Monthly Archives

January 2025

Game On.

Walk with me in this first week of the New Year. Grab your boots, though. My neighborhood park is rain-drenched and muddy – good for sliding, good for fungi, some of which shine with the wetness in reflective beauty, good for the drought-stressed environment.

I had a fun experience this morning even before I entered the woods. During my routine perusal of the news, I got hooked by a Merriam-Webster game asking people to look at a GIF – one of those gimmicks that show things in motion – that displayed words in fast succession. The idea was to take a random screenshot and whatever word you captured would be the lead for the year. Well, folks, I got UPLIFTING.

Screenshot

And just to show how my brain works, I thought “maybe that is the word they trickily provide for everyone to help us enter 2025 a bit more hopefully.” So I played the game again to test my hypothesis, and got – TOXIC.

There you have it – I will report on toxic events this year, but I will do it with the goal to uplift us all by utilizing our grief to be a catalyst for change. Game on.

Of course I’ll report on inherently uplifting things as well, often connected to science and the way activism has managed to protect us and/or our environment. Here are a few highlights from 2024:

Conservation Wins:

Close to home, salmon returned to Klamath river, after dams came down. Gray whale populations rebounded, as evidenced by a 33% increase in migration counts. In Everett, Washington, voters approved a ballot initiative that grants the Snohomish River watershed the rights to exist, regenerate and flourish. City residents, agencies and organizations can now sue on behalf of the watershed, and any recovered damages will be used to restore the ecosystem. Also in Washington, voters upheld the 2021 Climate Commitment Act by voting no on Initiative 2117.

Further East and South: Barbed-wire fences, maiming and killing wildlife, are removed or replaced with friendlier barries for hundred of miles in Wyoming and at the Montana/Idaho border. Wolf populations boom in California, and the first pack has been introduced to Colorado. California has introduced “pop-up” wetlands for migrating birds, by paying central valley rice farmers to flood their fields earlier in the fall and let them stay flooded longer in the spring.

Health Breakthroughs:

Looks like scientists found the next best thing to an HIV vaccine: the new drug Lenacapavir can prevent infection for up to 6 months after receiving the shot. 630.000 people still die of AIDS-related illness every single year. There are also ever more efficient vaccines against malaria and cervical cancer on the market – a child dies every minute of the former and 350.000 women globally every year of the latter. (It remains to be seen how the vaccine battle will unfold under the new administration in the U.S., of course. Anti-vaxxer sentiment is growing.)

Climate Change Modifications:

Solar power is advancing at a brisk clip, across the world. Washers, dryers, furnaces, water heaters, and stoves are becoming more energy efficient and also getting cheaper. Diesel-fuel powered school busses are starting to be dropped for EV busses across the country (there are half a million school busses on the road in this country…) It will not only be better for the environment but also save costs. People are realizing that small personal steps – eating 10% less meat, re-wilding your garden as just 2 examples – can have a cumulative impact.

(Long read for this week about personal contributions: What If We Get it Right? by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson. ((Here is an 8 minute listen of an Ari Shapiro interview with the author, that provides the gist.)) Great mix of essays and poetry.)

And then there is “Chonkus.” Researchers isolated a new microorganism, cyanobacterium UTEX 3222, nicknamed “Chonkus,” for its ability to consume carbon dioxide. If it could be genetically engineered, “this single-celled organism’s natural quirks could become supercharged into a low-waste carbon capture system” to fight climate change. More about Chonkus here. A possibility, not yet a reality, but hope for a future.

***

Any toxic part, after these uplifting news?

Unfortunately, yes. Repression of climate and environmental protest is intensifying across the globe. (Climate protests refer to general demands about environmental protection, environmental protest is often the local resistance towards damaging projects.) The details can be read here. But the upshot of research looking at the reaction to global protest movements that have surged over the last years, given the proximal climate catastrophes experienced by so many, is this:

  • A large number of anti-protests laws have been introduced since 2019. “Anti-protest laws may give the police more powers to stop protest, introduce new criminal offences, increase sentence lengths for existing offences, or give policy impunity when harming protesters.”
  • Protest is criminalized and brought to the courts. This includes applying terrorism charges to non-violent, direct action groups. Criminalization also implies that corporations can take out injunctions against protesters.
  • Harsher Policing. “This stretches from stopping and searching to surveillance, arrests, violence, infiltration and threatening activists. The policing of activists is carried out not just by state actors like police and armed forces, but also private actors including private security, organised crime and corporations.”
  • In some countries environmental activists are killed, countries that include Brazil, the Philippines, Peru and India. In Brazil, most murders are carried out by organised crime groups while in Peru, it is the police force.

Seen in the middle of the park. secured in case someone wants to carry a tool heavy box over a mile to the next road?

The clock is ticking, and we are reaching or already have reached tipping points with regard to how our planet and all those living on it can be saved. Change requires political action, which so far, with few exceptions, has been lacking on a grand scale. By criminalizing protesters, you shift the focus from politics to “crime,” allowing you to continue with the old ways, committing irreparable harm.

The canaries in the coal mine? Why, insurance corporations, who are refusing to insure against fires, floods and other climate-related damages in ever larger numbers. They know the danger is real, as is the unwillingness of corporations and governments alike to do the necessary things about it.

“A conservative estimate of the homeowner insurance gap is $1.6 trillion in uncovered risks. That’s mostly being borne by people who are relatively poor or live in acknowledged flood and fire zones. Everyone in the insurance industry expects that gap to grow, as risks metastasize and are priced into policies. Insurance eventually becomes too expensive for many to afford, if it’s even still available. For homeowners, skyrocketing premiums are too high. But insurers worry they can’t charge enough to keep up with increasing risk. The climate crisis is already rendering entire communities and even regions uninsurable.

Uninsurable properties are also often unlendable. A 2023 study in the journal Nature Climate Change found that the overvaluation of homes measured only by their exposure to floods alone was as high as $237 billion.” And people forcibly or voluntarily moving to safer regions are driving up home prices, driving out those without means to stay in relatively climate stable places. (Ref. This link is actually to one of the most dispiriting essays on climate change I’ve come across recently, discussing the price of potential political (in)action. Be warned.)

Let’s end with something uplifting: the creeks are filling, the common hazel is blossoming and the sparrows are looking for love! And we can still detoxify with music: today Barber’s Adagio for Strings Op.11.

Connecting the Dots.

Last blog for this year, looks like. I am defying the impulse to offer a balance sheet of a difficult year, or prepare a battle plan for the even more difficult one ahead. Instead, I will write about things that made me intensely happy at one point or another during the last 12 months, in hopes to get the transition into 2025 off to the right start.

Let’s begin with the fact that I am embedded in or adjacent to a ton of people who are highly creative. The range runs from (inter)nationally renowned artists, to successful local ones who can devote their life to making art. From published writers, painters, photographers, ceramicists who have shows, to all those people who pursue their urge to create regardless how unacknowledged their efforts will remain.

People who work 60 hour weeks and then come home to teach themselves how to make lace. People who lovingly and inventively design little flower fairy scenarios in their front rock gardens, enchanting the neighborhood with their creativity. People who make a house a home by determinedly finding the right way to paint the walls and hang the art. People who create native plant gardens that weave and flow from a dusty, dry cement desert. People who fabricate the most imaginative porcelain containers, dainty and elegant, with painted details. People who knit to the point of carpal tunnel syndrome, or embroider little creatures onto grandchildren’s crib blankets. People who weave, and those who quilt, adding new ideas to age-old crafts.

One of them is a friend who spends much of her time writing grants and breathing life into the finances of her organization, dealing with PR and recruiting advertisement, organizing membership drives and donor meetings, never mind keeping the books and making sure everyone gets paid.

Laura Grimes needed a retainer wall in front of her house and decided it had to be more than just cinder blocks. It has become a project that is creative on many levels – constructing themed mosaics from shards, remnants, beads, toys, thrift- and dollar store finds as well as generous donations from the community of the local Buy Nothing web site. I can just envision her sitting night after night in a basement experimenting with the right cement glue, the appropriately sized cinder blocks, the arrangement of a thousand trinkets and marbles, the groupings by shape and color and category membership.

It is not Art with a capital A, and I assume was never meant to be that. It is a desire to fashion something representing joy if not beauty from lots of circles and dots, or to tell a story or two, as all creative endeavors end up doing.

Maybe all these creatives convey the history of a craft, maybe they account for the requirements of a climate zone, maybe they refer to fables in their porcelain work, or maybe they speak of birds, or mermaids, or vegetables embedded in imaginary landscapes. Maybe they depict the hard truths of our time.

All of it, however, is directed at an “other,” the viewer, establishing a connection across time and/or space, letting us “read” what they have to say, or just feel gifted by the expressions they had to bestow. Art or craft engenders curiosity, instills pleasure, perhaps even admiration, linking two minds for a moment, a first step toward community. Giving one’s imagination a creative form is an act of reaching forward, outward, the possibility of forming a bond, no matter how playful or artful the base. Nothing more important in times where loneliness and division are dark clouds threatening to engulf so many. I am so happy to be surrounded by creativity offering connectedness in this way.

***

Fast forward from dotted mosaics to dotted paintings. I have always admired the defiance of African-American painter Howardena Pindell who set herself the life-long task to decry racial segregation by using dots and circles in her art – originating in her childhood experience of red dots glued to the bottom of glasses and silver ware in public restaurants, to be served Blacks only, keeping the unmarked ones for Whites.

But recently I have been completely taken in, without ever seeing it in real life, by the dot-dominated work of a painter who started in her late 70s and whose visions exploded onto the art world horizon soon thereafter. Emily Kam Kngwarray produced about 3000 paintings during the 8 years she still lived after taking up the craft, about one a day. Those of my readers lucky to live in Great Britain will be able to see a retrospective at the Tate Modern, starting July 10th, 2025. What stirs me is not just the movement and exuberance that makes these canvases come alive, but admittedly also the very notion of “late-blooming.”

Kam Kngwarray’s works on show. Photograph: National Gallery of Australia

Installation view of Kim Kngwarray’s Batiks

Kam Kngwarray grew up in a remote area of Australia, with little contact to the outside world until she was 80 years old. She was as Anmatyerre elder, and a lifelong custodian of the women’s Dreaming sites in her clan Country, Alhalkere.

“Whenever Emily was asked to explain her paintings, regardless of whether the images were a shimmering veil of dots, a field of ‘dump dump’ dots, raw stripes seared across the surface or elegant black lines, her answer was always the same: Whole lot, that’s whole lot, Awelye (my Dreaming), arlatyeye (pencil yam), arkerrthe (mountain devil lizard), ntange (grass seed), tingu (Dreamtime pup), ankerre (emu), intekwe (favourite food of emus, a small plant), atnwerle (green bean), and kame (yam seed). That’s what I paint, whole lot.” ( Interview with Rodney Gooch, translated by Kathleen Petyarre.)”

Emily Kame Kngwarreye Summer Celebration (1991)

Kam Kngwarray Alhalkere – Old Man Emu with Babies (1989) Photograph: Courtesy of D’Lan Contemporary

The connection to place reveals itself even to the likes of me who are totally ignorant about Aborigine art. The abstracted vision, paralleling Modernism or styles found in Japanese calligraphy, grasps something universal, reverberating with many of us, lightyears removed from the artist’s existence. Universal: the concept that you can embrace place, the very part of the natural (or even built) world where you live, that informs and infuses you, providing a sense of belonging. It is there for all of us, even if Western culture during the last century has tried much to dull our sensitivity to its call.

***

From dotted paintings to pearly music: Y’Y, the new recording by pianist and jazz composer Amaro Freitas makes me goose-bump happy (here is the link). It, too, encapsulates a tribute to a place, a region, the forest and rivers of Northern Brazil, featuring legends, spirits and rhythms from the Amazon and Pernambuco, where the artist grew up. The piano score is ravishing and the way he manipulates the strings by inserting soft objects like seeds, produces a creative new sound, always echoing the water drops and rivulets of the subtropical environment.

For me the album registers on a different level as well, making it special – a link to personal history. As I have mentioned often before, I am not one to spend much time perusing the past and introspecting about how life unfolded. But occasionally some glorious moments deserve to be remembered, and the album delivers the impetus, with its compositions bearing resemblances to Armenian composer Aram Khatchaturian, and Egberto Gismonti, the Brazilian musical giant.

I swear I survived adolescence only because I could bang out Khatchaturian’s Toccata (here is the music). And I mean bang out, paying no heed to differences in dynamics, just hitting the keys with rage. And one of the best experiences of my life was a backpacking trip along the Rio Negro in Ecuador, first (and, alas, last) visit to the Amazonian rainforest, captured so well in much of Gismonti’s work, and now Freitas’. Art linking to personal history, then, invites to remember the past, which in turn contains the implication of a future, where I intend to spend my energies to help connect the dots, as best I can. Just keep the creative output coming!

Happy New Year!

And speaking of connecting the dots (since this blog is dedicated to art, nature and politics, after all): I thought we might as well end 2024 on a combination of laughing, crying, screaming, and gasping at the theatre of the absurd upon us: https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v46/n24/eliot-weinberger/incoming – courtesy of the London Review of Books.)

Fluke

You never know. Here I was planning a quiet walk in one of my favorite places on earth, the place where I go to air out my soul. It reminds me of the landscape of my childhood, flat as a pancake, skies low, agricultural fields and watery flats seamed by alders and willows.

A landscape best caught in black and white for its riches of patterning and contrasts of shadow and light. A reminder, too, that black and white belongs to photography and not thinking, the need to fight rigidity of both, really, thought and feeling. A landscape that has changed across the decades of my visits without losing its essential beauty, a pointer towards aging gracefully. A place you all know by osmosis, given how often I have posted from there throughout the seasons.

Weeping Willows

I meant to contemplate 2024, in all its horrors as well as gifts, its losses and riches, and above all this sense of “What now? How do I meet the challenges before us, without losing a sense of hope and integrity? How to combat the worries that tend to overtake me? The irritability with my uncooperative body? “

It was not to be. The minute I hit the footpath on Monday, usually a solitary walk towards a dike, I saw throngs of people, strangely moving at speed back and forth, as small groups, excitedly chattering. What was going on?

A field sparrow! There’s supposed to be a field sparrow! The chance of a life time to scratch if off a Western birder’s life list, since the bird resides in the Eastern US and must have made a wrong turn. Or two. Is it here, in the blackberry patch? It is there, hiding among the reeds?

What’s a field sparrow, you ask? Beats me. It looks (and I never saw it live, had to look it up in my guide book) like a million other sparrows, even when I learned to watch for the eye rings and the pinkish beak.

But you know what? It completely changed my mood, my outlook that day, this fluke of a bird appearing out of nowhere, this fluke of me arriving at the island at just that time. It was invigorating to see people as a community, whipping out their phones to call birder friends to come on down, people showing each other photos they had taken half an hour earlier, discussing the rarity of the event, people carefully placing their tripods for heavy cameras as not to interfere with their neighbor’s, and a general sense of camaraderie, excitement and passion suffusing the air. Most importantly, regardless of the current fires sweeping the world in all their manifestations, there was this bond to nature and the wonders it offers, the willingness to stand or run in the damp cold for hours on end to catch a glimpse of a TLB (tiny little bird in my “couldn’t identify it for the life of me” vocabulary.) To be free of worry for a small window in time.

The excitement was contagious and I kept smiling for the rest of my walk, long after leaving all of them behind, entering the wetlands and communing with slightly larger birds instead.

Tuesday a library book arrived from the longish wait list, Fluke: Chance, Chaos, and why everything we do matters, by Brian Klaas. I had ordered it after reading an essay (today’s Long Read) by him that hooked me, and that you might find thought-provoking. Judging by the first half read so far, the book is interesting, written in ways completely graspable for the layperson, filled with fascinating examples, but also slightly too repetitive for this reader who likes to roar through new information.

Mist in the air

Take a typical example: Stimson, U.S. Secretary of War in 1945, persuaded President Truman not to drop the nuclear bomb on Kyoto, much against the resistance of the military brass who believed it to be the ideal target, not least because its university was the intellectual center of Japan. Why did he care? He had had a wonderful visit there with his wife in the fall of 1926, seeing it in all its historic and seasonal beauty and felt that it needed to be preserved. A total fluke. He fought for the city being spared on multiple occasions until Truman relented. It had to be Hiroshima and Nagasaki instead.

The upshot, so far, is this: we need to revise our thinking about issues of chance, the order of things, and our ability to control the way life unfolds. Infinitely complex systems like our interconnected world can be affected by minute changes, as chaos theory predicted (think butterfly effect). Every one of us should likely take less pride in our accomplishments and feel less guilty about our failures, because pure luck (the very definition of chance) affects any old outcome. It’s hard to accept the notion of random drift – then again, maybe it’s liberating? Just think of the possibility that something completely random could happen that shifts the world’s current embrace of war and authoritarianism…

As the Kirkus Review observed: The book can provoke existential unease, but it also helps explain the cockamamie nature of the way things are, and it’s an always-interesting read.

That about captures it!

And who knows, maybe the fluke of my encounter led to eating less junk food that day since I was feeling more upbeat. That in turn might improve my immune system, leading to more cancer fighting power. A random bird the cause for added years of blogging…. I’ll take it.

Long live the field sparrow!

Music today adheres to the more traditional views of orderly, controlled and willful creation with the representation of chaos at the beginning: Haydn’s Die Schöpfung.

Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah.

This was sent by a friend – I thought I’d share the welcome sentiments.

E. B. White’s Christmas – From the New Yorker 1952
 
From this high midtown hall, undecked with boughs, unfortified
with mistletoe, we send forth our tinselled greetings as of
old, to friends, to readers, to strangers of many conditions
in many places.
 
Merry Christmas to uncertified accountants, to tellers who have
made a mistake in addition, to girls who have made a mistake in
judgment, to grounded airline passengers, and to all those who
can’t eat clams! We greet with particular warmth people who
wake and smell smoke. To captains of river boats on snowy
mornings we send an answering toot at this holiday time.
 
Merry Christmas to intellectuals and other despised minorities!
 
Merry Christmas to the musicians of Muzak and men whose shoes
don’t fit! Greetings of the season to unemployed actors and the
blacklisted everywhere who suffer for sins uncommitted; a holly
thorn in the thumb of compilers of lists!
 
Greetings to wives who can’t find their glasses and to poets who
can’t find their rhymes!
 
Merry Christmas to the unloved, the misunderstood, the overweight.
Joy to the authors of books whose titles begin with the word “How”
(as though they knew!). Greetings to people with a ringing in
their ears; greetings to growers of gourds, to shearers of sheep,
and to makers of change in the lonely underground booths!
 
Merry Christmas to old men asleep in libraries! Merry Christmas to
people who can’t stay in the same room with a cat! We greet, too,
the boarders in boarding hoses on 25 December, the duennas in
Central Park in fair weather and foul, and young lovers who got
nothing in the mail.
 
Merry Christmas to people who plant trees in city streets; Merry
Christmas to people who save prairie chickens from extinction!
Greetings of a purely mechanical sort to machines that think–
plus a sprig of artificial holly. Joyous Yule to Cadillac owners
whose conduct is unworthy of their car!
 
Merry Christmas to the defeated, the forgotten, the inept; Joy
to all dandiprats and bunglers! We send, most particularly and
most hopefully, our greetings and our prayers  to soldiers and
guardsmen on land and sea and in the air– the young men doing
the hardest things at the hardest time of life. To all such,
Merry Christmas, blessings, and good luck! We greet the
Secretaries-designate, the President-elect; Merry Christmas to our
new leaders, peace on earth, good will, and good management!
 
Merry Christmas to couples unhappy in doorways! Merry Christmas
to all who think they are in love but aren’t sure!
 
Greetings to people waiting for trains that will take them in the
wrong direction, to people doing up a bundle and the string is
too short, to children with sleds and no snow! We greet ministers
who can’t think of a moral, gagmen who can’t think of a joke.
 
Greetings, too, to the inhabitants of other planets; see you soon!
 
And last, we greet all skaters on small natural ponds at the edge
of woods toward the end of afternoon. Merry Christmas, skaters!
Ring, steel! Grow red, sky! Die down, wind!
 
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good morrow!


Man, do I miss NYC at times. The mere memory of the million varieties of sufganiyot make my mouth water. Here are 2024’s recommended bakeries for this greasy dessert.

No Room at the Inn.

Christmas is upon us, and I thought I would remind us of the disconnect between the deeper truth of the narrative contained in the Christmas story on the one hand, and the way those newly elected are ignoring it despite professing to be eager to return to the “real” lessons of Christianity. I know, not what you really want to hear – “Can’t she be uplifting at least this week?”

The way I see it: after hearing what I have to say, maybe you’ll be in the mood of uplifting others a bit more, and so on net, there’s going to be more uplift in our community. For those who need it the most.

Here’s a Blitz recap of the biblical story: poor, pregnant folk forced to travel for census, (and later forced to flee to Egypt to escape King Herod’s order to kill all baby boys born in Bethlehem over the last years) seek refuge at the inn, which is denied. Birth happens in a stable. Inherent to the narrative: there are some who get in and some who don’t, there are those who are worthy and those who get to make decisions about who is and who isn’t. The moral imperative, when you read the story in the larger context of the redemption narrative, is, I believe, this: we have collective and moral responsibilities to protect the powerless and weak, to extend our support to those who suffer.

The Holy family suffered through stages of displacement and incremental, existential danger. So do millions of displaced people in 2024 – 120 million, to be precise, according to the latest report by the U.N. refugee agency, UNHCR, covering both internal displacement and refugees crossing borders due to ongoing crises and newly evolving conflicts. The report was done even before the last 6 months of the Gaza and Lebanon wars.

Despite – or maybe because – of these ever increasing numbers, the sentiment in favor of closing borders and rejecting further immigration has been steadily rising, fanned by the propaganda of right-wing sources who see a convenient tool in the scapegoating of others and by inflaming racist resentments. Curiously, you hear these sentiments even from immigrants themselves – many Latino voters explicitly turned to Trump for his promises of closing the border, firmly believing that it would not endanger them or their families as well adjusted community members, and threats of deportation were overblown. What explains this pulling up the ladder behind you, once you’ve reached a certain point?

In a more tragic example, the perpetrator of the Christmas Market attack in Germany this weekend was an immigrant from Saudi Arabia, a psychiatrist who had renounced Islam and fully embraced the neo-Nazi party’s agenda of closing the borders to asylum seekers. He killed 5 people, a child among them, and seriously hurt hundreds more, full of rage that Germany allowed an influx of Muslim refugees.

(His twitter account with 47.000 followers was conveniently cleaned of the years of comments that worshipped the AfD, the neo- Nazi party, applauded a genocide of Palestinians and threatened to kill Ex chancellor Merkel for her openness to refugees, after the attack.)

The Saudi government had warned the German authorities about his threats three times; the Twitter folks had been peppered with warnings and complaints about his racist outcries, only to ignore them. Musk, of course, just this week, gave his endorsement to the AfD in the upcoming German elections.) Is this identification with the perceived strong men in hopes they might accept you in your idolation, called by some racist assimilationism?

Let’s look closer to home, though. Last week, the citizens of Lincoln county found a personally addressed letter in their mail box, urging them to do this:

The authorities as well as some in the community reacted with an outcry, and the “Lincoln County Sheriff’s Office noted that Oregon law does not allow the inquiry of collection of a person’s immigration or citizenship status, explaining that is why deputies do not document or share that kind of information with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).

“One of the things we tell each person when they join our team is to ‘do the right thing,’” officials said. “We are encouraging our community members to do the right thing and use compassion as we encounter these types of messages.” (Ref.)

Compassion to combat racism. Hmhhmmmm.

How about education? Here are two sources that really help us understand the myths around immigration – so many of the factual assumptions that folks use to justify a closing of borders are simply wrong. Here you can read a summary by a U. Penn Wharton professor of economics, and here is a fact sheet about the myths from the folks at the International Institute at New England, neither hotbeds of radicalism….

Let me just summarize the main findings:

  • Immigrants are less rather than more likely to be criminals compared to US born individuals.
  • Immigrants are not a drain on the US economy. Quite the opposite, they contribute in many ways, taxes and the founding of new businesses which provide jobs, included.
  • Immigrants are not taking jobs from the US labor pool. The reality is that the labor market is absorbing immigrants at a rapid pace, while simultaneously maintaining record-low unemployment for U.S.-born workers. In addition, they take the back breaking jobs that US citizen won’t.
  • Asylum seekers are not just coming here for the jobs.
  • The Democratic Party did not “import” immigrants to sway the election.
  • Immigrants do not bring a culture, ideology or ideas that are harmful to the US. Overall political views of immigrants to the U.S. do not differ significantly from those of other Americans. They come to the U.S. because of their affinity to its economic and governing principles, not in spite of them.  

It is, of course, not just a discussion concerning the admission of further people seeking to live in the U.S. It is clearly about ridding ourselves of those who are already here – if they are undocumented, brown, or even born here to parents not officially part of the citizenry. We will see what will happen come January 20th and if the deportation threats delivered during the election campaign and spelled out in Project 2025 will be fully enacted.

No room at the inn? Certainly room at the prisons. We know that ICE detains an average of 37.000 people per night. Here is the history of immigration detention, from the early 1900s to know. Even the Wall Street Journal is worried about how the private prison complex gears up for the expected mass deportations and what damage it will do to the economy, much less the moral fiber of the country. Then this here from FORBES:

“WHY PRIVATE PRISON STOCKS ARE UP SO MUCH

Boosting CoreCivic and Geo Group stocks further Monday was Trump’s appointment of Tom Homan as his “border czar,” with the former acting ICE director an advocate of a “humane” but “necessary mass deportation operation.” In a conference call last Thursday, Geo Group chairman George Zoley said he expects the government to fund 70,000 to 100,000 beds in ICE detention centers, roughly double the 41,500 beds now funded. Geo Group can up its operational ICE detention center beds from 13,000 to 31,000 by next year, forecasts Brendan McCarthy, an analyst at independent research firm Sidoti. McCarthy projects $3 billion in revenue for Geo Group in 2025, a 24% jump from its blended 2024 sales.”

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! We should all become inn keepers, with open doors and even overcrowded rooms, not cages. Ethics, if not religion, demand it.

Photographs today are montages from an old series The Immigrants’ Dream.

Music from Mahalia Jackson from 1955….No Room at the Inn

And here is a jewel from 1959 – Vera Ward Hall sings the song and then tells the Christmas Story, right from Alabama.

Orange to the Rescue.

Walk with me. You have the choice of pouring rain (Tuesday) or bright sun, unseasonably warm (Wednesday.) On both days, the highlight of the visual riches in the woods and marshlands was the color orange – in many variations, sometimes subdued, sometimes fiery, at all times enhancing the cooler hues in the landscape with a pleasing contrast effect. Ever up-lifting.

In the visual arts, orange has been around for a long time. The Egyptians used it for tomb paintings, despite the fact that the pigment they employed, realgar, was derived from monoclinic crystals and was highly toxic. Medieval monks colored their manuscripts with it as well, ignorant of its effects on health.

Orange really took off in the 18th and 19th century, after Louis Vauquelin, a French scientist, discovered the mineral crocoite, which led to the production of the synthetic pigment chrome orange. The Pre-Raphaelites paved the way, with the Impressionists not far behind. Van Gogh took it to extremes, and Expressionism pledged itself to this intensive hue. Abstract artists of our own time made good use of the color as well. Below are some of my favorite examples, paired with what nature has to offer, in every which way as visually rich as what sprang from painters’ imaginations.

John Constable The Hay Wain (1821)

Sunsets are, of course, a perennial favorite. Not to be found this week, alas.

Caspar David Friedrich Das Große Gehege (1832)

Reflections rule.

J. M. W. Turner, Fighting Temeraire (1839)

The most famous of the orange suns,

Claude Monet Impression, Sunrise (1872)

and vineyards echoing the color choice.

Vincent van Gogh Red Vineyards at Arles (1888)

Light, captured,

Emil Nolde Coastal Landscape Date unknown

landscape abstracted.

Richard Diebenkorn Berkeley No 46 (1955)

Color reduction.

Mark Rothko Orange and Yellow (1956)

The strangest of them all – the man’s head below the woman’s face detectable in her lap only with a bit of help, covered by orange tresses, that might be the burn of love or loss, who knows.

Edvard Munch Love and Pain (1893)

Music today is dedicated by me to this ill-fated couple….

In a season where light during the darkness takes on a certain symbolism, (Hanukkiahs and Christmas trees, I see you!) the brightness of orange is nature’s contribution – gratefully accepted. Even when drenched in rain.

Here is a Long Read, suggested for the weekend. Elad Nehorai, a former orthodox Jew who writes for the Guardian, The Forward and Times of Israel, asks us to think through the implications of how the American public reacted to the murder of the healthcare CEO. He offers thoughts on how we can bring about change with non-violence and what the civil rights movement had to say about the challenges with such an approach. I thought this is a worthwhile topic during a season where Christianity celebrates the arrival of someone who was supposed to bring peace on earth, no luck so far, and Judaism celebrates a miracle of sustainability during a violent civil war …. https://substack.com/home/post/p-153227333

Thoughts triggered by Geese.

Returning Birds.

This spring the birds came back again too early.
Rejoice, O reason: instinct can err, too.
It gathers wool, it dozes off — and down they fall
into the snow, into a foolish fate, a death
that doesn’t suit their well-wrought throats and splendid claws,
their honest cartilage and conscientious webbing,
the heart’s sensible sluice, the entrails’ maze,
the nave of ribs, the vertebrae in stunning enfilades,
feathers deserving their own wing in any crafts museum,
the Benedictine patience of the beak.

This is not a dirge — no, it’s only indignation.
An angel made of earthbound protein,
a living kite with glands straight from the Song of Songs,
singular in air, without number in the hand,
its tissues tied into a common knot
of place and time, as in an Aristotelian drama
unfolding to the wings’ applause,
falls down and lies beside a stone,
which in its own archaic, simpleminded way
sees life as a chain of failed attempts.

by Wislawa Szymborska

Still awed by all the snow geese I recently encountered. And it was tempting to post Mary Oliver’s Snow Geese poem for its gratitude for unexpected beauty, or Wendell Berry’s Wild Geese with its admonition to recognize the here and now, but you know me. Szymborska hits the spot, every single time. Particularly since she depicts the death of a few unlucky birds, while I try not to think about the deaths of millions of them, saving the dispiriting topic of the bird flu (and its catastrophic implications) for another blog. We’ve had our fill of horrors already earlier this week.

I adore the poet’s sly juxtaposition of instinct and reason, both known to fail. I admire the way she describes the biological features of the birds in all their beauty, linking them to positive traits like patience, honesty and conscientiousness, but also works of art, sculptural finesse worthy of museums.

This is not a dirge — no, it’s only indignation.”

That is the feistiness I want to take into my day, my life, when contemplating mortality or dealing with the “foolish fate” of witnessing erosion of achievements, justice and equality among them, that so many generations fought for. Maybe each single life is a chain of failed attempts, indeed, but lives accumulating across centuries were clearly able to improve the world.

What was this thing about the arc of the moral universe? It’s long, but bends towards justice? If a murdered man could cling to this belief, so can we. We could even muster some sort of hope that the danger of a snowy death upon too early a return is now gone with the arrival of climate change and rising temperatures. Oh well, another “failed attempt” – at gallows humor.

Then again, we could just stick with the poet’s resigned realism. It served her well, all the way to the Nobel Prize.

No, indignation it shall be, not sorrow, indignation hatching action.

In any case. The geese were luminous and loud and basking in the California sun, grey and white geese alike. The light still radiates inside of me, providing needed warmth.

Music today is about another white bird….

Phantasmagoria.

Phantasmagoria
noun

1: an exhibition of optical effects and illusions
2: a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined
3: a bizarre or fantastic combination, collection, or assemblage

- Merriam-Webster

Since March of this year I have been working on an art project that tries to capture where we are as a nation, and speculate about some of the factors that led us to our current status quo. Trying to think out loud about it today, so bear with me, it’s going to be all over the map.

It started by renting a house in L.A. that had belonged to artist Jirayr Zorthian (1911-2004). The living room was lined with small prints of an originally large mural, Phantasmagoria of Military Intelligence, which he had been commissioned to paint by the OSS (Office of Strategic Services, the U. S. Intelligence Agency preceding the CIA,) during WW II. How did someone who fled the Armenian genocide at age 11, received an MFA from Yale and studied art in Italy during the late 1930s, become enthusiastic about Psy Ops for the military, serving first in the 603rd Camouflage Engineer Battalion and then at Camp Ritchie, working for army intelligence? I guess – and it is only my guess – when you have escaped a murderous regime, and encountered the stirrings of early fascism, and now see the country that gave you safe haven engaged in a war against fascism, you surely want to give back and join the forces. (He went on to be a successful muralist and painter, a bon vivant on friendly terms with many of the rich and famous of his time. He was known for bacchanalian parties on his sprawling property in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains, and a close friendship with the physicist Richard Feynman.)

In any case, I looked at the facsimile mural each day for a month, seeing depictions of legions of young men squeezed into pipelines of preparation for masculine jobs, a surrealist depiction of a process meant to harden and prepare them, both physically and psychologically, for battle. Allies and enemies were clearly delineated and the presented tribal conformity of the young men hinted at belonging, rather than necessarily brainwashing. Not that one excludes the other, mind you. Below is a short video about the history of the mural and provides a view of the panels.

As my readers know, for much of this year, a short burst of mistaken hope in October excepted, I had feared that this country would vote for a convicted felon and usher in the beginnings of a slide towards oligarchically-led authoritarianism. The question then and now is, of course, how this could happen. The margin of the popular vote was very, very small nationally – less than 1.5%, not a resounding mandate.

But he won news desert counties by a massive average of 54 percentage points. So there is the factor of what messages get sent, who gets reached and who has managed to find means of communication that seem to penetrate more (and are believed more) than the traditional media. The role of social media, talk shows and podcasts was important, depicting or even creating realities that would not be recognized by the opposing parties.

Of course, other factors might be equally or more important. I think one has to differentiate between a loss incurred because people did not show up to vote (1), and a victory secured because new constituencies moved towards the radical right wing (2).

(1) A lot of people who used to vote for the Democratic party or would have voted as first-time voters, decided to sit this one out. Why? Let me count the ways, all connected to varieties of hopelessness which made voting seemingly irrelevant. A large basis of the Democratic party experienced some degree of state-sponsored safety net during the pandemic, which was taken away from them in the early years of the Biden administration. What seemed to be perfectly doable was now gone, government once again forsaking a struggling group of people, and yes, the price of eggs went up. More importantly, though, since the price of eggs is not existential for the larger part of the Democratic base, solidly middle class, we were seeing no intervention by the administration regarding the skyrocketing prices of housing, health insurance, child-care support. There was no accountability – not for the industries given free reign to fleece the middle class, nor for those flouting the law, our President elect among them, who got away with everything from illegal enrichment to insurrection, thanks to Republican obstruction and AG Garland’s decisive running out the clock. The dread that the majority of Americans feel regarding climate change was ignored, for the most part, by the Biden administration, an existential fear for many that increased a sense of hopelessness. What the administration did to protect the environment did not get communicated sufficiently to the base either. And then there was Gaza – with significant swaths of voters incredulous that Harris would simply adopt Biden’s support of a state they perceive to perpetrate genocide.

(2) As it turns out, the Biden administration did pass the most economically progressive legislative agenda in two generations. Why did that not score? Because study after study finds that ‘racial resentment’ is a far bigger motivator to vote for Trump than ‘economic anxiety’. Which brings us to a factor that has nothing to do with economics: the psychological need, felt, and now expressed, by many to exist within a social hierarchy where someone is beneath them. The far-Right worked hard to reinforce and establish those structures. If you look at who benefits from turning back the clock to an earlier age of White male supremacy in this nation, you find who flocked to vote for everything promised by and associated with Project 2025, including abandonment of any efforts towards equality, diversity and inclusion: male voters.

Indeed, male Black and Latino voters as well, because they, too, are happy to abandon any notion of social equality if they can find a rung on the ladder that is not the lowest one. Anti-Black racism, the strongest historic impulse in our nation’s existence, can certainly be found in Hispanics as well, not just Whites. And who might be on the bottom? Why, a small new class of people labeled as enemies of our culture, namely trans people, an easy target. Immigrants, wrapped in narratives that were misleading at best and propaganda at worst, regarding their influx, their contributions and their purported criminality, never mind their racial origins. But then there was also a much larger group, some 50% of the population: women. Women who could be and were deemed unequal to men.

Again, the added new votes that led to the victory of the Republicans were not so much votes against the neo-liberal policies of the Democrats, but votes in favor of a promised world of domination, of identification with high-status males, and in hopes of belonging to some part of a tribe that knew to keep others in their place and keep them out of the professional realm in which they increasingly and threateningly competed with men.

Women have been deprived of the right to bodily autonomy by a Supreme Court dominated by Trump-installed conservative judges. Not satisfied by that, there are now calls for the death penalty for women who have abortions and the doctors who help them. Women have died from ectopic pregnancies and miscarriages not attended to, and infant mortality has gone up in the states that ban abortion after the Dobbs decision. Doctors are leaving those states in droves, with pregnant women increasingly deprived of gynecological care. Access to contraception has become more difficult, and there are laws proposed to hinder pregnant women from traveling to states where they can obtain an abortion. Texas is now suing health providers in other states who provide Texan patients with plan B medication. A federal complete abortion plan with no exceptions for rape or the life of the mother has been called for in republican circles.

Conservative voices are calling for a repeal of the right to no-fault divorce, and some even for abandoning the constitutional amendment that gave women the right to vote. House Republicans will have not a single woman in committee leadership positions (nor any person of color.)

Last week a study identified 30 000 pieces of deepfake pornography-related content targeting members of Congress, 25 women and 1 man. 1 in 6 women are targeted compared to 1 in 386 men. The new administration has numerous members proposed for Senate approval that are associated with sexual misconduct allegations, either adjudicated as the President himself, or with non-disclosure agreements after payments, or still under investigation. This includes the Secretary of Defense, Health and Human Services and Education Department, as well as one of the advisors in DOGE.

Broader attacks on women’s rights have historically always been associated with democratic erosion.

Here is a summary from a Carnegie Democracy, Conflict and Governance program essay that tackles the linkage between misogyny and far-right authoritarianism. (It’s long, but a riveting read since it explores the issue internationally.)

” …authoritarian views—which are associated with an embrace of traditional values, submission to authority, and a perception that the world is a dangerous place—are linked to both paternalistic attitudes about women (“benevolent sexism”) and feelings of antipathy toward women who seek equality (“hostile sexism”). The same link exists for individuals who display a strong social dominance orientation, defined as a preference for inequality and group-based hierarchies.

So, voters who hold these traditional views are drawn towards candidates who espouse them, display strong masculinity, and sanction their sexist beliefs.

“..Trump made concerted efforts to appeal to young male voters especially, tapping into their economic anxiety and sense of cultural dislocation and taking advantage of liberals’ general reluctance to speak to the struggles of men.

Once elected, the leaders  push forward regressive policies and legislation on gender-related issues that are out of sync with majority opinion or threaten vulnerable minorities. They use misogyny, endorsement of gendered violence and hate speech to intimidate and silence critics and opponents.

***

Back to my art project, then. Zorthian’s pipelines of military recruits struck me as perfectly symbolic for the scores of young men flocking to authoritarian institutions. The indoctrination by right-wing radio hosts, piping fake news and hate speech through their channels, also seemed to be captured by the convoluted apparatus. I decided to bury snippets of those murals into classical still lifes for a number of reasons. For one, I never forgot a lesson received as a 12 year-old from a Hungarian refugee, trained by Joan Miró and inexplicably ending up as an art teacher in a small German village, about the role of still lifes. Firmly established during the Dutch Golden Age, with riches accumulating from colonial exploits, these paintings provided a voyeur’s description of what the rich possessed and the poor envied. They assured the wealthy, who commissioned and paid for those beautiful renderings of their belongings, of their status and reminded those who struggled that there was something to aspire to. A notion of hierarchy, class defined.

But still lifes also remind us of domestic beauty, care of the household with the provision of food or flower arrangements, all “women’s work.” This is particularly pertinent with regard to the current fashion of “trad” wives, women who long for the traditional role assignments of earlier times, trying to serve their husbands and family and create feminine beauty round them, preferably instagrammable for lots of clicks. It is about aesthetics, but with the hidden content of ideological beliefs, just as the early still lifes were.

(Let me flag one important exception: the phenomenal 17th Century painter Rachel Ruysch who was one of the few successful women artists of the time and whose botanical still lives sprang from a distinct interest in botanical and biological sciences. My European readers can visit a first major retrospective of her work until mid-March in Munich’s Pinakothek. By mid-April it will be available in Toledo, Ohio, and by mid-August at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. Something to look forwards to! )

The combination, then, tries to capture the horrid regression of gender-related norms, the renewed assignment of gender-specific roles (battle-field/home) and our fixation on the beauty displayed in the foreground, at the expense of hate looming in the background and violence lurking in the shadows. Whether it is ignorance, indifference or fear: we blind ourselves to new realities at our own peril.

Last but not least, I added photographs of glass and porcelain electrical insulators to some of the montages. Zorthian was an avid collector of these things, and embedded them in all of his various building projects, inside and on top of walls. When I asked his foreman, who is still alive and active on the property that houses descendants and docents, what the story was with these antique beauties, he thought they just caught the artist’s interest when he bought a bunch of telephone poles to be wired for electricity lines on the ranch and they were lying around in the scrap yard. I have no idea if that is all that’s to it. They sure are perfect phallic symbols.

But for my own purposes the idea of insulation – something being prevented from affecting something else – made perfect sense for my question about the politics of the moment. We are insulated from half of the nation, not knowing what they believe or how they could possibly believe it (and vice versa), no longer experiencing a shared reality, with large swaths of the population living in some kind of phantasmagoria, a landscape of hate, sprouting conspiracy theories fertilized by denial of and hostility towards science, extending so far to question the validity of vaccines, and religious fervor that preaches the superiority of men over women, Whites over all other races.

I was surely not the only one who did not realize how many young, disaffected, perhaps economically, but certainly socially anxious men would be ready to shout “Your Body – My Choice” after the election, freed to voice misogynistic dominance by permission (and example) of the very leader they had chosen.

Today’s images are a sampling of the new series.

Music today is from Wozzeck. That opera tells the story of an impoverished soldier, abused by his superiors and traumatized by war, who murders the mother of his child for fear that she’s cheating on him.

The latest report on domestic femicides was published by the UN less than a month ago, on November 25th, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. In 2023, globally 140 women and girls died every day at the hands of their partner or a close relative, which means one woman killed every 10 minutes. Lives, stilled.

Wildfires.

In 1998, author and activist Mike Davis published a book, The Ecology of Fear: Los Angeles and the Imagination of Disaster. (I had reviewed one of his preceding brilliant analyses of the geography, ecology and politics of LA, City of Quartz, last spring here, which I mention because it gives you a short overview of the issues he was concerned with and how he approached them.) The new book included profound analyses of the danger, handling and, yes, politics of wildfires with an emphasis on Malibu.

20 years later, a Malibu fire started on November 8 and burned nearly 97,000 acres, destroying over 1,600 structures and resulting in three fatalities. More than 295,000 residents were evacuated and an estimated $6 billion in damages incurred. The folks at Longreads.com used the occasion to publish an excerpt of Davis’ book describing the history of fires at the Malibu coast, by consensus deemed the wildfire capital of North America, and a postscript he added in 2018.

Sunrise colors accentuated by smog from wildfires.

I was sent a link to the excerpt given that this week saw another Malibu fire erupt, the Franklin Fire, which seems to be less likely to develop into a monster fire like last month’s Mountain fire in Ventura County, or the earlier, massive Thomas and Woolsey fires, which exploded with disastrous winds that pushed flames for miles and grounded firefighting aircraft. Saved by luck only – the direction and strength of winds for once in favor of the fire fighters.

My own brush with fire on a California hillside this year still sits in my bones and occasionally keeps me up at night. Reading Davis’ chapter on the politics of California wildfires – the reasons why they occur more strongly and frequently, why they harm populations in inequitable ways, and why no-one considers stopping the rebuilding of houses and mansions on fire-prone hills – and even expanding further onto the wilderness – helped to focus my head on the issues, rather than give in to my soul that shudders at the memories. What he wrote in 1998 is more relevant than ever, a quarter century later.

One of the core issues lies with our approach to fire. Fire prevention tactics like nurturing large areas of chaparral and forest into old age, have actually created conditions for stronger fires, once they ignite. Horticultural fire-breaks near towns, like citrus groves and agricultural land have disappeared due to water issues or the need for more land for construction. And we insist that we have to focus on fire handling: ever new regulations specify flame retardant building materials and brush clearing, in essence “fire proofing” human habitat. More than half of new California housing has been built in fire hazard zones since 1993, with more than 11 million Californians, roughly a quarter of the state’s population, living in high-risk wildfire areas known as the wildland-urban interface.

Karen Chapple, an urban planning professor and director of UC Berkeley’s Center for Community Innovation suggests that rather than focussing on specific [wildfire] mitigation measures such as hardening homes, prescribed burns, fuel breaks, we should revise land-use planning, creating more sustainable settlement patterns around the state. (Ref.) This is particularly urgent in light of all the insurance companies now refusing to insure for damage or loss due to fire, given how costs have skyrocketed with more frequent fires. You could lose everything if you (re)build in fire-prone regions.

I very much encourage you to read the 15 minute excerpt of Davis’ book, it is grippingly written as well as informative, and might provide insights for all of us who are exposed to future potential catastrophes, given that climate change has upped the ante for fires now spreading into previously less likely areas, followed by landslides and flooding. Dare I add that the historian’s prescience, evidenced in historical unfolding of his predictions, likely extends to what now lies in wait? Here is a summary of another of his books:

Davis’s 2005 book, The Monster at Our Door: The Global Threat of Avian Flu, argues that a combination of poor government planning and a consolidation of resources in the hands of profit-obsessed pharmaceutical companies has left the world—and especially its poorest populations—dangerously vulnerable to pandemics. (The book was widely praised for its foresight during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, and it was expanded and republished that year as The Monster Enters: COVID-19, Avian Flu and the Plagues of Capitalism.)”

What can we do, in an era when this morning’s news included the announcement that R.F.Kennedy’s advisor had earlier asked the F.D.A. to revoke approval of the Polio and Hepatitis B vaccines? Never mind the development of pandemic vaccines…. If RFK gets approved to be the new health secretary, he can intervene in the F.D.A. petition as well as approval processes. I refuse to say “we are doomed.” But we should seriously think about what can be done, because we very well might be – particularly our grandchildren – if this insanity rules the day.

In the meantime, here are some photographs from Southern California with glimpses of the ecology that burns like tinder.

And Piazzolla’s musical take on hot summers.



Urban Myths

Morro Bay is a touristy little spot on coastal Highway 101 winding its way north along the Pacific beaches.

It has two landmarks, an enormous dome-shaped rock and massive chimneys from a power plant, long since decommissioned and just blighting the landscape.

The rock is actually a volcanic plug, what’s left of an extinct volcano when its ash and lava are eroded away, magma that stuck in the throat of the volcano once it cooled. It is protected as a State Preserve, but linked by a causeway to the mainland, so you can walk around there and ponder people’s indelible desire to leave their marks on the landscape…

The small town is filled with tourist shops, restaurants and motels, but also has a working harbor, with the fishermen happily throwing tidbits to the seagulls and sea lions too lazy to even move, sleeping it off on the rocks circling the moored yachts.

It is also a short, 30 minute drive away from a major tourist attraction: Hearst Castle. If willing to pay a mere $35 per person, you can visit the estate of the former media tycoon William Randolph Hearst in a 127 acres garden, a minute part of the 250.000 acres he acquired in the region. My severe allergy against tycoons prohibited me from exploring, but it served as a reminder of the fate of Patty Hearst, the magnate’s granddaughter, which brings us to today’s topic.

As a 20-year old college student, Patty Hearst was kidnapped by the Symbioses Liberation Army and went on to commit several crimes with them, for which she was later sentenced and eventually pardoned with the understanding that she might have been brainwashed to commit to the goals of the radical organization.

The term bandied around was “Stockholm Syndrome,” coined originally by a psychiatrist after an earlier kidnapping scenario in a botched Swedish bank robbery, where the hostages were claimed to develop psychological bonds with their captors and agree with their agenda and demands. It was even insinuated that they formed romantic attachments.

You can imagine my surprise, or dismay, when I learned from a recent Radiolab Podcast (verified when I did some more research) that the whole concept is based on someone’s imagination, not facts. The psychiatric assessment was originally made without ever talking to the hostages, something that did not stop the concept’s adoption into our arsenal of cultural assumptions, (here, for example is the Encyclopedia Brittanica defining it,) including the training of some 7000 police and FBI agents on how to deal with hostage situations regarding this aspect. Of note is, of course, that it never made its way into The American Psychiatric Association‘s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). “It’s never met the strict review requirements to be included; in fact, it seems that no one ever submitted it for inclusion in the first place. That means there are no identified diagnostic criteria at all for the alleged condition.” (Ref.)

If you are like me, we assumed it was something that is indeed happening when captors exert power over people fearing for their safety, turning them into acolytes. Yet, when you look at the actual unfolding of the original bank robbery, it was clear that it was the bank and the police that so completely mishandled and botched the operations, that it was no surprise the captives felt safer with the captors than with the institutional responses, without forming attachments whatsoever. There is now a whole literature that has debunked the case.

For the most part, it is women victims who are pathologized, with a focus on their “crazy” reactions, rather than the perpetrators’ arsenal of threats. No surprise, then, that the concept is often extended to domestic violence cases as well.

Canadian psychologist Allan Wade, who interviewed the original victim deemed pathological in her appeasement of the kidnapper in Stockholm, phrased it this way:

Stockholm Syndrom is “one of a whole network of concepts that … shift focus away from the powerful role of … institutional responses… Such concepts also tend to protect offenders because, instead of looking at strategies used by perpetrators to suppress victims, resistance theories such as Stockholm Syndrome and others (there’s a long list of them: identification with the aggressor, infantilization, traumatic bonding, learned helplessness, internalization, false consciousness, it goes on and on) don’t evolve focus on how victimized people have responded to and resisted violence. Rather, they assume that they did not...It’s part of a family of notions that stem from hyper-individual, problematic notions in psychology and psychiatry, rather than careful analysis of circumstances on the ground.

These practices of implanting pathologies in the minds, brains and bodies of oppressed people, they’re inherent to what we might call colonialism, patriarchy, different forms of racism, different forms of violence and oppression,” he says. “So this is not sort of an accidental or uncommon problematic way of thinking; rather, it is endemic.” (Ref.)

Before wandering off into Morro Bay’s spectacular sunsets, let me point out how easy it is to create and/or fall for these kinds of urban myths, when the concepts align with other things you believe to be true. It is also the case that we need to distinguish between misinformation (inaccurate info), disinformation (deliberately gaslighting) and conspiracy theories, which encompass the idea that malicious actors are engaging in a secret plot that explains an important event (Jewish space lasers or the government covering up an enormous death toll from vaccines, etc.) And last but not least, we have to be aware that there are those of us who are perfectly willing to admit they fell for a myth, and henceforth let the facts rule, compared to others who will cling to prior held beliefs even if it involves ignoring the facts and instead coming up with substitute justifications.

Music today from Swedish composer Hugo Alfven, his Symphony #5.

For informative readings today on the topic of how to undermine conspiracy theorizing:

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-can-you-fight-conspiracy-theories

On the topic of how misogyny increasingly affects our lives (and, alas, that of future generations,) including the pathologizing of women in violent situations:

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2025/01/america-misogyny-gender-politics-trump/680753

Highly recommended. Gilbert is one smart writer.

And if you are more in the mood for black comedy/ entertainment, here is a film about one of the criminals involved in the Swedish hostage situation.

https://www.netflix.com/watch/81215890?trackId=255824129