It’s Friday night. You’ve had a long week. To help you keep things in perspective, here’s a high-definition picture of the Earth taken by a Japanese satellite orbiting the Moon.
I don’t agree with Governor Pawlenty’s positions on a range of issues, but he deserves credit for pushing policies that safeguard the environment. Earlier this year, he signed landmark legislation that will require Minnesota to produce 25% of its energy from renewable resources by 2025. Today, he and eight other Midwestern governors signed a pact to create a cap-and-trade system to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. The states’ respective legislatures will still need to give the plan their imprimatur, but this agreement represents a significant first step towards an eventual nationwide strategy for reducing emissions. I’m not sure what influenced Pawlenty to resist the environmental rape-and-pillage mentality of his party, but I’m happy to see him offer some real leadership on the matter.
Now, if only he’d buck up and pass a gas tax increase so that we can fix our roads, bridges, and build ourselves a real transit system.
The BBC reports that scientists are able to interpret the speech signals in the brain of a paralyzed man who is unable to speak. This could eventually lead to assistive communication devices that can be controlled via thought. It could also lead to devices that can expose your private thoughts for the whole world to laugh at, but let’s try to stay positive about these things.
While I was putting together the links for yesterday’s post on homeless veterans, I stumbled across another NPR story offering a survey of must-read books of the science fiction and fantasy persuasions. Nancy Pearl, the Seattle librarian who serves as NPR’s resident book reviewer, claims that she isn’t a “fanatic” for sf/fantasy, but the title she chooses to highlight reveal a connoisseur’s appreciation for the two genres. Pearl earns my instant respect with her inclusion of Gateway and and The Forever War, two books for which I’ve held a deep fondness since I read them in college. And her praise of The Name of the Wind is sufficiently intriguing for me to add the book to my Amazon wishlist. She also lavishes praise on Cryptonomicon, a doorstop of a book that has been sitting on my shelf for the better part of a decade and one that I really should get around to in the near future.
A recent study indicates that one in four homeless Americans are veterans [PDF file]. NPR is running a series of stories about the plight of homeless veterans, including oral profiles of several vets who are or were homeless. As another commentator notes, many veterans come from disadvantaged backgrounds and are thus more likely to experience homelessness at some point in their lives. The military provides one of the few opportunities for young men and women from economically depressed regions to build a future for themselves. Veterans’ disproportionately high representation in the ranks of the homeless is stark evidence of our collective failure to support our military personnel when they re-enter civilian life. We excel at providing lip service to the patriotism of those who choose military service, but we’re even better at ignoring them once their service is complete.
To the person who submitted the comment with the 5,000+ word count: if you expect me to read your rather creepy head-scratcher of a screed, don’t use this as your introduction:
You are all disfavored. You may have been evil/preditory [sic] in your last life and this disability is how they are punishing you.
Remember the first rule of good writing: know your audience. So it’s off to the killfile with you.
Most of you probably won’t read this until Sunday, so I decided to give you some comfort reading to go with your coffee and pancakes: a story about the redemptive power of puppies. If you read the article without getting even a little misty, you’re a cold, inhuman bastard who should keep far away from children and small animals. Thanks to the invaluable Metafilter for the link.
My van wouldn’t start this morning. Since nobody was on hand to give us a jump, my nurse and I decided to throw caution to the wind and hook up the jumper cables to my ventilator battery. And to our mild surprise, the van started right up. Don’t try this at home, kids. I think I’m going to start roaming the streets and parking ramps of downtown Minneapolis in my free time, jumping stalled cars for fifty bucks a pop. I’m going to need the extra cash to pay off the hefty car repair bill I incurred later in the day. After the van wouldn’t start for a second time, I discovered that it needs a new battery and a new water pump; a rather expensive start to my three-day weekend.
In a recent ER episode, a teenage kid with a degenerative neuromuscular condition is brought in to the hospital with a severe case of pneumonia. The doctors prepare to put him on a ventilator, but the kid refuses, stating that he doesn’t want to live the rest of his life dependent on a machine. The kid persuades one of the docs to support his decision and the kid dies.
When it came time for me to be put on a vent, I was in similar dire straits: deathly ill with pneumonia and semiconscious because of the elevated CO2 in my bloodstream. I remember a team of doctors filing into my hospital room and matter-of-factly informing me and my mom that I needed to be intubated. I remember freaking out and starting to cry, but I must’ve blacked out because the next thing I knew, I was in the ICU with a tube down my throat.
In the couple years leading up to that day, my hometown pediatrician tried repeatedly to have a conversation with me about what life with a ventilator might be like, but I kept blowing him off because I didn’t want to think about it. Looking back, the transition might have been a little easier if I’d known what to expect. And I probably would have still chosen the ventilator under less urgent circumstances. Even at thirteen, I was fairly certain I didn’t believe in God and I wasn’t ready for nothingness.
I’m trying to puzzle out Pat Robertson’s endorsement of Giuliani. This is the same Pat Robertson who gave a resounding hallelujah to Jerry Falwell’s assertion that abortionists and gays were partly to blame for the terrorist attacks on 9/11. Perhaps this is consistent with the win-at-all-costs mentality that is permeating the GOP. The very real possibility of a Clinton presidency probably gives Robertson heart palpitations and he finds Giuliani’s authoritarian tendencies comforting. But it’s interesting to see how quickly family values are sacrificed at the altar of political expediency.
