MLK's Legacy

From our listserv on Sat, Jan 17, 2026:

Dear SMAD members,

Tomorrow is the day we honor Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He is often recognized for his "I Have a Dream" speech. I consider this unfortunate because he stood for so much more. We have two queries:

1. Name one other quality or action you admire about MLK. Elaborate on why you chose this.

2. Think of a dream that you would choose for our society. What would the realization of your dream look like?

What I'm thinking:

1. I admire MLK's scholarship, his commitment to a life of the mind.

2. My dream is for more civil polite even joyous sharing among subcultures who need to bury the hatchet between them, for example Freemasons and Catholics, Jews and Muslims, Friends and militants.

In practice, I follow MLK's scholarship into Mithraism and look for ways to intertwine my Quakerism with same. 

Sacrificing the bull is maintaining control (self control) over the stubborn (bull-headed) Ego; mind-over-brain in Bucky's talk.

With Mithraism came a kind of egalitarianism among militants that negated and/or transcended rank, making us all equals in the eyes of God, and/or in having God within. 

Imperial Rome may have found Mithraism less adequate as a tool of authoritarianism than Pauline Christianity, per suggestive lectures by predictive history expert Xueqin Jiang.

SMAD = Sunday Morning Adult Discussion, a program offered through Multnomah Friends Meeting.

XRL: Extreme Remote Living

CLIP: CAMPGROUNDS

CLIP: TRAIN TUNNEL

Work and Play Patterns (GST)

The design based on volunteers working many jobs, playing many roles, in succession, not necessarily in the same order as one another, has an egalitarian flavor when you assume everyone eventually does every job (even if that’s impractical in some situations). Because in a sense there’s just one job: to perform all the roles of the community, and everyone does it.

That’s how we did a lot of stuff around the Centers Network. When I say “we” I mean I was one of the volunteers, and there were sequences, like in college. You needed to be a mic runner before you did some job that involved supervising the mic runners. 

I rose to the level of Logistics Supervisor, which in the New York City situation might mean hailing a Checker cab and transporting beaucoup bankers boxes full of supplies from Port Authority East Side Bus Terminal (where NY area center had space) to whatever hotel ballroom venue (we’d book some of the bigger ones, right downtown). 

When I look at it that way, I realize my high comfort level around being in hotels and mingling with its paid staff (Centers Network did have paid positions, in addition to us volunteers), did not all start in a later chapter, when I’d work with Holdenweb and later Open Bastion. 

In fact, come to think of it, may comfort level around hotels might trace back to Kent Bondi days. His dad was manager of the Cavalieri Hilton and their whole family lived on the premises. Room service every night seemed ideal to me. Get on the phone: “send me a milkshake”. Utopia. And lets not forget the Fairmont.

However, hotels are not usually run on the principle of volunteers rotating (more could be). You’ll find more of that in unprogrammed Friends, the Quakers, where million-dollar properties with substantial budgets, as certified nonprofits, might be managed entirely by unpaid yet committed Meeting people. 

When the offspring of said meetings (GWYF) gathered at near Myrtlewood, Oregon, renting facilities at the Church of the Brethren’s Camp Myrtlewood (with paid caretakers, whom we cherished), we’d rotate through meal prep, dishwashing, cleanup and janitorial, fireplace duty, other duties I could continue listing out.

Amidst all these amiable volunteers, we’d have stars who would take up pre camp duties, such as meal planning and supplies procurement. This place was remote, so we packed in most of our requirements, think a hundred people over four to five days (mas o memo). The commitment to specific standards in cuisine is a marker of ethnic identity and we were mostly Cascadians which has its Asian characteristics (not limited to fresh tofu, which we brought in by the bucket full).

Those involved in these role would likely be foodies who also wanted to serve as chefs. Their roles were somewhat typecast. When they showed up, that’s what they did, and were expected to do. I recall helping out with procurement and transport, but in the kitchen I’m usually not the head chef although in Food Not Bombs days I’d be close to that sometimes.

A skilled ski instructor might be a harder to find and would tend to spend relatively less time doing dishes, though doing some of that might be welcome respite for hard work on the slopes. 

A lot depends on a camper’s goals. Are you joining in gain experience and acquire skills (soft and hard) or are so-called chores entirely ancillary to your main purpose, and so you are fine with doing your share, but without great ambition to do more?

Speculative Screenwriting

:: old haunt; more built up than in my day ::

Since everyone is speculating like crazy about what unfolded the other day in VZ, I feel as a kind of screenwriter I should offer my own idea of a recap. 

I’m not suggesting Netflix pick it up for the official version. That’ll be Frontline’s job, right?

I’m gonna have the VZers portrayed as still not entirely persuaded that Monster U is outta control. They were speculating the inner circle had moderating handlers who could keep it melodramatic without going over the top, to use Biden’s phrase. 

But when like-minded meet in Florida, there’s no putting the genie back in the bottle. 

As “commander in chief”, there’s this mystic ability to green light what anyone else would consider a highly improbable scenario. You need a scapegoat to really commit to the most unpopular decisions. When JFK red-lighted a couple outrageous things (vs green-lighted), deviating from his script… we saw the consequences.

What am I saying? That the VZers were taken by surprise and so didn’t mount a significant resistance. They were disbelieving the months of hype and bluster?

Even with all the big arrow armada movements, they still didn’t think the escalation would be that steep (as in vertical). Wasn’t this all Made for the USATV couch potatoes? They like to see glorious victory celebrations with lots of pomp and circumstance (lots of ribbons, hero awards). When in Rome. 

Now they know.  That’s why people are now saying: Greenland, get ready. Canada too. Cuba, Columbia… Nigeria… we’re just getting started.

So now the world knows too: there are no brakes left in Washington DC. That city is indeed a Monster U. Its think tanks are world-renowned for their inferior quality.

I used to call it the City of Morons. Same diff.

Maybe the miscalculation was the Pentagon brass thinking a “stony silence” — as they were being harangued to go against their oaths — was somehow going to mean something to their commanding bosses. It meant compliance is what it meant.

global gossip

Ramping Up

Our take on the Evelyn Wood Reading Dynamics tactic of "doing a recall" (closed book) to cement new knowledge: why not add in a prompt and resulting generated image as an aide-mémoire?

 
The above image is quirky enough to stick (you want quirky; cite The Art of Memory, F. Yates): a tired Santa, like a childish belief, is ready to be retired, and is set upon by the guardian macrophages, charged with keeping the red blood cell fleet in good repair. Cull the oldies.

Likewise when doing Knowledge Engineering: keep the toolset up to date. Or think of outdoor gear in a challenging environment. Think Winter Term.

 
The detailed prompt is saved in Flickr (the picture goes there) but is semi-irrelevant in its details; other than to show how one might encapsulate a homework session on the structure and function of the spleen, that small organ at the tip of the pancreas engaged in bloodwork.

 

The concrete Hs above stem from Grok's misinterpretation of how a Dolos should look. A what? 

Dolosse are concrete elements used in large numbers to build up breakwaters, which are partially submerged barriers to unfettered shore-bashing, during storms or even tsunamis. The ocean's fury is partially absorbed by these artificial reefs.

Crescent City (Cascadia) has such breakwaters made mostly from Tetrapods, an alternative concrete element, a caltrop (as in Quadrays). Related shape: the jack (XYZ).

The analogy we wish to introduce goes back to our Tetrahedron (a grand central) in that opposite edges of a regular Platonic version are mutually perpendicular, yet not touching.

As such these opposite edges akin to the design of the Dolos, and also to the centrioles in the centrosome, that eukaryotic cell organelle responsible for anchoring the cell's cytoskeleton; and in pulling apart the  strands of DNA during mitosis, such that each resulting cell has its copy of the original.

 

The pillar against which the bicycle leans continues the Rust Never Sleeps color palette much of Portland has chosen. Rust, owing to oxidation, is not an irrelevant topic when it comes to hematology and the role of iron in the body.

Marty Supreme (movie review)

So I was back at The Bagdad (that’s how it’s spelled, no h) in my favorite seating area, not too close, taking in this film I’d seen the preview (trailer) for the last time I was here, a few days ago. I’m within walking distance; I get a senior discount.

Marty is the epitome of “driven” meaning in this case he’s crazy-good at ping-pong which he’s coupled to a sense of destiny. At first I experienced the opening shift into a biologically-based reverie, like a medical documentary (about sperm meets egg), as jarring; but then jarring is OK in many a dark ride (theme park talk) and in retrospect (after sleeping on it) I see its point: Marty’s “drivenness” is greater than consciousness, more than just ego. He’s aware of that too. He feels chosen.

The backdrop is Japan rebuilding after WW2 and coming to terms with what had just happened. Sports are a common language, as the Olympic Games recognize. Ping-pong was just as important in creating a positive relationship between Americans and Chinese (fast forward; the film is set in the 1950s), in the Nixon Era. The characters each have their own motives. Marty is Everyman.

The Marty world is deeply unconscious, mired in the ant colony of New York, with its own metabolism, its gut. Marty is both digesting and being digested, with a foray to New Jersey not being any less adrenalin-infused. Gun fights. A mad dog. An exploding gas station. This movie has it all. The texture is close to noir, despite being in living color. Just replace ping-pong with boxing.

I didn’t especially like or look up to Marty, but then why should the point be some moral judgement? Who cares if we’d ever be friends; I wasn’t born yet and I suck at ping-pong. The point is to immerse oneself in a milieu, to soak up a set of scenes, and for that, one needs to be receptive, which I was. “Learn from, don’t judge” is my mantra.

My movie-watching skills are pretty good. I didn’t have to take any bathroom breaks, not last time either. I did drop my cell phone a couple times (it was on mute) and one time it slid under the seats to the next row, where I wouldn’t have found it until the lights came up, however a nice person saw where it slid and handed it back to me, even though this meant leaving her seat and crossing an aisle to do so. New Year’s Resolution: put the goddamn phone away.

The film deals a lot with shame, challenging the audience to see a lot of envelope-pushing, as lines were crossed. Marty is so over the top, especially in his relationship with fame and glory. He sees himself as a top star, a celebrity, a true hero, and wants access to the big leagues. He confronts what a lot of us confront: a reality in which we’re pre-judged to be losers, and full of skeptics if we think we have something to prove. 

Marty is not only driven to succeed, he succeeds, in his own dimension. However his success is thanks to his preternatural skill, which comes more as a gift than as something self-willed (not that he doesn’t ever practice).

So is it that reviewers hated the play? Is that why the actress (the star) was in tears? 

Wake Up Dead Man (movie review)

Like with Hunger Games (we saw a preview -- for November 2026), this Knives Out franchise snuck up on me. This was episode two of three said the blurb I checked before going. Seeing the word "standalone" was reassuring. No priors required.

Hey, what a well-made movie! A whodunnit murder mystery that pokes fun at itself and the genre, while milking for all it's worth (which is a lot when the handling is expert). 

I didn't kick myself for not solving it beforehand, just based on the clues, Sherlock Holmes style. I'm not a superman. Yet the plot steered refreshingly clear of the supernatural elements i.e. any cheap ex machina plot devices (so-called miracles).

Mostly, the film developed my hunger for a bully pulpit; to have permission to unleash like that, the way those Catholics do, it least in the movies (a lot of them B-grade black 'n whites on late night television). 

Quakers in my lineage (unprogrammed) don't do fire and brimstone like that. I was called back to est -- which was never "like Tony Robbins" gimme a break. More like EBN (OK, Tony is part of it).

RIP Wikieducator

Archeological traces:

• WayBack Machine 
• Flickr Album

Spaghetti Monster

More Noiring

Viale Parioli 25 on Google Earth

At the time, musing on the FX2 (articulated bus), listening to tunes, probably minimalist techno, I thought seeing Nuremberg would mark my break, from the noir streak. I'd been binging on noirs.

Well, contrary to my expectation, I'm back to noir-ing. Last night it was The Harder They Fall, Bogart's last. He passed away shortly after that.

Let's remember I came in in the 1950s, and I recognize those cars (the ones in the movie), but back then Bogart seemed impossibly old to me, and that's the relationship I canned: me the little guy, Bogart the craggy old man, right up there with Rod Steiger, but even craggier.

Rod Steiger was in this one too, by the way, and I'll get back to a story about him.

What amazes me is although I've always seen Humphrey Bogart as so much my elder, now today I'm ten years older than when he passed. "I'm older than Humphrey Bogart" says the wondering homunculus, the one who asks what time it is.

As is characteristic of a person my age, a senior as we've agreed to call us, which has resonance from high school, and also college, I'm given to perspectivals (made up word; retrospectives) of one kind or another, in my case reminiscing about Wanderers during the decades we'd meet almost weekly, alternating mornings and evenings for the convenience of different lifestyles.

I'd go to almost all, regardless of time, because the venue was so walkably convenient in my case, whereas others would need to cross town. Given I've been an avid blogger this whole time also, you'll find many of these meetups written up herein (check out Grain of Sand and BizMo Diaries for the other 2/3rds).

The way I tell local history is in terms of concentric spheres:

1. Pauling House; boyhood home of Linus Pauling is in..
2. Asylum District, a business / marketing name in keeping with...
3. Keep Portland Weird, so Greater Portland (GP), also known as Metro (several counties)...
4. Silicon Forest has a big presence in GP, we could even say origins, but spreads...
5. throughout Cascadia, distinguishing us from Silicon Valley, a parallel but different universe centered around the Bay Area

To recap my own bio: born in University of Chicago but we Urners moved to Portland, Jack and Carol having met in Seattle at U Dub. Jack's career as a planner took us to Rome, Manila (where I vectored off to college and a life on the east coast), them on to Cairo, Dhaka, Thimphu, Maseru. I vectored back to the west coast to resume living in Portland (1980s) where I've been ever since.

So, with that as context, my Rod Steiger story: we were told (but is it true?) that he and Claire Bloom were among the previous tenants at our Rome address of Viale Parioli 25.

Also, back to the Bogart movie: it features a boxer, a big, gentle Andre the Giant type guy who can't box worth beans but he's big and looks dangerous, so they build him up as Toro of the Andes. When they introduce him to the boxing ring, the announcers says he weighs in at some 270 plus pounds, a heavyweight. Except not only am I older than Bogart, I'm heavier than Toro.

Rod Steiger really made an impression on my younger self with his performance in Illustrated Man. Claire was in that one too.