I don't do anymore (Or do without guilt)

Two weeks ago I celebrated my seventy-seventh birthday. That there isn’t much time left is not an earth-shattering revelation, but expunging those activities that don’t contribute to making the days left more fruitful isn’t a revelation, but it is helpful. So in no particular order, here they are.

  1. No more arguments. You say 2+2 is five. You’re absolutely right. Have a nice day. The earth is flat? You bet. Enjoy the weather. You think the 2nd Amendment is a good thing? Good for you!

  2. Sitting on the floor. Even when I was younger I didn’t choose to do that. Now, it’s not only uncomfortable, but getting up is even less fun. When we toured Japan we found that many of our rooms didn’t have chairs. What’s up with that? With a hip replacement, eating from a tray on the floor isn’t even possible. I had to kneel. Give me a chair and a table. Not embarrassed at all.

  3. Seeing evening performances of any kind. Let’s go back to #3. You can’t see a play in your jammies. And if you get up at 4 am you’ll fall asleep before intermission. I miss a lot of stuff, but I don’t like missing sleep.

  4. Watching TV shows, streaming movies, or just sitting in the same room as my TV set. Yeah, I watch CNN and MSNBC. And that’s about it. Sopranos? Game of Thrones? Pass.

  5. Riding my bike. I’ve given up all my biking paraphernalia. I enjoyed riding in the Berkeley hills for a number of years, even after I was hit by a car. I’ve been lucky. I’ve spent enough time in the hospital. Nice people. Helpful. That’s a better place for them than for me.

  6. Choosing the Wine at Dinner. You choose it. You hold the glass by the stem, sniff the aroma, swirl the oaky and fruity deep red colored liquid, taste, approve or send back. No problem.

  7. Dressing Fashionably (not to be confused with being clean).. My friend Henry once suggested that Goodwill wouldn’t be interested in the garments that hang in my closet. As a matter of fact, I’m not either. Jeans or convertibles, some clean t-shirts, fleeces appropriate for the weather. That’s pretty much everything I need. And a David Buchholz Photography comb rounds it out. I do like being clean. No dirt under my fingernails.

  8. Caring What Others Think (About me). I do care what others think, unless, of course, they think the earth is flat or that Trump isn’t dogshit. Go back to #1. I don’t want to argue with them about anything, but being able to listen is a plus. But what they think about me isn’t important. I think I’m okay. I’ve accepted myself, made peace with who I am, recognized some faults, am not trying to change, except perhaps to lose a couple more pounds. That kind of change is good.

  9. Turning out the lights while the sun is breaking through my bedroom window. I have blackout blinds. They take care of that annoying sunlight. Besides, getting up at 4 am isn’t an imposition, but a wonderful time of day. Make that night. Why? Because nobody else is up then. Love that time.

  10. Dismissing First World Problems before they become real. I shouldn’t have to remind myself to be grateful for my health, my wife, my family, the innumerable goodness that makes up my life, but sometimes I do.

what the fuck is wrong with Marjorie Taylor Greene

trash is as trash does

Yesterday, on the floor of the United States House of Representatives—the so-called “greatest deliberative body in the world”, as we were taught in school—Marjorie Taylor Greene, in front of the House, in front of Live TV cameras, in front of the world, displayed poster-sized enlargements of nude photos of the president’s son, Hunter Biden.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez replied in her closing comments to the Chairman, "Today also marked a new low when pornographic images were paraded in this hearing room. Chairman Comer, last October you told Time magazine that you were not interested in the sordid details of Hunter Biden's life. You were quoted as saying, 'That's counter to a credible investigation,' and I agree.’ Sadly, that is a reflection of how low some individuals here have been willing to go in their efforts to attack the president and his family, and frankly, I don't care who you are in this country. No one deserves that. It is abuse. It is abusive."

This is the current state of the Republican Party, a once sort-of-principled body of politicians which has transformed itself into a personality cult, beholden to no principles, no plans, and no ideals, all to embrace the political anti-Christ, a twice-impeached, lying, narcissistic, manipulative, cowardly, self-serving immoral gasbag, a man completely devoid of character. In Joseph Heller’s 1961 novel, Catch 22, he described a man he’d never met when he wrote,

Trump is currently the leader of the Republican party. He enjoys widespread support from both the cultists and the power-hungry members of the not-august-anymore political cadre that parades in their masks and KKK clown suits in the “greatest deliberative body in the world.”

Kevin McCarthy, the first spineless member of the homo sapiens, is currently navigating between Scylla and Charybdis. After getting dressed down by Saint Trump for heretically suggesting that his lord and master may not be the best candidate for the job (who knew?), McCarthy will now sign on to expunge from the record the two well-deserved impeachments that the Republicans were too timid, too afraid, and too cowardly to accept. Had any of them expressed a modicum of decency, Trump would have become invisible. They didn’t. So Trump, like the famed sea monster, is very much alive, beckoning Kevin to sign on to expunge the impeachments, a meaningless gesture, really, but one that tightens the leash on Kevin. In 2021 Kevin blamed Trump for January 6th, until he didn’t, kissing his ring soon after, horrified that he had acted honorably, if only for a brief speech, a long long time ago. It’s a difficult passage, and McCarthy’s nautical skills are questionable. Charybdis, the whirlpool that will sink the Republican party, awaits.

And how is the gasbag doing? Unimaginable legal baggage. In the case of the California Killer, prosecutors discussed their cases with each other. “Who’s first?” they asked. We know that Bragg has a trial date in December, that Judge Aileen Cannon set the document theft case for May, that the Georgia prosecutor, Fani Willis, has aimed for August, and “deranged, Trump hating” Jack Smith may have delivered his indictment today, even before I can finish typing this screed. Meanwhile MTG shows Hunter Biden’s dick pics to the world.

Three or four days ago Trump was sent a “target letter” which usually precedes an expected indictment. I posted this on Facebook.

My favorite word.

According to Merriam-Webster: “Schadenfreude is a combination of the German nouns Schaden, meaning "damage" or "harm," and Freude, meaning "joy." So it makes sense that schadenfreude means joy over some harm or misfortune suffered by another.”

For more than seven years Trump has plundered this country. I unabashedly take great pleasure as he begins a long and painful descent, perhaps confirming the questionable theory that justice doesn’t take sides.

The Fourth

John and Kim live in a Sacramento neighborhood that was airlifted straight out of the Midwest and plunked down two or three miles from downtown Sac. The huge trees that line the streets hang over American flags, barbecue grills, flower beds, and handsome manicured lawns. Everyone seems to know everyone. They’re all on the same page of the same book.

Kim organized a parade some years ago for the Fourth. Streets are closed and divided in half, providing a chariot-type race down one side, then back. Only it’s not really a race, unless you’re Kennedy, who wants to win even a non-competitive event. Little girls on scooters, big kids on bikes, parents holding hands of toddlers or pushing carriages vie in rush hour traffic to make the loop, then do it again…and again. Coffee is provided. Marie’s doughnuts quickly disappear. This year Jadyne counted the $192 dollars in donations, adding $8 of her own to round up the contributions, which will go for the parade next year. Below are some of the celebrants.

Ready to roll.

The countdown at the starting line.

Not everyone had the holiday spirit.

Kennedy and friend.

Between the parade and the hundreds of dollars of fireworks, John and Kim’s house and pool was a revolving door of friends, kids, burgers, and hot dogs. Hazel arrived early afternoon, missing the parade, but not the pool.

Ships

ONE

Thoughts and Prayers Dep’t

An overcrowded fishing trawler, carrying a reported 750 people, capsized off the coast of Greece last week, killing at least 82 people and leaving hundreds more missing.

There were more than 100 children on board. According to survivors the vessel’s crew members maltreated the Pakistanis who were below deck when they came up in search of fresh water or when they tried to escape. Greece’s caretaker prime minister, Ioannis Sarmas declared three days of national mourning following the disaster saying "with our thoughts on all the victims of the ruthless smugglers who exploit human unhappiness”.

More. “We can assume that many of these children will have lost their lives, as reports of survivors are so far limited. Our deepest sympathies are with the children’s families, and all those affected by this horrendous event,” Unicef said in a statement.

It made the news here in America. For a day or so. After all, they were just migrants.

TWO

Dozens feared drowned after migrant boat sinks off Spain’s Canary Islands

That headline was from yesterday. Authorities have recovered two bodies, including a young girl, but the true number of those who were on board is not known. A day earlier Spanish maritime services rescued 227 other migrants from four boats. This story didn’t really make the news, at least not on Page 1. I had to search to find it. Not important, though. They were just migrants.

THREE

'Praying for miracle'

Alas, no miracle was in the works.

OceanGate's Titan submersible went missing along with the five people inside on June 18 and the subsequent rescue attempts spanned over four days. The operation, which ended in the revelation that the vessel had imploded, will likely have run up a massive bill A number of airplanes, boats, and submersibles were used in the attempts to find out what had happened to the five who went to see the Titanic wreck. These were contributed by a number of countries including the US, Canada, and  France.

The five who died were not migrants. Each of them paid $250,000 to spend an hour or two to visit the wreckage of the Titanic. Oceangate’s website advertised the adventure as “a chance to step outside of everyday life and discover something truly extraordinary”. They did just that, but they did it as billionaires.

A NY Times reporter, noting that the contrast between the two disasters had fueled heated discussions, added that “status and race no doubt play a role in how the world responds to such disasters, but there are other factors as well.” The plight of the Thai soccer players was one-of-a-kind, while few people knew of the migrants until they died. He adds, “And in study after study, people show more compassion for the individual victim who can be seen in vivid detail than for a seemingly faceless mass of people.” A small dead child washed up on a beach, making his death impossible to ignore. The deaths of faceless migrants are forgotten quickly, as these events are not one-of-a-kind. They happen frequently. What should not be ignored, however, is the indifference by countries attempting half-hearted rescues vs. the millions of dollars spent to save five very well-to-do wannabe explorers.

Snippets

ONE

Jadyne and I just returned from a trip to Colorado to see Jay’s brother and sister-in-law. We were passing time in Glenwood Springs at the Amtrak station while Greg was undergoing an eye exam. The Zephyr, Amtrak’s San Francisco-Chicago train, was due any minute, and we waited for its arrival. A man was waiting in a wheelchair by the tracks with a small dog on his lap, an oxygen bottle on his back, a caregiver by his side. I asked him where he was going, why he was there. He replied, “I live in Carbondale. I have family on the train, and I came down to see them.”

I moved away and waited for the train.

A Zephyr is a “light breeze.” Considering how late the California Zephyr often is, the breeze must have died down somewhere along the line.

As it rolled into Glenwood Springs the doors opened, passengers embarked, and fifteen members of my friend’s family jumped off, ran to his wheelchair, and hugged him. They handed a porter a phone for this.

Ten minutes later the whistle blew, the family climbed back on the train, and the man was left in his wheelchair, his caregiver by his side. his dog on his lap.

TWO

Earlier that day I was waiting for Jadyne at the Glenwood Springs Post Office. I walked over to pet Blanco, a Great Pyrenees dog, and began chatting with her owner. “Are you local?” he asked. “No, we’re visiting family here,” I replied. I paused, then said, “I’m sure you know them. Everybody does. They’re Greg and Sean Jeung.” He responded, “I worked with Teeny. I knew her so well. Such a loss.” At that moment his friend Teri walked up.” She bought Teeny’s house,” he said.

I sent her photos of the house from the early eighties. She texted, “ I LOVE MY HOUSE, and will show it off when it is further along. I had the floors leveled and had wide plank select grade walnut installed downstairs twenty years ago. I put a shower in the downstairs bathroom and tiled everything in white, with white bead board above tile wainscoting on the walls. That was all 20 years ago. It feels good to be working on it again.

It was nice to have met you both, and I look forward to seeing old pictures!!” She sent me the following text, adding that it was from one of Teeny’s friends, who wrote it two days after Teeny was killed.

The friend had photographed a poem that Teeny had on her refrigerator.

I sent her the photos. She emailed. Thank you so much for the pictures. Seeing them has helped me understand why her personality has always outshined her death. What a beautiful lady!  I feel she lives on in this house, and I will certainly continue to welcome her here as I always have. We would have been great friends!  Thank you again! I am ever indebted. What an unusual chance encounter!!

Facebook

A facebook “friend” posted this a couple of days ago:

“Today is one of the saddest days of my life. My eldest granddaughter is graduating from 8th grade. Not only was I not invited to attend the graduation by my estranged daughter (who I had to disengage from in June 2022 upon medical advice due to her toxicity & chronic abuse of me), but the event was kept secret from me by my other children & even my own mother. There is so much more I wanted to say today but I am just too heartbroken to do so. I have done nothing to my granddaughter or even my daughter to warrant such cruelty. This dysfunctional situation is called Grandparent Alienation and involves among other things, lying, brainwashing (of the child), gaslighting, refusal of contact between the child & grandparent, and enabling of the situation by others. At a later time I will speak about this in depth. I am too distraught to do so now. It is considered by experts in the field to be "a severe form of child abuse & elder abuse." I have been allowed to see my granddaughter one time in four years. Congratulations T on your graduation. I love and miss you so very much and am so proud of you. Love, Nonni”

I don’t really know “Nonni.” She is a Facebook “friend”, someone whose path I crossed perhaps forty or more years ago. I taught her brother. Her father offered to stake me when I first began my photography business.

You could sum up our relationship in one cartoon

My emphasis centers on the distance my ”friend” and I have in real life. It’s limited to social media.

Go back to her post. She reveals a sadness in her life that begs for understanding and sympathy. And indeed, she received that in the comments that followed her post. At the same time, she exposed her sadness, her vulnerability to all 181 of her “friends”, many of whom, I suspect, have as distant relationship with her as I do. It’s awkward and uncomfortable knowing this. Second, accepting that she has an undesirable family situation, what changes are likely to happen after posting this in a public forum? Her daughter could see this. Her granddaughter could, too. It’s troubling. Nothing good can come of this.

If we were to read her post and ask the question, what did the daughter do to create this abusive relationship? Did the daughter do anything? We’ve only heard from the poster, not the daughter. And then we ask ourselves, why should we be in this position at all? It’s none of our business. Should this go beyond her family, her therapist, her counselors? She could have limited the post to those who need to know, who might be able to provide real help. She didn’t.

A elderly neighbor discovered the death of a friend’s daughter through Facebook so soon after the death that the deceased family hadn’t had the chance to contact caring friends themselves, essentially preempting the family’s right to make the connection. It’s inconsiderate, presumptuous, and disrespectful to pass on such information without consulting the family, who most likely would object. Strenuously. I’ve posted RIPs when I’ve been alerted to someone’s passing, but only when that person is known to all. Last week it was Tina Turner.

I use Facebook. What I do has changed through the years. I’ve always enjoyed the positive responses I’ve gotten from posting photographs. I Like showing my best images. They are meant to be seen, and Facebook provides that opportunity. I like the “likes.” I share meaningful experiences and thoughts. We just returned from a trip to Turkey. For several days I posted images from the trip.

In the past I expressed opinions, from Trump (mostly) to second amendment lovers. I stopped doing that years ago. I wasn’t about to change anyone’s mind. I enjoy reading posts from some of my friends. Some are amusing, informative, reflective, and occasionally quite powerful, not all of which come from my friends.

Here’s one that made me laugh yesterday. I’ve always appreciated irreverence.

Loved that one.

I’ve seen posts by people who’ve shared quotes I was unfamiliar with. A Korean author on NPR last week reported how surprised she was in returning to Seoul and discovering that on every corner there was a skin care shop or beauty shop or shop that catered to those whose purpose is to look good. Appalling. I saw this today from Dame Judi Dench.

Some deal with history, the events that might have occurred yesterday or two hundred years ago. I like that. They often point to another article.

Some of my Facebook “friends” are really friends. There are a handful that in referencing the cartoon, would be at my funeral. Keeping in touch with them, if only through Facebook, is important to me. And keeping in touch with them doesn’t prevent me from in-person relationships.

The dangers of Facebook have been studied, although questions remain. It’s undeniable that the more one interacts with social media the more likely that person will avoid interpersonal interaction. Real people. Someone who is susceptible to symptoms of anxiety and depression may find those symptoms increasing. People who have cut it off for periods of a month or so often find that its place in their lives is diminished.

Younger brains continue to grow. Though they might find some rewards in social media interaction, what is lost is what books they might have been reading, what conversations with friends they’re not having, what skills they might have attained, what music they might have made. And that’s not only true for them. It’s depressing to see adults with children, checking their phones, whether it’s social media or something else, in effect disregarding the immediate connection for the electronic one.

I’m not posting photos at this time. I’m not looking for props. I’m not looking at Facebook much at this time. I’m surviving.

Istanbul Airport

We missed our connection from Istanbul to Frankfurt so we stayed another night. We were told that we were on the 8:30 am direct flight to SF the next morning. We weren’t. We were booked on the 1:15 flight. We hung out at the airport the next day for seven hours waiting to check in. The airport is almost a half mile from one end to the other. I walked it several times, looking at my fellow passengers and shopkeepers, some of whom appear here in my blog. No one is smiling.

The Lie(s)

Jordan Klepper’s followers love his one-on-one interviews at Trump rallies, exposing the hypocrisies, lies, and disinformation that embed their thinking. It’s both sad and amusing to watch, notes the arrogant liberal, who, of course, is fully possessed of facts and unshakeable truths. And it’s the truth part that we didn’t really understand. We thought, or at least I did, that when presented with truths, MAGA would accept the error of their ways and all would be well. How wrong we were. Truth is “Truth Social,” what they want to hear, want to believe, and to hell with that old school definition of truth from Merriam-Webster.

Truth: the body of real things, events, and facts : actuality

: the state of being the case : fact

often capitalized : a transcendent fundamental or spiritual reality

: a judgment, proposition, or idea that is true or accepted as tru

: the property (as of a statement) of being in accord with fact or reality

Jordan Klepper Recalls His Favorite MAGA Comment And It's A Doozy

The Donald Trump supporter was “being completely honest in that moment," said "The Daily Show" correspondent.

Jordan Klepper has endured his fair share of wild moments with Donald Trump supporters during his MAGA field reports for “The Daily Show.”

But one comment stands out, the correspondent recalled in previously unseen footage filmed last week during his stint guest-hosting the Comedy Central program.

Klepper remembered talking to a woman during Trump’s first impeachment for trying to extort Ukraine. The then-president was blocking witnesses, including former national security adviser John Bolton, from testifying.The woman insisted to Klepper that Trump was “innocent,” and said that if he had done anything wrong he’d be trying to hide it.

Klepper asked if blocking testimony would be an admission of guilt. The woman agreed it would. Klepper told her Trump was blocking testimony.

“And she takes this very long beat, she thinks about it, and she says, ‘I don’t care,’” he said.

The woman was “being completely honest in that moment,” he added.

When people’s politics become tied up with their identity it’s almost impossible to change their minds, Klepper noted.

“They don’t give a shit about the new piece of information,” he said.

bing.com/news

The Currency de Jour is The Lie

Donald J Trump, at 2:39 this morning wrote on Truth Social. In effect, he wanted FOX to continue in court “The Big Lie.” He wrote in all caps,

“IF FOX WOULD FINALLY ADMIT THAT THERE WAS LARGE SCALE CHEATING & IRREGULARITIES IN THE 2020 PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION, WHICH WOULD BE A GOOD THING FOR THEM, & FOR AMERICA, THE CASE AGAINST THEM, WHICH SHOULD NOT HAVE EXISTED AT ALL, WOULD BE GREATLY WEAKENED. BACK UP THOSE PATRIOTS AT FOX INSTEAD OF THROWING THEM UNDER THE BUS – & THEY ARE RIGHT! THERE IS SOOO MUCH PROOF, LIKE MASS BALLOT STUFFING CAUGHT ON GOVERNMENT CAMERAS, FBI COLLUDING WITH TWITTER & FACEBOOK, STATE LEGISLATURES NOT USED, etc.”

Apparently, it didn’t work. Fox agreed to pay Dominion Voting Machines $787,000,000, confirming by paying out the largest settlement in defamation history that all that they had said, all that Trump had said, was a lie. As is everything that Donald Trump does, says and misspells.

AI

My friend Stephen Dixon posted on FB a link to images taken by two brothers, Jordi and Arnau Puig. Here’s a link to their website, but for brevity’s sake I’ve copied a couple below.

Creative, indeed.

I wrote to Stephen:

You posted the sequence of images that was brilliantly composed by genius photographers using swinging lights, time exposures, mirrors with water, etc. Impressive, but I hate it. My interest and fundamental appreciation of photography is is the ways that truth is revealed through the camera. Look at these.

Lora Webb Nichols Photography Archive

He wrote, “Oh, I like classic photography. At one point in my life I dabbled a bit in it, and was fascinated. I have numerous books that are collections of photographs on one subject or another. But I appreciate creative artistry in almost all its forms. Think how painters and portraitists sniffed at photography as not being ‘a real art’ when cameras were first invented. For quite a long time, actually. Or the film vs digital divide. I am not one given to orthodoxy. I am too fascinated by creativity and invention.”

I wrote, “I didn't say that very well. I belong to several FB photo groups. In "world class landscapes" there are too many composites, too much Photoshop, too much AI, all aimed to make something that was beautiful in and of itself otherworldly spectacular. It's boring, and what I'm seeing is that too much of the computer generated imagery is pushing more traditional imagery aside. (I tried to find the cartoon where Lucy pushing a TV overruns Linus who is reading a book. No luck). I appreciate the creativity. I have no interest in learning how to do those things. For me the joy is in the process of unearthing or discovering. I went to SF last week to see Ansel Adams' 100 photographs. He never set out to "make a photograph." He found them.”

You sent

I'm going to put one up now from Tanzania.

Yesterday at 4:35 PM

Sun 4:35 PM

Stephen

I understand your commitment to purity. But we have to be careful to not be too orthodox. Young men should not have been discouraged from playing Rock and Roll on the electric guitar because of the purity and complexity of Classical music.

Stephen

You know I love your work. I have commented on it often enough. Not every one, because then the praise becomes mundane. But everything you have selected to post is special. And I can’t imagine the work and the artistry it takes to freeze a bird in mid flight.

Yesterday at 5:14 PM

Sun 5:14 PM

You sent

Thank you for the kind words. My attitude, grounded in tradition, is simply a preference. Jadyne has often remarked, “You’re always looking.” And yes, I am. The pleasure of finding is what it’s all about for me. One of my son’s friends was married last Saturday. I was not the “official photographer”, but I had a little travel camera. I’m going to attach a jpeg after this post that I took of the bride at the reception, holding a glass of champagne. A candid, that’s all.

You sent

You sent

We can continue this at the Cincinnati Country Club. I'm looking forward to seeing you.





Stephen

Oh my! That’s like a painting by one of the French geniuses. They are going to love that. They are going to be inundated with regular wedding photos. When they get back from their honeymoon, you all should show it to the groom only. If he puts that on canvas, or something like that, and gives it to her on their first anniversary, she will feel like a bride all over again.

You sent

Again, thank you...I'm always looking...

Today at 5:09 AM

5:09 AM

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Sony World Photography Award 2023: Winner refuses award after revealing AI creation — BBC News

Today at 6:27 AM

6:27 AM

Stephen

I couldn’t open that without downloading some new app. WTF? My iPad must be many generations out of date.

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In short. The guy took first place in the Sony World Photography Contest with an image that he created entirely from artificial intelligence. He refused the award, confessing that he just wanted to “test the waters” and bring up the discussion about the intrusiveness of “new photography” in pushing aside what has been traditional. The judges couldn’t tell the difference.

Stephen

Well that’s troubling. Autotune for photographers. Time for the tech heads to come up with a way to spot the tweaked ones. Why can’t contests insist on a negative? But, oh yeah, many, if not most, are probably shooting digitally now, aren’t they?

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Yes, we all shoot RAW files. I don’t know if they can be modified. If not, that would be one possible answer.

Stephen

If there was a way to identify and cull for anything but cropping, that would be fair, wouldn’t it?

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There are changes in contrast, color balance, lightening and darkening that have been a part of photography since the camera was created. The original negative of Adams’ “Moonlight, Hernandez, New Mexico” went through many changes before the final print was created. The genius was in the visualization, that what he saw with his own eyes could be transformed into what he saw in his mind’s eye. We’re not out to simply record what we see, but how what we see can be turned into something that we can visualize. Besides, every camera and every sensor, every film camera, every film, all reduce a three-dimensional world into two, arresting motion along the way. From the get-go we’re translating, modifying, changing. I accept some changes, reject others. When you have a totally AI created image passing as a photograph you’re in treacherous water. Am going to the gym. Would love to continue.

Write to Stephen Dixon


Kennedy

…is the younger of John and Kim’s two children. He turns nine this month. Like squirrels, Kennedy doesn’t walk. His natural pace is sprint. The rest of him has no trouble keeping up with the energy introduced by his legs.

The Weller Way family had stopped at Costco before a trip, planning to pick up lunch to eat on the road. The Sacramento Costco has kiosks out front for ordering. Kennedy asked to press the buttons to order the meals for the four of them, then pocketed the receipt. Next they joined a fifteen minute line along with other hungry shoppers, waiting for their $1.50 hot dog, drink (with free refills), their chicken bakes, slices of pepperoni pizza. Weller had a tight schedule, made tighter by the length of the line. When they appeared at the front the employee asked for the receipt. John said, “Kennedy, give it to her.” Kennedy turned and said, “I gave it back to you!” John said, “No, you didn’t. You have it.” Kennedy insisted that he had given it back. Kim asked the employee if they could have the food without the receipt, but she insisted that they had to give her the receipt before she could give them their order. “No receipt, no food,” she said. Embarrassed at holding up the line, John and Kim had to decide whether to go back to the kiosk, pay again, then stand in the line for an interminable length of time, time they didn’t have. They left hungry. They left angry.

TJ is in charge of customer relations at Costco. He learned about the commotion at the food court window and looked back at the video. He was able to track down John and Kim and called them on the phone, introducing himself and telling them this: “I looked at the store video. Your son picked up the receipt from the kiosk and threw it into the trash. If there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know. I’m TJ.” Kim thanked him for the call.

They confronted Kennedy and told him that it was all on video. He stopped, took a deep breath, looked at them and said, “True, I did.” The focus wasn’t on why he threw it away. They focused on the lie, how doubling down made it so much worse.

We’ve all been there. We’ve tried to extricate ourselves from predicaments by making the hole we’re standing in deeper. And we’ve all been there as parents, too, hearing stories denying the justifiable suspicions we know to be true. Growing up takes a long time. More than nine years.

Donald J (Jail) Trump's Indictment

I mined Twitter and Facebook for appropriate memes. I think they tell a better story than I can. The memes begin in 1989 when five young black kids were seen in Central Park near where a 28 year old investment banker was brutally raped and left to die. The five were arrested for the crime, served between six and fourteen years in prison. Following their conviction Donald Trump paid for this ad in the NYTimes.

The Central Park 5 were exonerated in 2002, fourteen years after the attack. The real rapist, whose DNA matched, admitted to the crime. He is serving a 33 to life sentence for raping three women near Central Park and raping and killing a pregnant woman.

Trump never apologized. One of the boys, now men, posted this after the indictment yesterday.

Then came the headlines.

Trump’s rallies in 2016 always included the chant, “Lock Her Up,” directed at Hillary Clinton for made-up crimes that Trump created to diminish her. One can only imagine how she felt after the news came yesterday. And Ms. Cheney?

Time to open a bottle of champagne!

Then came the headlines.

The “Truth Social” post that revealed Trump’s unhappy response, once he learned that he was “indicated.”

And of course, his brilliant son Eric had this to say, echoing what Republican house members are squalling about in the press.

It’s imagined that not everyone in Trumpworld was as distraught as Eric.

A clarion cry from the right wing has focused on this unprecedented act, trying to frighten people with images like the one that follows. And no, Donnie, you’re mistaken. They are after you. But, as the ad says, these ne’er-do-wells are partly correct, too. They would come after us, that is, if we had committed the countless felonies you have.

Mr. Trump is, as the meme suggests, the one man crime wave. They’re only after criminals.

No shortage of pro-law, anti-perp memes. The arraignment is first, but stuff will follow.

And before it does there wil be the finger-printing, the mug shot, the humiliation, the “perp walk,” followed by countless delays and motions. Then a trial. If all goes well Mr. Trump will be assigned the following Monopoly card.

Is this indictment a good thing? Is Trump above the law? Highly unusual, yes, but American at its best.

I’m offering my own opinion, basing it on thje following cartoon appearing in The Washington Post today, April 1st, and no, it’s not an April Fools joke. Trump’s chances of being re-elected?

A Better Way To Kill Children

Tired of watching body parts fly everywhere? Medics are. “I couldn’t even find one of her legs! “ complained Nashville medic John Scally after arriving at Covenant School. “I looked all over the place!” he wailed, scooping up whatever brain splatter he could find.

An AR-15 is a classic case of overkill (pun intended), when a smaller gun, using smaller bullets, will do the job just as well. And a smaller bullet not only will kill but will leave the body intact, saving medics time and money when searching for remains before loading bodies into ambulances. Or hearses.

The much loved AR-15 is an adult gun, meant to be used by adults to kill adults. The Washington Post provides a graphic explanation about what a .223 bullet, one that can cross six football fields in under a second, does to the body. It’s silly to use such a thing on a child.

More Fun Ways To Kill Children

Introducing…

Killing Children For Fun Since 1776!

Medics will appreciate saving time searching for all that icky stuff. Taxpayers will, too, knowing that paramedics run on the taxpayer's dime. Ambulances will spend less time cleaning up after a school shooting. And multiple kindergartners and pre-schoolers can fit in the back of one ambulance, where adults have to go one at a time. Have you ever had to pay for an ambulance? Not cheap, I tell you.

Even the bullets are fun!

Shaped like Hello Kitty, the ammo is the cat’s meow! Hardly drawing any blood, the entrance and exit wounds are almost identical! Even the guns meow as they’re fired.

And hey, wait! You can get a Designer Gun, named after beloved gun lovers! Behold below

The handle is shaped in the form of Lauren Boebert’s body! For shooters of the Boebert Blaster you can

FONDLE WHILE FIRING!

And better, when you run out of Hello Kitty ammo, her empty body and brain doubles as a PEZ dispenser. (Candy Not Included )

New models are in production. The MTGreene Gotcha!, a special edition model. Silent when the ammo misses, but yells “Gotcha!” when it finds flesh. And of course, knowing our 2nd Amendment-Loving Gun-Worshipping GOPers, when your Boeberts and Greenes run empty, you know you GOTTA GETTA GAETZ!

One Hundred and Eighty

When I was teaching I would tell Jadyne about conflicts in my class with a student or two. No doubt the student came home and described the event in his own words to his parents. I was only privy to my own account, but I suspect that the student’s story differed from mine, perhaps so much so that the two accounts never intersected. We were 180° apart.

Currently, Gwyneth Paltrow is being sued and is counter-suing a retired Utah physician following a skiing accident in 2016. Here are some quotes from reports about the case:

“Gwyneth Paltrow says Terry Sanderson 'categorically' crashed into her”

“While on the stand, Paltrow said she "was not engaging in any risky behavior" the day she alleges Sanderson crashed into her from behind on a beginner ski slope.”

“Mr Sanderson insists that the movie star smashed into him after racing downhill in an “out-of-control” manner, according to CourtTV. He claims that she struck him in the back with such force that he was left with “permanent traumatic brain injury, four broken ribs, pain, suffering, loss of enjoyment of life, emotional distress and disfigurement”. In his complaint, the plaintiff argues that Paltrow “got up, turned and skied away” without summoning help, leaving him “stunned, lying in the snow, seriously injured”.

The outcome of the suits is yet to be determined. Their statements reveal either faulty memories (my late uncle called them “convenient memories”), or something worse, a fabrication, a lie, an untruth, deception, fib, a whopper. That we see events through our own unique lenses is hardly surprising, but that they can differ so dramatically, 180 degrees, is a source of wonder.

The Former Guy

Steve Schmidt had this to say about The Former Guy:

“Donald Trump has been the worst president this country has ever had. And I don’t say that hyperbollically. He is. But he is a consequential president. And he has brought this country in three short years to a place of weakness that is simply unimaginable if you were pondering where we are today from the day where Barack Obama left office. And there were a lot of us on that day who were deeply skeptical and very worried about what a Trump presidency would be. But this is a moment of unparalleled national humiliation, of weakness.

“When you listen to the President, these are the musings of an imbecile. An idiot. And I don’t use those words to name call. I use them because they are the precise words of the English language to describe his behavior. His comportment. His actions. We’ve never seen a level of incompetence, a level of ineptitude so staggering on a daily basis by anybody in the history of the country whose ever been charged with substantial responsibilities.

“It’s just astonishing that this man is president of the United States. The man, the con man, from New York City. Many bankruptcies, failed businesses, a reality show, that branded him as something that he never was. A successful businessman. Well, he’s the President of the United States now, and the man who said he would make the country great again. And he’s brought death, suffering, and economic collapse on truly an epic scale. And let’s be clear. This isn’t happening in every country around the world. This place. Our place. Our home. Our country. The United States. We are the epicenter. We are the place where you’re the most likely to die from this disease. We’re the ones with the most shattered economy. And we are because of the fool that sits in the Oval Office behind the Resolute Desk.”

Well, that’s one side.

Here’s another:

One hundred and eighty degrees…I’m leaning towards Steve’s version

The 180 degree difference can be broken down into at least three components—memory, perception, and fabrication.

Memory.

Elizabeth Loftus is a distinguished professor at UC Irvine. She has testified about memory at trials of OJ Simpson, Ted Bundy, Rodney King, Michael Jackson, Bill Cosby, and more recently Harvey Weinstein. She’s unpopular with prosecutors because of statements like this: “False memories, once created — either through misinformation or though these suggestive processes — can be experienced with a great deal of emotion, a great deal of confidence and a lot of detail, even though they’re false.” Rape accusers find themselves accused of having leaky memories.

In another case, Judge Kavanaugh denied Christine Ford’s claims that he raped her when they were teenagers. According to the New York Times, “Judge Kavanaugh has emphatically denied allegations from Dr. Blasey that he tried to rape her when they were teenagers or ever committed sexual assault against anyone. Dr. Blasey and another accuser, Deborah Ramirez, have recounted their alleged incidents with both precise detail and gaping holes.” 180°

Recollection is part reconstruction, The brain, especially after traumatic experiences, engages a selective process that is prone to error. When Jennifer was a little girl she was sitting in a red wagon. I tried to carry them both. She fell onto a gravel driveway, cut in several places. We picked her up, carried her inside, cleaned the cuts, applied band-aids. She was scratched but otherwise okay. Jason, her older brother, said last year that she was injured and covered with blood. His memory of the event was colored not only by time but by the way he saw the world as a little boy. Which brings me to…

Perception

We perceive events through our senses, yes, but also through past experiences. In Jason’s case, age played a role. So did the passing of more than forty years. The Marx brothers line, “Who ya gonna believe, me or your own eyes?” Concerning the blatant disregard of our senses Trump is a master. To veterans he said, “What you’re seeing and what you’re reading is not what’s happening,” 180°

We think we’re all seeing the same thing. We regard it as fact, as truth. When called out for falsehoods Kellyanne Conway, one of Trump’s minions, said, “Our press secretary, Sean Spicer, gave alternative facts to that…” Chuck Todd, who was interviewing her replied, "Wait a minute. Alternative facts? ... Alternative facts are not facts. They're falsehoods." 180° All of this was regarding Trump’s claim that his inauguration crowd was greater than Obama’s, a fabrication easily disproved with aerial photographs. “What you’re seeing and what you’re reading is not what’s happening,”

Why then, do people believe them? IMHO, the deplorables have no interest in what is true, what is false. Truth falls by the wayside when it conflicts with what we want to believe, with what conforms to our own thinking, or what we want to be true, not what is true. Problems arise on the national stage when deplorables are elected to govern, Right MGT? Lauren? Andy? Tommy?

Fabrication

The last stop on the train. Trump knew he lost. He knew the election wasn’t stolen. He created “The Big Lie” out of the knowledge that the deplorables who love him, who follow him, have no interest in truth. Seventy million of them. They wanted him to win, so he simply gave them what they wanted. Sixty judges affirmed what the rest of us all knew. The judiciary told the truth. Deplorables paid no attention.

We fabricate stories for a multitude of reasons. A policeman follows a speeder. The driver pulls to the curb, climbs out of the car and denies that she was the driver. We lie to get out of trouble. We lie to get someone else in trouble. George Santos, the lying congressman from New York, lied on his resumé to get elected. We lie because sometimes the truth is too painful to hear. We lie to hide our fears or cover up our inadequacies.

There are degrees of lying. We use the expression “white lie” to prevent the truth from hurting someone else. If white lies are the bottom of the pyramid, then what the Republican Party, what Donald Trump is doing, represents the top. Trump asked his constituents, “Are you tired of winning?, believing that winning and truth were the same. Of all the insults that Trump can’t accept, losing wins. To lose is inconceivable. Denying loss by claiming it didn’t happen isn’t. Trump knew he lost, but in his mind the loss disappears if he doesn’t acknowledge it. He lied. He’s still a winner. 180°

The last 180° comes from a lady who lives in the Ozarks.


My To-Don't List

From an article in The Atlantic by Arthur Brooks, a “to-don’t” list focuses on what you know to be wrong. It’s the “via negativa”, a negative way of looking at things, then avoiding them, which, in effect, allows for more positivity to enter your life.

Here’s where I started. One, I’ve obsessed about the little bulge above my belt that extends, rises up and out, then curves back, before returning to meet up with the rest of my body. It surrounds five or six very active pounds, that’s all, pounds that go on frequent vacations for a few days, then come home. Then go away. Then return. I’ve spent too much time worrying about them, wondering if they’re safe, whether they’ve picked up any bad habits, knowing that they’ll return, and worse, whether they’ll bring friends with them. Ignoring them altogether makes me happier.

Two. I’ve also obsessed about my 401k. It was so much fun watching it play and grow over the past several years. Like putting a yardstick over your kid’s head and seeing how tall he was last month, now how tall he is today. Growth in some things brings pride and contentment. Not so for investments over the last fifteen months. By ignoring that all-knowing website over the past few weeks, the one that knows exactly how much money I have, I no longer wonder how far it’s tumbled. I don’t know much money I have. And here’s the thing. Whether it was rising or falling, its movement had nothing to do with what I did any day, how I lived my life. Only how I felt. I feel better not knowing.

Three. Real estate. We own two houses. We live in one. Jason, Hawthorn, and Hazel live in the other. A year ago their values were through the proverbial roof. Fifteen months later they’ve lost hundreds of thousands of dollars in value. We have no plans to sell, so we haven’t lost that money. Many years ago, when David Buchholz Photography was a thing, I said to Jadyne, “We lost Healdsburg’s Prom.” That was a big deal, a huge moneymaker for DBP. She replied, “We didn’t lose it. We never had it in the first place.” So, about that real estate thing. It don’t make much no never mind.

Four. There have been toxic people in my life—my former daughter-in-law, my ex neighbor Bob Frassetto, people whose memories conjure up bad feelings. Once these people were unavoidable. Now Jason is divorced, and I know nothing about my former daughter-in-law now, only that her presence, physically, emotionally, and psychically, are gone, and with that. the toxicity. Bob Frassetto, who once said, “You disgust me,” sold his house, married for the third time, and left Kensington and my life. Both absences have brought about presence.

Brooks adds that in trying to find out who you really are, how to bring about the feelings of positivity, “…is to eliminate the things that are not truly you—for example, your career, your money, your looks, your social-media following. Write down items on that list. Each day, recite all of the things you are not, such as “I am not my job title.” You might just find that this via negativa has introduced you to yourself.”