D

Transition

2010-04-06T14:29:00.000-07:00

Due to Recent changes on the Blogger domain (Blogger.com will no longer support ftp publishing) this blog has moved to:

Blog.stefanoascari.com

Hope to see you there!

Ted Kunstler talks about Suburbia!

2010-02-17T11:41:00.001-08:00

Morning Tennis

2010-02-17T10:05:00.001-08:00

I have a morning tennis class at 8:00AM. It's quite enjoyable and worth the effort to wake up early and get to it. Fortunately, because on Tuesday nights our good friend R spends the night at our place (he has to drive in town for a night class) he gets to drive me in the morning.

The night before though, we had a discussion in our little kitchen (Anisa, R, and myself) on permitting public transportation to aid our lives. I think Minneapolis has a relatively decent public transportation system. We certainly have one of the nation's best bicycle pathway network and the die-hard winter bikers do make good use of it. From my experience using the public transit system though, I've found it very lacking. But this could be partly due to a few unfortunate experiences which involved certain bus routes failing punctuality combined with the weather in Minnesota. Anisa states that sacrifices must be made.

But when is a sacrifice worthwhile? Anisa gets driven to and from work. Why? Because if she had to take the bus, it would amount to 2 or 3 route exchanges and extended waiting periods out in the cold. Bus shelters are poorly designed for a climate that deals with extended winters (yes, occasionally they threw in a coiled rod that acts as some sort of heater). I'm sure you're all familiar with the many problems of public transportation. And sometimes, I definitely am crabby-problem-boy: looking for cracks in the walls. I realize that this has turned into a lengthy diatribe on transportation. However, I'm going to set goals. I'm going to do my best to take advantage of the current public transportation system and attempt to make the best use of time expended on it. I'm also going to try and get a decent bike at some point-perhaps improve A's mountain bike (it has a small glitch that makes it currently unridable for me).

Yes, maybe I will just bike.

Urban Islands

2010-02-15T10:22:00.001-08:00

Each day that goes by, I have a deeper appreciation for my profession. Almost all the classes I'm taking this semester pertain to my major: History of Landscape Architecture, The Designed Environment, Environmental Design and its Biological and Physical Context (whew! that's a long one).
Two of my friends are now united in the sacred institution of marriage. To attend the spectacular event, family and friends were assembled within the hall of what seemed an ancient library. We sat in trepidation trapped by walls of books that touched the ceiling. Surrounded by an arcade of corinthian columns we sat in reverence as words from the Holy Writings were recited. Then the vows were exchanged and a wave of applause and cheer swelled within the mighty hall.

We wish for many exciting tests!

Inside the Monster's Belly

2010-01-31T19:40:00.000-08:00

From here on, we shall be broadcasting from within the monster's belly. "Who is this fiend ?" I hear you asking. It starts with "A" and ends in "macademia". Well, not quite it, but you get the picture.

Can't stress how thankful I am for having the opportunity to attend such a wonderful institution as the University of Minnesota. The teachers are great. The recourses unlimited. The people we meet quite wonderful. Yes, the price is a little steep. Some day it will payoff, I'm sure. In the meantime: stay tuned. Well, don't sit around waiting for the next post. I will not hand out free tickets to the upcoming U2 concert, but I do have one for sale. Fifty bucks to be my date (or sponsor my date!).

Her Spirit

2009-12-22T13:44:00.000-08:00

Her spirit is quite contagious. Minutes after she left, I sat puzzled in a large blue empty room trying to decipher what exactly was missing and why I was suddenly feeling drained. Before she left, she was so enthused about finishing her final exams for the semester that she was terribly giddy, to the point that it was getting irritable to the other residents of the household (Shakira didn't really say anything but it wasn't long before she left the room). In fact, I was the one that suggested she go to the rec center and run a few miles on the thread mill to take advantage of all her new-found energy. How peculiar is the human experience!

Funny flash mob somewhere in London

2009-10-25T12:20:00.001-07:00

Funny flash mob.

Incredible song and musicians

2009-10-23T18:56:00.001-07:00

The instrumentation on this little piece is fantastic. Also, check out the peculiar combination of instruments: Béla Fleck: banjo; Zakir Hussain: tabla; Edgar Meyer: double-bass. Also, see if you can count the rhythms!

On Sleep

2009-10-20T10:34:00.000-07:00

"Some say that gleams of a remoter world

Visit the soul in sleep, - that death is slumber,

And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber

Of those who wake and live. - I look on high"

- Percy Bisshe Shelley

Beautiful song from Neutral Milk Hotel

2009-10-03T19:32:00.000-07:00

For all you cinematographiles

2009-09-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest sequence shots in movie history:

Amazing sand animation from Ukraine's got Talent

2009-09-26T09:40:00.000-07:00

This is an incredible sand animation from Ukraine. It's very moving.

First days

2009-09-08T06:53:00.001-07:00

First day of class.

I'm sitting in the hall of my college. It's shaped into a wide indoor courtyard. So far it's pretty quiet, apart from a small crowd chattering in a corner. They seem to all be quite aquainted with each other and are sharing personal anecdotes of this summer.

I have a cup of Java and I'm sitting on a bench in a corner and all I can say is that it feels a little triumphant. I'm in the place I thought I would never be. It took me a good three years to get here ( first I had to live in this state for a year to get residency and avoid out of state fees; then I had to take 27 credits at a community college).

Now the operation is set in motion. This is it. I have to give it my all and go in with everything I've got. I can't hezitate ever for a second! I can't procrastinate.

Here goes.

Escape

2009-08-22T14:09:00.000-07:00

Escape from sleep's ensnare and

Maybe this city will swallow me:

Here's to one last gasp before I go-

Catch me if you can.

I step into your madness,

If you be so kind and take me.

Step outside, inhale.

Pause.

Reflect.

Around the nascent arc

The ceremony of birth begins:

From her purple crown I stole

The amethyst gem.

A city lives within me and without me.
Her boughs and branches awaken to the

Triumphant, the forsaken, and all that stands on her

imperfect form.

In then out.

On then off.

With and without.

In. Out. On. Off.

Now step back in.

Exhale.

Reflect.

Sleep.

To the Multiverse!

2009-04-28T21:25:00.000-07:00

This is very exciting!

culling knowledge

2009-03-30T11:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was doing a Baha'i children's class in one of the nearby neighbordoods. The class is usually held in the hallway of a multi family home. The families that live there come from different backgrounds.

We began coloring and drawing on large sheets of white paper. At a certain point, a trio of young somali boys aproached the class and we began chatting. One of the boys asked:

"Why you guys drawing stuff? It's boring. You can't gain knowledge from drawing." Somali kids are quite witty and precocious. It's something I've always admired in them. I knew he was erroneously thaught by someone that drawing is frivolous and wasteful. Yet, I found he was eloquent and confident.

I replied with a vague remark (something to the vein of "it's fun!"). I couldn't pursue the discussion because by the time I could collect my thoughts, the trio had run off.

But the statement got me thinking. In fact, I've been thinking about it a lot for the past few days. Namely, the role of the arts in our lives. And this discussion extends beyond the visual arts to all forms of artistic endeavour.

We don't collect knowledge from our art- at least not directly. When we look at the sum of our endeavour we are in fact performing an introspection, combing our subconscious. It's cathartic. It's a pleasant experience. It reinvigorates us. We see the world in a new light. We see ourselves in a new light. And that's fine. But art is, in my opinion, a way for us to share our knowledge. It is a means for us to rake bits of data from each other on how we perceive the world from the standpoint of individuals.

Art as language is perhaps the culmination of its success. When we look at a beautiful painting or read a beautiful story we are struck by its elegance, its beauty. We are full of wonder and awe. But once that passes, we realise that we are looking at the world through the prism of whoever is the fashioner. What a subtle and beautiful experience that is! What an opportunity to gain a unique vantage point of the world! Yes, we might enjoy the forms and contours of Starry Night, but what an intereseting and original perspective of our universe we have culled! The starry sky fills us with wonder and joy yet again.

If art stops to reflect at its own beauty it becomes ephemeral. Beauty for the sake of beauty is only temporal. Art surrounds us every day, but only because it serves no other purpose than to please the eye of the heart. And that, in my opinion, is when things start to go wrong. In a sense I'm implying that unless art is functional, we should discard it. I know it sounds like a horrible statement but it's what I believe. The fact is, however, that even when art becomes plain, it is representing a function that the creator had in mind, most likely stemming from the subconscious. And I think that only means one thing.

Art is a language. Anyone can learn a language. Only some people choose to become fluent in it. Perhaps because it fits easyer with their spiritual genetics. There are many languages out there! And my personal belief is that anyone can really become very eloquent should they be willing to put the effort. Even if you can't sing, you can become the greatest singer of all time.

Just look at Bob Dylan.

In the lottery business - Part 2

2009-01-08T07:13:00.000-08:00

Every opportunity becomes a risky business. By not adapting to the pressing needs of our times we are in fact gambling with the future of our kids.

And this is what inspired me. The other day I was reminded by a radio speaker that class room retention amounts to about 30 - 40%. Education is an age old institution that is permanent aspect of our civilization. We obviously are intricately connected with it. Yet, in the past two centuries our species has fluctuated between evolution and devolution more than ever before.

Scientifically, however, we've accomplished more than all our Accomplishments combined. Yet the pace of our educational institutions has remained anachronistically permanent. While it's true that improvements are occuring consistently, we're still playing catch up.

Shouldn't we be teaching our kids how to learn and what instead of showering our infinite pools of wisdom on them. Isn't that the whole point? Learning should be fun and exciting, not a monotonous gargle echoing on the walls. Is it just too conveinient too let them sit in some kind of stupor and never allow them to wake? And who exactly is that convenient for? And why, may I ask, are classrooms still designed as if we're stuck in the middle ages?
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

In the Lottery business - Part 1

2009-01-07T11:20:00.000-08:00

Amends.
Is this the solution? I think 5% of my life is spent job hunting. That isn't necessarily a bad thing though. I'm acquiring skills that will always be useful. Better than that. I'm improving my talents. And this makes me contemplate the meaning of work: Work as service, or just work for work.

Right now there are two fields in which work can be classified: rote and creative (or that involves critical thinking.).

Rote work of course revolves around any job that involves menial repetitive tasks. Many entry level positions fall under this category as well as unskilled labor - allthough on certain occasions the latter can have certain exceptions.

The creative work force on the other hand consists of doctors, scientists, lawyers, civil workers, etc. Basically any job that involves the right side of your head to any degree.

My beef is with the rote industry.

Our entire industrial model has been forged out of opportunity and necessity. I recognise that. Therefore this is not a criticism of free market capitalism or any other economic system. These were brought upon by numerous forces that were clearly beyond anyones reach.

On the other hand let us recognise that we have simultaneously acquiesced silently to the established business models that are now the strongholds of our economies. And that is that these institutions are clearly set up as top down pyramids without any feedback loops. Some have gone as far to call them tyrannies or despotic forms of government.

You have the chairman, board of directors, share holders. Then somewhere at the bottom a factory employee.

We favor representative democracy in our political sphere but we'd rather eschew it anywhere else.

Why?

Perhaps because we've recognised that presently democratical bodies haven't reached the same level of efficiency that top down directives offer (just look at how superbly efficient china is); or maybe we're too comfortable in our preset niches. There could be many reasons and the list could go on. And we have enable consulting entities catch up with the rest of the world.

Yes. There have been and are various attempts throughout the nation to foster this new approach, albeit they remain small scale. The error lacks in a coherent unified vision. Which begs the question if democracy implies a pluralistic approach or a multitude of visions to accompany each plan?

What if there was a model that offered to unify our visions and support it with a creative guideline for consultation and deliberation? What if there was an environment where clash of opinions occurs without an afront on individuality and personal judgement? Could there be a way to maximize our time spent together by bringing about a richer set of values and individual contributions ?

I believe there is one such alternative. And we should be excited and bold about pioneering one such format where information is processed.

A computer algorythm takes into account all the variables before processing information further. But what the computer lacks is the ability to forge all the data to produce something new. Herein lies the potential for collective creativity.

Baha'I writings speak volumes about consultation.
And this is exactly what Bahai consultation aims to produce: Collective learning and deliberately allowing an unprecedented result that belongs not to the individuals but to the collective body.

To be continued.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

This guy stopped by today...

2008-12-25T13:20:00.000-08:00

It was still dark out and we had just turned on the "Open" sign. At quarter past seven a.m. the door squeaked open and this burly man steps in.

"It's been a busy night!", he says softly.

"Oh." I reply staring intently at him. He has a mischiveous smile like he understands the moment of confusion and gives it a few seconds to let it all sink in.

"One large half caf latte and a large decaf."
And after another pause:

"The decaf is for Mrs. Clause. We don't want to get in any trouble today..."

Later during the day, I showed the picture to a little girl who walked in with her father.
"Guess who stopped by today!"
Her eyes almost popped out of her skull.

Then I showed the picture to a couple wearing santa hats and I yelped:
"Are you working for him?", pointing my phone to them.
"We deny everything!" they replied. Point taken.

Bloging from behind the bar at a coffee shop

2008-12-22T05:58:00.000-08:00

The coldest day of the year ushered in winter. The high today will be about 6 fahrenheight. The roads have turned into rivers of ice and the cars tobogans. and apparently you're not supposed to slam on the breaks.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

maxim sent to caribou

2008-12-19T10:12:00.000-08:00

Someone must be ordering maxim through our store because this came in:
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Test

2008-12-19T09:55:00.000-08:00

Bloghung from phone!
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Crawling at the speed of light

2008-12-02T12:41:00.001-08:00

Working a 530 to 11 shift at a coffee shop. Its not too hard but its not challenging either. I enjoy meeting new people but it gets old really soon. One in one out. Sometimes they're friendly. Occasionally though, someone who is bitter about life decides to find a social outlet to vent their problems. I know. Its the current plight of humanity and everyone is diseased in some form...

Taking a keen interest

2008-10-26T14:24:00.000-07:00

Ive been taking a biotechnology class the last few weeks and it's opened my eyes to a whole new world of science I always knew existed but always thought was untouchable.

Back to square one

2008-08-09T00:13:00.000-07:00

Somehow I ended up a barista. Oh well. Live and learn. If anything, as a lot of people keep reminding me, it's a good motivator to excel in my education. But sometimes I feel that that degree is so far away... It's like running through a thick avalanche.

Truth be told, there were distractions that contributed to my educational demise. But they're over.

This time, I will be more focused. I was getting credits for the sake of credits. Yes, they were general credits of little relevance to the degree I want to pursue. But now I'm bending all my energies on targeting higher scores on my tests. This isn't a game I can afford to loose.

On another note, we're finally moving out of the underground facility from which I listen to my neighbors screaming at each other into the long hours of the night. God, what a relief. Every time I take a shower and a car turns into the parking lot I feel like a nudist looking for a volley ball court but instead ended up trapped in the middle of an interstate highway. Oh well, at least the officers were nice about it.

When the pony-tailed neighbor kid isn't parked on the roof of his porch howling at the squirrels with his voice and guitar, his band of psychedelic punks join in with their base and drums. Often till one or two in the morning. I've developed many irrationally violent strategies for offing neighbors while living here (including drilling a tunnel from my living room -our apartment is underground- to their basement/band practice room).

Of course, diplomatic emissaries are always an option. They sure didn't help at Versailles. But the alternatives seem more...fun. Don't you agree? Well, we can agree to disagree then.

But enough about the band.

Marriage is going well. We learn something new every day. Sort of. Well, not really. I guess I have short memory. We're letting the squirrels take notes for now.

Frikin' squirrels.

The Moth and the Candle

2008-06-14T10:02:00.000-07:00

Something that's been on my mind for a while.

The world is a dark and dreary place. Abdu'l-Baha calls it a heap of dust. But He was speaking of the material world. The world that creates a semblance of reality; a semblance of what is relevant. But we live in this world, right? We're part of it. Every breath of air we inhale, every drink of water, our every move is a perpetually synchronized dance of electrons and atoms moving through us and within us. We react in ways that influence those around us and we also influence our environment. But as much as we are constantly reshaping our universe, the universe is shaping us. It's these two forces that act like an internal mechanism, altering our attitudes and beliefs. And we're constantly looking for way out, an escape. We want out.

This universe is full of decaying, deconstructing forces: prejudices of all kinds, stereotypes, hatred, apathy, etc. And we live inside the systems that perpetuate these forces. Everywhere you look there's the face of one of these forces-these shaping mechanisms that have been around for thousands of years. We are sold that I is more important than them.

So what do we do?

Abdu'l-Baha says darkness is the absence of light. And if we're living in darkness, we must bring the light forth. We are potential luminaries waiting eagerly for the flame to be ignited. But that flame doesn't turn on by itself. A good way to light that fire is by filling your life with positive things. Fill your life with so much positivity that there can be no room for any other forces to drag you down. I'm not saying that you should be oblivious of the problems that are around you. In fact, Baha'u'llah said that you should be "anxiously concerned with the exigencies of your times". Keep your feet on the ground, but keep moving.

There should be so much positive oxygen stirring within your lungs that every time you exhale you breathe new life into all things. Because there IS beauty in the world as well. There is life bursting from every seam, every corner.

If we don't fill ourselves with positivity at the break of every dawn, and scream at the top of our longs the joy that we were brought here through love, then essentially what we're doing is locking the front door and leaving the back door open to everything else that is out there trying to bring you down. And believe me, you can lock all the doors, seal the shutters on your windows, but they will find every crack to seep in through. Fill your cup with light. This is how you float on this ocean. Let them come into your house to find it already beaming and radiant, with so much light that it will illumine everything around.

Do you know why the moth circles the candle in adoration? Because it's desire is to become the light of the flame.

Friday on Franklin

2008-06-13T08:06:00.000-07:00

Religious persecution of Baha'is in Iran persists:
stuff.co.nz/stuff/sundaystartimes/auckland/

Today I'm going to go over to Cafe Tempo on Grand Ave and hopefully meet up with some Italians. I'm very excited albeit I've never really spoken Italian for more than five minutes since last year. Hmm. I can envision what's going to happen: me sitting quietly and smiling gingerly at everyone...Hell no! We're going to do some fasttalkin' today! Damn right.

Resolutions

2008-06-10T15:04:00.001-07:00

I feel like I've/haven't slept enough.
Like I'm slipping between the cracks:
I'm melting into the fog
I dissapear and I reappear.

This road is quite rough:
I cover myself in your tracks-
Hide under a rug.
Sometimes, everything seems so un/clear.

Insomnia

2008-06-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

Don't think I was wise staying up late and watching "Die Hard 2". One of those guilty pleasures, an amalgam of cheesy lines, cheesy acting, and a lot of explosives. That's a lot of cheese! Now my head is throbbing like a sledge hammer. Bleh.

The Song of the Reed

2008-06-02T19:48:00.001-07:00

Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated.

"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.

Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.

Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.

At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,

a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden

within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,

spirit up from body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us

to see the soul. The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be that empty."

Hear the love fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment

melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn

and drawn away. The reed is hurt
and salve combining. Intimacy

and longing for intimacy, one
song. A disastrous surrender

and a fine love, together. The one
who secretly hears this is senseless.

A tongue has one customer, the ear.
A sugarcane flute has such effect

because it was able to make sugar
in the reedbed. The sound it makes

is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
let them go by without worrying

that they do. Stay where you are
inside such a pure, hollow note.

Every thirst gets satisfied except
that of these fish, the mystics,

who swim a vast ocean of grace
still somehow longing for it!

No one lives in that without
being nourished every day.

But if someone doesn't want to hear
the song of the reed flute,

it's best to cut conversation
short, say good-bye, and leave.

Repair it!

2008-06-02T19:10:00.000-07:00

What does a recession yeald? Shoe repair! That's right. Apparently, when economic hardship sets in, more and more people opt to repair their appliances/apparels to prolong their life instead of going out and buying new items! I think it's pretty cool (for a number of reasons).
Check it out:
http://minnesota.publicradio.org/display/web/2008/05/29/shoe_repair/

Journeys into the Block

2008-05-27T11:34:00.000-07:00

It might be hard to believe,
but I get satisfaction from not spending money on stuff like coffee shop drinks or eating out. Recently I've delved into a spending spree, but only because I misunderstood some price listings -such as that Indian bistro I ate at last night. I don't think I'll be back there soon.

Teaching is going well.
Yesterday Laura and I covered about three blocks of houses.
One moment was very memorable for me.

We knocked on the door of a dilapidated house with white paneling. Discarded clusters of old furniture sat on the front porch. The door cracked open a few inches and an elderly lady with long locks of curly black hair peeked through. Laura introduced us. The host explained that she was Native American and that she practiced Native American spirituality. Laura replied instantly with a radiant smile that it was wonderful that she could keep that connection alive. In the background a child was sobbing. The lady explained that her nephew had smallpox and requested that we come back another day. After saying goodbye and promising to come back, we inscribed a few notes on our data sheet and returned to our walk.
A gentle breeze rustled through the oak trees and an overcast sky enclosed us in its silvery dome. Then suddenly my eyes caught a small child, a girl, in pink pants and a Hannah Montana shirt riding a tricycle towards us. She looked no older than six or five. As she drew close she stopped a few feet away and studied us for a few seconds. She had long charcoal hair like the bark of ebony trees.
"Hello" she said still studying our every move.
"Hi!" Laura replied with a beaming smile. "How are you?"
She nodded.
"Did you knock on my grandmas door?" she proceeded to ask.
"Does she live there?" Laura asked pointing to the white house. The girl nodded again. "Yes we did and we talked with your grandma. She said some of your relatives are a bit sick so we'll come back another day to visit her."
"She's very sad" The child explained. "Sometimes, at night, I hear her crying coz' she misses her mom. Her mom is dead."
Silence.
The candor with which she uttered those words pierced my heart like lightning. The sweet, gentle gaze in her eyes...From those eyes I could tell she belonged to another world.
The leaves rustled, brushing against each other like a giant rattle sweeping through the street.
"Ooooh! Well she's very lucky to have you and your brothers around her to support her." Laura's voice was warm and reassuring. I said nothing. I simply stared as Laura continued to explain about us coming back and starting children's classes soon. We'll have fun, and games, and we'll pray and talk about God and virtues, like justice and unity...
Yes, I thought. We will be back.

Growth of One

2008-05-26T09:21:00.001-07:00

The wife is away on pilgrimage, so I'm holding down this fortress of well-being for the moment. Sometimes I get assistance from my fellow fortress keepers.
Concurrently, our third intensive program of growth has begun on Saturday. The night before I was musing to myself -and I should be ashamed for having such thoughts- that only a handful of people were going to show up due to the early hour. But during the night I had a dream about the meeting, and in the dream there were hoards of exuberant people ready for teaching! Then in the morning, when I arrived at the Center, I saw that the dream had turned into reality. I was stupefied.

Cabs on the Road

2008-05-21T07:21:00.000-07:00

Strange events occur near to us quite often but we remain unaware of them.

The last few weeks have been...tempestuous?

Finals came and coincided with starting a new job. The same week all this was happening, the flu finally took its toll on me and I was bedridden for a few days- my bones and ligaments shivering with pain. It was during one of these dreadful afternoons, my body covered in sweat and a ringing fever, that I was awoken by a gentle beloved Tiersen tune coming from the living room. She was playing the piano. "What more could one as for?" I thought to myself. Heaven.

Work work work

2008-05-20T08:14:00.000-07:00

Just spent half an hour analyzing the East African geopolitical situation with an Oromo resident. As it stands, there's still a lot of inter-ethnic hatred.

Top tracks this week

2008-05-19T14:45:00.000-07:00

Client/The Price of Love
Client/Drive
Client/Rock and Roll Machine
Dragonette/Take it Like a Man
Nouvelle Vague/I Melt With You
Nouvelle Vague/Blue Monday
Nouvelle Vague/Don't Go
Nouvelle Vague/Teenage Kicks
Dragonette/I Get Around
Dragonette/Competition
Dragonette/Shock Box

On Contentment

2008-05-14T20:15:00.000-07:00

There are two types of contentment: one is attaining felicity by finding pleasure in the balance of everyday life; the other is complacency. Avoid the latter.

s sl

2008-05-05T09:55:00.000-07:00

We can pretend,
As we move into the shadow of the moon,
That the prisoner is free.
The guard is lost in the cell;
The frivolous are enamored;
The banquet table is empty.

Just as each night breeze
Whispers in the tyrant's ear,
It brings new tidings to those
Whose lives are wreathed in fear.

The tyrant forgets his pomp.
The prisoner forgets himself.
The guard becomes the cell.

On the Ninth Day

2008-04-29T16:38:00.000-07:00

Anisa, Eddie, and I are all sitting in our living room going through the final preparations before going to the Baha'i Center where we will celebrate the Ninth Day of Ridvan.
Ridvan, which means paradise, is the name of the garden wherein Baha'u'llah, the prophet founder of the Baha'i faith declared unto the world that he was the Promised one of all Ages and the mouthpiece of God on earth for this day.

Smooth

2008-04-28T21:17:00.000-07:00

You might have noticed a new trend growing in your circle of friends whenever they congregate to socialize. Very frequently, whenever you decide to "hang out", your encounters tend to devolve into a "Youtube" party. You know what I'm talking about. It's the sort of anticlimactic tendency to overcome the social barrier by imposing youtube shariah and let the digital ecclesia reign over. It all starts when someone casually invites you to partake of their latest discovery. Begrudgingly you concede to join the fun. At the same time, you know that it's a very slippery slope. Once the first video is over, you KNOW everyone in the room is waiting to pounce on the keyboard and show you their life changing video moment.
My concern is that it's not a single core of people that engages the rest of the room in this type of activity. If that was the case, I certainly wouldn't be too concerned. But the problem is: everyone does it! Eventually, when every single social event devolves into a youtube party, it makes me wonder at the relationship we are building with technology.
Think about it. Our kids are never going to know what a busy tone is. It's quite possible that they won't even know what a phone booth is. "What? People had to wait in line to get into a red box and call someone?!?" Simply put, our children are going to go straight to the web. They'll start surfing as soon as they can decipher the odd allocation of keys on a keyboard.
I mean, technological progress has been an integral part of western society in the last century. But as it gained momentum, it has acquired such speed that the steps taken from walkman to disc-player to ipod are getting smaller and smaller. Especially in an economy that values leap-innovation instead of a gradual polishing, refining, gradual adoption of new technologies. Eventually, soon enough, computers might become obsolete in of themselves. I mean, who knows what we will use to store and relay information two decades from now. There is virtually no limit.
Five years ago no one knew about youtube. Fifteen years from now, what the hell are our kids going to do? It makes me wonder...

Donde esta el Dinero?

2008-04-02T15:22:00.001-07:00

Pennyless young married couple. Sometimes it hurts. But not really. I think we (mostly I) create the opportunities for being damaged financially. This is primarily because we have enough money to live by, but not enough for that extra expenditure (like a diner or a movie). Basically, it's your average college budget. So, in the end, it makes me wonder how much of my personal expenses are all that necessary? I considered myself a responsible buyer/shoppper but that was until I met her (and they don't call her the tree of life for nada). She knows how to prioritize and doesn't let herself swayed by the demands of the consumer-driven economy that we swim in. And that's one very crucial lesson that I've had to learn. Coming out of penury and what might seem to a critical urban eye a very simple lifestyle, as soon as I stepped out of the plane that August morning I could instantly sense the different life that was ahead of me. It was as if I could taste the air of a brand new world, engulf me, entrap me in its mesh of swarming eight lane highways and skyscrapers. When I walked downtown the first time, my neck eventually started to hurt because all I could do was look up!

Once Upon a Time in the West

2008-04-01T12:07:00.000-07:00

Three words: Beautiful; beautiful; beautiful.
Carefully crafted like a masterpiece, "Once Upon a Time in the West" is a superb and alternative perspective on the Western front (at least for its time). Sergio Leone is the master choreographer, and every frame is perfectly enacted with sublime precision. Every twitch, blink, breath of air that the actors take are finely measured to follow each beat of the enchanting music of Ennio Morricone. In fact, the music was written first, and the actors literally walked through the scenes to the beat of the songs played (the songs were actually played on a loud speaker on the set). Every shot is a beautiful panorama.
Simply stupendous!

Sometimes we just need to slow down...

2008-02-21T16:10:00.000-08:00

My critique of "The Corporation", a film by M. Achbar and J. Abbot

2008-02-20T10:20:00.000-08:00

Ian Kershaw once said: “The road to Auschwitz was built by hate, but paved with indifference.” In a society so intrinsically connected with the institutions of the free market and where the corporation plays such a pervasive role it is often hard to pin-point the obvious nature of such social constructs. Perhaps that's why an outsider perspective is helpful. It is at this opportune time that Mark Achbar. and Jennifer Abbot have been able to provide a refreshing observation on this polemic. We find that the marriage between the American citizens and the industrial revolution has spawned a terrifying force that is sweeping us along into the path of its destructive cycle. It is therefore our indifference or misinformation that carefully aligns the stepping stones in this path.
Running 145 minutes long, “The Corporation” still leaves much unsaid. The confessions in front of the blue curtain provide an intriguing back drop to the unfolding plot. Yet, it is here that we find an array of controversial figures tossed together in the same pit and voicing their personal opinions. I personally found it curious that both Naomi Klein (from No Logo) and Milton Friedman were invited to share their concerns on the matter. Oddly enough, it was hard for me to distinguish any divergence in their opinions (although I found Mr. Friedman's answers more objective). This is in light of Mrs. Klein's stark references to Mr. Friedman in her Shock Doctrine.

Undoubtedly, the film receives points for credibility by involving Mr. ( founder CEO Interface carpets). His testimonials in a sense provide an unadulterated confession about the dilemma at hand without sounding preachy. It is one such reformed person, who after his awakening. resounds the clarion call. But the filmmakers were careful not to abuse his voice. By moderating his speaking time, his words have a much greater effect. It is also here that Mr. Moore's character appears to stand out, mostly because it isn't entirely consistent with the other interviewees. Everyone's role in the debate is quite obvious, except for Mr. Moore's. It is my opinion that here the filmmakers have decided to bring in another colleague, engaging in an introspective reflection on their role as the creators of the documentary while allowing the audience to observe the role of independent film makers. To sum: who is Mr. Moore representing in this bizarre landscape of writers and CEOs? I'm not intentionally ignoring Mr Moore's bold (yet quite eerie) altercation with the president of Nike. I'm speculating that perhaps the filmmakers had ulterior motives for bringing him to the witness stand.

We find that the CEO of Royal Dutch Shell empathizes with environmentalists yet is impotent to bring about change within the structure of his company. His responsibility of course is to his shareholders. This is proof that by placing individuals within the framework of this massive complex their principles are subdued and give way to the mission of the corporation. The same is attested by Dr. Zimbardo's infamous Stanford prison experiments as well as Dr. John Milgram's shock experiments. By enabling individuals to defer responsibility for their actions, it becomes hard to delineate any limit to the extent such individuals are willing to go. This is shown as the members of the corporation are thrown into a vicious cycle where everyone wins and no one is held responsible as to how success is achieved. One such visible example is provided by the members responsible for the “Nag factor” research project.

But why this manic insatiable drive for acquiring profits? As explained by one of the founders of modern sociology Max Weber, western civilization is primarily shaped by an individualistic society where the needs of each member is met separately before those of the whole. But it was not always the case. Once, not very long ago (if we judge by the history of our species on this planet), land was communally owned and the responsibility for its preservation was shared by all the members of society. It was during the industrial revolution that a sudden shift occurred in the general attitude of people towards personal property. Suddenly the established systems that were in place to administer our natural resources were replaced. In this vein, it would have been useful to know (perhaps from the point of view of the filmmakers) more about the prevailing economic models operating prior to the fusion between corporations and the fourteen amendment.

Though the movie targets American corporations (albeit multinational corporations which do not appear to manifest an affiliation with any particular country) I would have liked to see a comparison and contrast with business models outside American soil. There are other states run by corporations whose administrations and policies differ strongly from what we have in place. Countries like Japan and Germany are two such valuable examples. It would almost be assumptive to lump all the worlds corporations in one big melting pot of devouring machines. Of course, it is quite understandable that due to the time constrain it would be hard to add this aspect to the movie. Perhaps a sequel is in order?

2008-02-16T10:56:00.000-08:00

I'm at a youth retreat somewhere in Maplewood's large community center complex. Right now, all the kids have gone for a swim and I'm alone in a big conference room. Someone has left some gospel music playing in the background. I'm about to start watching some House.

2008-01-03T10:27:00.000-08:00

http://www.bahaullah.org/

Check it out.

November's Bells

2007-11-14T11:02:00.000-08:00

Across the street from my school is a gray church designed in the shape of those ancient basilicas. The bells are chiming because today there is a funeral. A police officer's body is being carried out by a large procession of uniformed men and women, followed by relatives and friends. A group of boys clad in white robes are huddled together close to one of the flags, their robes flapping wildly in the icy November wind. People walking by look on with an air of curiosity. Snowflakes are spiraling madly above their heads.

To Whom it May Concern

2007-11-14T10:52:00.000-08:00

Part of a story I'm working on.

To Whom it May Concern

"From my point of view, it's flawless." Meyer exclaimed as his eyes studied the paper in his hand. He sat with one elbow resting on the table. A cigarette was dangling from the corner of his mouth. Walton stood beside him, a look of stupefaction painted across his face. For a long time no one spoke. Then Walton murmured:

"Should we go over it again -from the beginning ?"

"Yes. From the beginning..." Meyer repeated cautiously. "What are we missing, prof ?"

"I don't know. I've gone over it all night. It's beyond me..." Walter replied as he placed his silver framed glasses on the table and sank his face into his large hands. "It's impossible. Impossible."

Meyer chuckled. The first morning rays were piercing their way into Walton's office and a low hum was steadily growing from the corridors. A silver Apollo was observing them from the library. The coffee machine began spouting the first drops of black oil. Eventually, when the hot liquid ceased pouring, Walton pulled two mugs from a cupboard and set them on the desk.

"Sugar ?"

"Two. No cream."

The office was a mix of oak shelves and brown wallpapers. Two dark leather armchairs sat on a Persian rug that entertained the first half of the room; There were frames on walls that held sacred excerpts from the volumes of Euclid and Aristotle. On the window sill, an orchid, still holding a ribbon, was slowly drying in the sun. Someone had taken great pleasure in arranging all the books alphabetically by author. A pair of slippers guarded the foot of a lamp and one of the walls was eclipsed by an enormous green chalk board.

Walton's eyes were weary and red from too much coffee and not enough sleep. He sat on the floor, pulled his socks off and flung them into a corner after which he fell into a daze with his eyes wide open.

"Don't get me started, but how do we know he didn't simply memorize the solution - albeit it's the first time I've seen this version ?"

"It's possible, but without prior knowledge of the problem it's not very likely." he replied as he crossed his legs. "The solution is not only elegant, but completely new as well. I've exhausted all my sources. In fact, I'm quite content with it, as you can see. In my thirty years of experience I've never come across something like this..." Walton produced a smile and stared gingerly at his former pupil.

"Should we begin ?" He finally asked.

"Last time though. And I believe it's your turn."

"If you don't mind, would you do it again ?"

"No problem, sir."

"Don't shatter it, sir." Walton growled from the floor. "Pass me those papers will you ?"

Meyer handed him the sheets and stepped up to the chalk board. His fingers were stained with the magical white powder.

He began first by erasing the board after which he drew a pair of perpendicular arrows which intersected at their centers. As Walton dictated the solution they stopped at each phase and dissected each equation. The graph on the table sprang to life and grew more intricate as the variables crowded the board, disappearing and reappearing rhythmically. It was like watching a garden come to life under this white ivy that just kept growing and growing. Outside, feet were shuffling back and forth by the door and by now many voices were crowding the corridors. After the last digit made it's way unto the ivy, Tom tossed the chalk and dropped on the floor besides Walton. By now they were both lying with their backs on the soft rug and studying the ceiling in a concerted effort that demanded absolute silence. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

* * *

Simon's room defied the standards attributed to a boy his age. There were no socks scattered on the rug nor were there any posters plastered against the sepia walls. A tin can sat in a corner holding three pieces of white chalk. There was a dark green desk perched by the window. On it there was nothing more than a shut notebook and two pencils. A bed was strewn against the southern wall. When winter came the window would frame flowery fractals on the glass. Simon was quite fond of the patterns. He had filled stacks of pictures of them with a disposable camera he had learned to refill. There were no book shelves in sight - only a large closet that he operated efficiently.

The Awful Truth

2007-10-17T12:09:00.000-07:00

A slow and painful erosion is occurring in the crevasses of my brain. Lately, I haven't been able to fall asleep earlier than one in the morning. My wife is already sound asleep by eleven or midnight, but I'm still awake, prowling about the living room looking for something useless to do. I haven't been able to identify a cause yet, but I'm working on a self-diagnosis. More milk ?

In the meantime, hermits occasionally bump into other hermits on the bus. We exchange short sentences before the next stop and we're back into our little secluded islands. This is my plea to humanity: feel free to contact me, even though I may be unable to respond to your messages.

The library is a pleasant place to hang out. You fill out quizzes for Anthropology and you tune into other people's conversations to gain a glimpse of the social construct out there. Everyone's mostly sitting alone, nose buried in the latest edition of some text book: headphones, laptops, tapping pens, water bottles, choccolate wrappers, keyboards, tap-tap-tapping away, drumming information away. Occasionally, someone's phone will go off. Half the room will turn their awe-stricken faces and cast burning glares. Then it's back to the faint hum of traffic on Hennepin Ave. Ah, but what a relief it is to shut that atlas of information, return it to kiosk where it came from, and step into the faint glow of an October sky.

Pax

Critical Thinking

2007-10-11T06:44:00.001-07:00

The iron fist of school is reigning over my universe. Although fifteen credits is the standard for a full time student, I feel compelled to admit that for a long time my life has never required of me to use the left side of my brain. It's quite intense. The downside of things is that I'm beginning to loose touch with a lot of friends. I can't seem to find the time to even reply to e-mails now...It's quite a scary place for me.

Married, at last!

2007-09-24T12:52:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know yet, I'm married.
The deal is done! Papers signed!

One month has elapsed since the actual day it all went down, and though the toils of life have started to to set in, the days seem to slip by in blissful joy.

I must admit, the wedding was well beyond our expectations. We had intended to go for the modest, informal type. Perhaps a few friends and a little catering on the side. Then suddenly (hallelluja-praise-the-Lord!), He sent a planner. And I mean a real, professional down-to-earth-hard-core organizer. Actually, not one, but two of them (mother and daughter)! She said she had an idea. Considering that at the time, neither my wife or had any clues about how a Baha'i wedding should take place, I told her I was all ears.

The Baha'i wedding ceremony is very simple and straightforward. There is no clergy in the Baha'i faith, therefore no priest to bless the matrimony. Instead, Baha'i administration is based on elected institutions of nine members called Spiritual Assemblies. These work at the local, national, and finally international level. In most countries these institutions are recognized by the civil services of that region and so at the wedding ceremony, one member of the Local Spiritual Assembly must be present to officiate (via signature) the matrimony. Two accompanying witnesses, and these are left to the discretion of the bride and groom, are also required to attend and sign the necessary papers. The ceremony basically consists of the bride and groom reciting out loud a verse from the Kitab-i-Aqdas (the Baha'i book of laws): "We verily all, verily, abide by the will of God". After this, the officiating member of the Local Spiritual Assembly and the two witnesses sign the papers and voila! Party time!

Following the wise suggestion of our organizer we decided to go for a pot-luck style. We had anticipated about 130+ guests. The location was going to be the Baha'i center on 36th and Chicago in down town Minneapolis. We decided to have the ceremony indoors, and because of the logistics, move everyone outside to eat. Fortunately, it was a blissful sunny day. That day, it felt exceptionally bright.

Then, one of our "organizers" who is also a member of the Minnesota Junior Symphony orchestra asked if her string quartet could perform at the wedding -they had frequently played at other weddings as well. We freaked out!

In retrospect, my wife and I often observed how smoothly the whole program went (from initial ceremony to the final getaway). Quite remarkably no one choked, had a heat stroke, danced on the tables -allthough there was plenty of dancing elsewhere.

However, there was one small misfortune... Parallel to my wedding planning, the McGee side of my family had been planning a major family reunion, scheduled for exactly the day after the wedding. They asked if they could attend, and we were of course delighted. But somehow, the organization for that fell through and we were short of about thirty-forty guests. Not an issue at the time, since the Baha'i Center had already reached maximum capacity. But it was a pot-luck, and we always figured it was safer to plan for more than less, and because we had expected our guests to bring dates as well, even more then the numerical value of our invitation list. You can imagine at this point the consequences of such a mishap. Basically, our diet of the past month has consisted purely of lasagna and curry. Which was of course, delicious. I love it, but I think that by my wifes persistent suggestions to eat out recently, her tastes have changed... I love it though!

Grazias!

More Pictures

2007-08-09T18:39:00.000-07:00

Picture

2007-08-04T22:31:00.001-07:00

The Acquaintance

2007-08-04T09:09:00.000-07:00

I met a girl. One thing led to another. We're getting married.
When ?
September first.

Minneapolis: The City in the Land of Lakes - that's where I live. Somewhere up North, by the border of Canada. It's a little too close to the arctic circle for my liking, but I could get used to it.

Yesterday we had a phenomenal cluster reflection meeting. The atmosphere was electric. The enthusiasm was abounding. A new believer participated as well, and with glowing eyes, he exclaimed that the world "has been waiting" and is "ready" for Baha'u'llah. His friend said that one of the best way to teach was to "model" your beliefs. Ultimately, I suppose that's what we're looking for: the reflection of the Great Spirit in the eyes of those who cross our paths. Enough said. Words are powerless.

The neighborhood where I live is a few blocks from an eight lane bridge that collapsed into a river last Wednesday. It was a perfect evening with a perfect sunset. We were in our apartment getting ready to go to Feast ( an administrative function of the Baha'i faith that is held at the end of every Baha'i month ). That's when the power went off. We called our neighbors and discovered that the power was off in the entire complex. We stepped outside and noticed that the entire neighborhood had been disconnected. No one knew what was going on. Then one of my roommates received a phone call from his mother. She asked him if he was all right and then broke the news: 35W had collapsed into the Mississippi. Our other friends joined us and a crowd had assembled in the parking lot. We were shocked. We were used to taking that bridge on a daily basis.

At feast we prayed for the victims and then, at the end of Pasta Night we asked everyone to join us for some prayers. During times of crisis, Americans have a great spirit of solidarity I have not quite had the opportunity to experience, due to the various places I've lived around the world.

In The Grand Scheme of All Things

2007-07-29T15:56:00.001-07:00

I was born beneath the half moon and the stars.
When I cried my first cry, the world cried with me,
And when I laughed my first laugh,
The universe rejoiced!
Buried in the mirror was the essence of my soul.
And when I perished, I felt every blade of grass, every tormented cricket, every drifting sailor,
who,
caught in the vastness of the storm
had found his home
on a bed
of
green coral.
Green coral was the color
of your eyes.

Settle down, kid.

2007-04-28T08:35:00.000-07:00

Thank you for Coffee. Thank you. <3

2007-04-27T13:14:00.000-07:00

At last I have decided to resume posting on my blog. Editing a blog does require time and effort, at least if you want to maintain a pace for your writing. And time these days has become such a precious luxury only few of us can afford. It seems to me you either have none or you have too much. I've met only a handful of souls who've managed to balance their lives in such a way that they succeeded to accomplish their goals. Yes, I've met people who have frightfully busy lives yet manage to maintain serene, complacent attitudes. I don't know what their secret is, but I hope one day I will attain that type of nirvana. I am pretty certain though that each one has had his/her share of tests and hardships.
Otherwise, things are going great.
Summer has finally hit Minnesota, and that's the primary mood altering factor around here. It's been a long and torturous winter and at last we are allowed to don our t-shirts and shorts, and if you're lucky and you don't suffer from athlete's foot, even sandals.
Another highlight of the week is that my driver's license has come in the mail yesterday. Yes, I passed the exam but no one describes the event better than my examiner: "Well, the good news is you barely passed it."
Hear hear. Time is ripe to buy a car.
Moroeover, I will be going to Romania on May 13. And, for those of you who know me and understand Romanian, I will bring "Marfa". Dad knows what I'm talking about.

Peace out everyone. Have a great Week-end and enjoy life!

Be Lost in the Call

2007-03-28T10:58:00.000-07:00

Be Lost in the Call

Lord, said David, since you do not need us,
why did you create these two worlds?

Reality replied: O prisoner of time,
I was a secret treasure of kindness and generosity,
and I wished this treasure to be known,
so I created a mirror: its shining face, the heart;
its darkened back, the world;
The back would please you if you've never seen the face.

Has anyone ever produced a mirror out of mud and straw?
Yet clean away the mud and straw,
and a mirror might be revealed.

Until the juice ferments a while in the cask,
it isn't wine. If you wish your heart to be bright,
you must do a little work.

My King addressed the soul of my flesh:
You return just as you left.
Where are the traces of my gifts?

We know that alchemy transforms copper into gold.
This Sun doesn't want a crown or robe from God's grace.
He is a hat to a hundred bald men,
a covering for ten who were naked.

Jesus sat humbly on the back of an ass, my child!
How could a zephyr ride an ass?
Spirit, find your way, in seeking lowness like a stream.
Reason, tread the path of selflessness into eternity.

Remember God so much that you are forgotten.
Let the caller and the called disappear;
be lost in the Call.
- Rumi

2006-12-28T10:46:00.000-08:00

I am the wind
And summer skyes;
The edge of the moon
In the corner of her eyes.

I am desert dunes
Lost beneath your naked feet;
And joy and pain
We cause to meet.

I am lofty dreams
For everyone,
But most of all
I am
No one.

2006-08-03T13:24:00.000-07:00

Night blooms and wraps
The sky a black petal.
Nicodemus finds his peace
At last in her arms.

October comes and folds
Every wildflower to her stone bed,
Black and white stills without
Frames - the muted trees.

Nicodemus, Nicodemus,
Art thou still breathing ?
Or hath slumber entangled you
For ever more ?

Pray for me,
And remove the burning sting
Left by the tears in your eyes.