eclectic_boy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eclectic_boy) wrote2001-06-22 11:47 pm
eclectic_boy) wrote2001-06-22 11:47 pm
(no subject)
self-adhesive peanuts
Why I supported the Voluntary Blackout
Last night was a nationwide voluntary power-avoidance event, titled “Roll Your Own Blackout”. People were supposed to refrain from using electricity from 7-10 local time, to demonstrate to the White House that voluntary conservation was not only possible, but effective. In my case, I shut off the computer, turned out all the lights, put the refrigerator on its warmest setting to minimize the chance that it’d turn on during those three hours, and left only a few clocks on. And went with Ben and a bunch of others to play frisbee golf around campus, and later on game in Kohlberg (retreating to a large already-illuminated building was cop-outy, IMHO, but only venally).
I was a big booster of the blackout because it:
* Provided a data point showing the amount of electricity that consumers can cut back on. The one figure I’ve seen said that electricity use in Portland dropped by 3% during those hours. That’s pretty small, but then again this was an entirely grass-roots effort, so participation was small. Of course, the tiny numbers involved cut back more dramatically than a long-term conservation effort would entail, but I still think the result of that night will show that meaningful reduction can happen voluntarily. I’ve seen too much wasted electricity just in house, office, and street lights not to believe that.
* Reminded me and others about acting locally. An energy shortage can seem like a Big Policy Issue, when it’s also something that we all contribute to, and can all help lessen. Even a small step energizes people, fights the feeling of helplessness.
* Raised the profile of the issue in thousands of minds. Having an Event like this can attune a lot of people to something they otherwise would remain only dimly (pun gratis) aware of. That’s probably hundreds of letters to congressfolk, and hopefully thousands of lunch-table conversations.
* Had the side benefit of giving an extra 3-hour “No TV day” (and, I’ll confess it, “No Net day”) to push sedentary types into more active pursuits.
And, in retrospect, because it provided the perfect conditions for the discovery of a fine pastime:
Frisbee Fencing (“Brick-Oven Fencing” as Will calls it) involves two people (more are possible but increasingly chaotic, detracting from actual strategy), each with a frisbee. Frisbees are to be held rather like waiter’s trays: a hand is stretched out, and the frisbee sits atop it, concave either up or down according to individual discretion. (The frisbees must be large ones, so that a fully stretched-out-hand is not able to press against the sides of the lip and thus jam the disc to the hand—balance and (un)stability are key here.)
The object: to knock the opponent’s frisbee off without dropping your own. If your frisbee hits the ground you have lost. You are also disqualified if you grab the frisbee (defined at present as using more than one finger/hand as a pincer to hold the frisbee, even for a second). However, if your frisbee is falling and you trap it against your body, that’s allowed (as long as you can return the frisbee to horizontal-on-fingers position without doing any grabbing, while still watching out for your opponent)
Josh, Will, Rachel Sapiro, jMr and I spent 45 minutes exploring the space of possible techniques, waging contests none of which lasted more than 90 seconds or so. Josh’s frantic flailing is amusing and hypnotizing (though not particularly effective), as he uses the frisbee almost like a re-entry shield, tipped to extreme angles but not falling off due to the same inertia that works for rollercoasters. Rachel tried whipping her frisbee around one finger, placed at the side, which seemed like a powerful weapon but one too hard to control, and too likely to fly off if you tried to change direction. The give-and-take between offense and defense is similar to fencing, or the “try to push another person off balance, contacting them only palm-to-palm” game. Up for a tournament next reunion?
Speaking of which, I got very little response to my email several months ago seeking interest in a SWIL gathering this Fall. I’ve pretty much decided to let it drop, and to seek other ways to get together with many friends before the 25th anniversary of SWIL in 2003. And it’s increasingly seeming that Andrea’s SWIL Cruise next March will fill that bill. There was a lot of discussion about it at the reception after Michael (Bernstein ‘90)’s wedding in Boston two weeks ago. Ruth and Gavin have now officially jumped aboard, to join SWAPAfolk (past & present) Laura, Josh S., Melissa B., Andrea, Megan H., and John Rapkin (plus other SWIL-but-not-SWAPA alums). I believe there will be more announcements to come of people joining us; if you have any inclination to consider coming I encourage you to email me so I can give you more information and try to break down your futile resistance :-)
Boston was wonderful. I went up for nine days, motivated by Michael’s and Diana’s weddings (though it was high time for me to go anyway), and spent more time on more satisfying pursuits than I think I’ve ever done on a single trip. Highlights: the weddings themselves and attendant receptions/unwindings (both continuing on long into the night, discussing intently with many friends), reconnecting with Susan Ruff after many years, getting to watch the still-unstoppable Rob Smith in argumentative action, joining the wonderful next generation of Swat Bostonians, exemplified by Chaos, Sarah, and Amy, Being silly with DVS in the way that I’ve never duplicated with anyone else, a complexly-coordinated afternoon of dim sum and the Museum of Bad Art and torrential rainfall, reading The Golden Compass and being almost totally swept up in it, and hearing Diana and Susan say they wanted to rejoin SWAPA (Hi, both of you!).
All that was lacking was sleep, which seems to be a given in my life....
The only event from the trip I’ll mention in detail is MOBA, which isn’t really a museum but the basement of a movie theater in Dedham (30 minutes south of Boston), which has about 30 paintings (from a larger collection, hopefully just as bad) that violate the rules of composition, logic, and taste, sometimes all at once. What stays in my mind clearest is a pointillist study (except it was actually painted solidly and then overlaid haphazardly with dots, the layer underneath still being blatantly obvious) of a grumpy-looking 50something businessman in nothing but underwear. They’ve titled it Sunday on the Pot with George (waggishness plagues the Museum’s labels, but they can just be ignored). Some of the Museum is at http://glyphs.com/moba/ but a trip to see them in person is highly recommended. It’s free, and what other art museum has a popcorn counter by the door?
DVS and I came up with an open-ended word puzzle: try to find the shortest string of words that contains all the letters of the alphabet in order. We decided to count spaces, although there’s an equally-interesting challenge but different challenge if you don’t count them (or penalize for them, making spaces count as two or three letters per). Our best is:
Aback defog hijack elm no pique rust mauve waxy zoo (51 letters/spaces). Can you better it?
(title taken from the wrapper on the sheet of stamps I just bought)
Why I supported the Voluntary Blackout
Last night was a nationwide voluntary power-avoidance event, titled “Roll Your Own Blackout”. People were supposed to refrain from using electricity from 7-10 local time, to demonstrate to the White House that voluntary conservation was not only possible, but effective. In my case, I shut off the computer, turned out all the lights, put the refrigerator on its warmest setting to minimize the chance that it’d turn on during those three hours, and left only a few clocks on. And went with Ben and a bunch of others to play frisbee golf around campus, and later on game in Kohlberg (retreating to a large already-illuminated building was cop-outy, IMHO, but only venally).
I was a big booster of the blackout because it:
* Provided a data point showing the amount of electricity that consumers can cut back on. The one figure I’ve seen said that electricity use in Portland dropped by 3% during those hours. That’s pretty small, but then again this was an entirely grass-roots effort, so participation was small. Of course, the tiny numbers involved cut back more dramatically than a long-term conservation effort would entail, but I still think the result of that night will show that meaningful reduction can happen voluntarily. I’ve seen too much wasted electricity just in house, office, and street lights not to believe that.
* Reminded me and others about acting locally. An energy shortage can seem like a Big Policy Issue, when it’s also something that we all contribute to, and can all help lessen. Even a small step energizes people, fights the feeling of helplessness.
* Raised the profile of the issue in thousands of minds. Having an Event like this can attune a lot of people to something they otherwise would remain only dimly (pun gratis) aware of. That’s probably hundreds of letters to congressfolk, and hopefully thousands of lunch-table conversations.
* Had the side benefit of giving an extra 3-hour “No TV day” (and, I’ll confess it, “No Net day”) to push sedentary types into more active pursuits.
And, in retrospect, because it provided the perfect conditions for the discovery of a fine pastime:
Frisbee Fencing (“Brick-Oven Fencing” as Will calls it) involves two people (more are possible but increasingly chaotic, detracting from actual strategy), each with a frisbee. Frisbees are to be held rather like waiter’s trays: a hand is stretched out, and the frisbee sits atop it, concave either up or down according to individual discretion. (The frisbees must be large ones, so that a fully stretched-out-hand is not able to press against the sides of the lip and thus jam the disc to the hand—balance and (un)stability are key here.)
The object: to knock the opponent’s frisbee off without dropping your own. If your frisbee hits the ground you have lost. You are also disqualified if you grab the frisbee (defined at present as using more than one finger/hand as a pincer to hold the frisbee, even for a second). However, if your frisbee is falling and you trap it against your body, that’s allowed (as long as you can return the frisbee to horizontal-on-fingers position without doing any grabbing, while still watching out for your opponent)
Josh, Will, Rachel Sapiro, jMr and I spent 45 minutes exploring the space of possible techniques, waging contests none of which lasted more than 90 seconds or so. Josh’s frantic flailing is amusing and hypnotizing (though not particularly effective), as he uses the frisbee almost like a re-entry shield, tipped to extreme angles but not falling off due to the same inertia that works for rollercoasters. Rachel tried whipping her frisbee around one finger, placed at the side, which seemed like a powerful weapon but one too hard to control, and too likely to fly off if you tried to change direction. The give-and-take between offense and defense is similar to fencing, or the “try to push another person off balance, contacting them only palm-to-palm” game. Up for a tournament next reunion?
Speaking of which, I got very little response to my email several months ago seeking interest in a SWIL gathering this Fall. I’ve pretty much decided to let it drop, and to seek other ways to get together with many friends before the 25th anniversary of SWIL in 2003. And it’s increasingly seeming that Andrea’s SWIL Cruise next March will fill that bill. There was a lot of discussion about it at the reception after Michael (Bernstein ‘90)’s wedding in Boston two weeks ago. Ruth and Gavin have now officially jumped aboard, to join SWAPAfolk (past & present) Laura, Josh S., Melissa B., Andrea, Megan H., and John Rapkin (plus other SWIL-but-not-SWAPA alums). I believe there will be more announcements to come of people joining us; if you have any inclination to consider coming I encourage you to email me so I can give you more information and try to break down your futile resistance :-)
Boston was wonderful. I went up for nine days, motivated by Michael’s and Diana’s weddings (though it was high time for me to go anyway), and spent more time on more satisfying pursuits than I think I’ve ever done on a single trip. Highlights: the weddings themselves and attendant receptions/unwindings (both continuing on long into the night, discussing intently with many friends), reconnecting with Susan Ruff after many years, getting to watch the still-unstoppable Rob Smith in argumentative action, joining the wonderful next generation of Swat Bostonians, exemplified by Chaos, Sarah, and Amy, Being silly with DVS in the way that I’ve never duplicated with anyone else, a complexly-coordinated afternoon of dim sum and the Museum of Bad Art and torrential rainfall, reading The Golden Compass and being almost totally swept up in it, and hearing Diana and Susan say they wanted to rejoin SWAPA (Hi, both of you!).
All that was lacking was sleep, which seems to be a given in my life....
The only event from the trip I’ll mention in detail is MOBA, which isn’t really a museum but the basement of a movie theater in Dedham (30 minutes south of Boston), which has about 30 paintings (from a larger collection, hopefully just as bad) that violate the rules of composition, logic, and taste, sometimes all at once. What stays in my mind clearest is a pointillist study (except it was actually painted solidly and then overlaid haphazardly with dots, the layer underneath still being blatantly obvious) of a grumpy-looking 50something businessman in nothing but underwear. They’ve titled it Sunday on the Pot with George (waggishness plagues the Museum’s labels, but they can just be ignored). Some of the Museum is at http://glyphs.com/moba/ but a trip to see them in person is highly recommended. It’s free, and what other art museum has a popcorn counter by the door?
DVS and I came up with an open-ended word puzzle: try to find the shortest string of words that contains all the letters of the alphabet in order. We decided to count spaces, although there’s an equally-interesting challenge but different challenge if you don’t count them (or penalize for them, making spaces count as two or three letters per). Our best is:
Aback defog hijack elm no pique rust mauve waxy zoo (51 letters/spaces). Can you better it?
(title taken from the wrapper on the sheet of stamps I just bought)