Earl vs. New York 2140

Despite my wavering ambivalence of Kim Stanley Robinson's work, I continue to read his books.

I purchased New York 2140 from the West Edmonton Mall Chapters in 2017. As with many of Robinson's books, I found my greatest enjoyment in his worldbuilding and theme while struggling to work my way through his baffling characterization and prose. (I will say that this time around some of his characters come close to resembling human beings.) But at last, after nine and a half years, I have finished the book. 

In Robinson's imagined future, the sea level in the vicinity of New York has risen some 50 feet. Its residents have adapted by creating a Venice-like existence, Manhattan's streets now waterways. 

Strangely, aside from the comeback of airships--for travel, shipping, and anchoring floating communities in midair--there's very little mention of technological change in this novel, such as details on adaptive mechanisms for the higher sea levels, resilience measures, computers, transportation, what's going on with space exploration, health care, and so on. Aside from the airships and the sea level change, this book feels like it could have taken place in 1988. 

Robinson's central concern here is economics. The novel is a critique of unfettered capitalism and the harm its done to the world and its people. And by the time we reach the end of this 600 page novel, there's a peaceful revolution wherein the people of the United States and elsewhere in the world force the trillionaires to pay their fair share of society's burdens. 

(So this is a science fiction novel, after all, ha-ha, as Robinson might write.)

There are two action scenes--a midair floating city rescue, and a whopper of a hurricane that precipitates the revolution near the novel's end. Robinson somehow manages to make both of these scenes boring. 

This isn't to say that I don't appreciate the novel. I think its message is important, and the solution the characters find at the novel's climax something we might apply to our current situation. Indeed. I think if I'd read this back before Trump, its impact would have been somewhat lessened. As history has played out in recent years, I find myself thinking that Robinson's prescription might be needed about 120 years earlier than predicted. 
 

ANDREA AND GREG!!!

It was great to see my old U of A friend Andrea and her fantastic husband Greg again last night; they've been living in the UK for some time and made it out to Alberta to visit relatives and friends. Always a great pleasure! 

Sunday with Steven

It's always nice when old friends come to visit, and this weekend and I Sylvia and I have the pleasure of hosting Steven Neumann, who I met waayyyyy back in 1987 at a University of Alberta Star Trek Club meeting. I wasn't even 20 back then, and now we're closing in our 50s fast. Yikes. 

Spheres

The Spice, Malaise

2P or Not 2P With TV

Tonight Sylvia and I accompanied her father, cousin and a friend to the Cactus Club restaurant attached to West Edmonton Mall. The company and the meal were fine, but when I retired to the bathroom to wash the juices from my very messy lettuce-wrapped Thai chicken from I hands, I was stunned to see how well-appointed it was. A luxurious leather easy chair occupied one corner of the loo, but while unusual that's not what really caught my eye. No, the bulk of my attention was drawn to the television monitors place above each urinal, a baseball game unfolding on each screen.

Have we come so far, I wondered, that even during the few seconds it takes to urinate we need to be entertained by the idiot box? I'm a fan of popular culture and television, but honestly - what a waste of resources. It struck me as decadent in the worst sense of the word.

Pursuing Trivia, Rock Bandmates

Captain Seanmerica

Shame

Yesterday I walked the length of West Edmonton Mall twice in an effort to burn off some calories. During that walk I remembered an encounter at the mall's Orange Julius, an encounter that in turn reminded me of an incident that still shames me.

I was fourteen or fifteen years old when the members of Leduc Junior High School's gifted program were escorted into a minibus for a field trip. One of the girls in the program sat down next to me, smiled, and for reasons I can't understand or explain, I left my seat and retreated to the back of the bus. My friend Mark threw me a well-deserved look of disgust and sat down with the girl, who was visibly upset by my behaviour.

I don't know why I shunned her, someone I barely knew, someone who had never harmed me. It might have been shyness or maybe I just wanted to be alone and couldn't bear the social burden of conversation; I really don't know. All I know for sure is that I hurt her feelings.

Years later - sometime during my university years or shortly afterward - I ran into the same girl, now an exceptionally beautiful young woman, working at the Orange Julius in West Edmonton Mall. We exchanged greetings and shared stories about what we'd been up to since junior high. She was exceptionally gracious and kind, which of course only shamed me further. I tried very hard to apologize for my aberrant actions, but the words formed a thick, sickly lump in the pit of my stomach and wouldn't budge from that dark sanctuary.

To compound my sins, I'm not even sure I remember her name; if I had to guess, I'd say it was Monica, or maybe Meredith. I do remember the look of bewildered hurt and betrayal on her face, and her kindness those few years later.

There's an old Superman novel by Elliot S! Maggin in which he introduces a simple axiom:

There is a right and a wrong in the universe, and the distinction is not very difficult to make. 

I always admired that philosophy, but as I've grown older I realize that life is more complex. There's a right and a wrong in the universe, sure; that the distinction isn't difficult to make, maybe, under most circumstances. But having the strength to do the right thing...sometimes ordinary humans just don't possess it. My moral compass certainly failed me twice when it came to my interactions with Monica/Meredith, and I regret it to this day.

Earl vs. the Coach Handbag

Today I met Sylvia at West Edmonton Mall after work.

"I bought a new bag!" she said, eyes gleaming as she held up a large, squarish rainbow-striped bag. It seemed to be made of paper. "It's a Coach!"

She mentioned how much she paid, and I stared at the bag, somewhat dumbfounded. I tried to hide my reaction.

"It sure doesn't look like that bag is worth that much money, but if it makes her happy..." I thought.

My dubious expression must have given me away, for Sylvia suddenly stopped explaining the bag's virtues in mid-sentence.

"Earl. EARL. This is not the bag. This is just a shopping bag. The Coach bag is inside."

"Oohhhhhhh," I said.

She's since shown me the real bag, and I must admit - it's a beauty. Much nicer than the shopping bag!