Hyper-reality and the Desert of the Real

Flying into LaGuardia, the City shimmering outside the airplane window — labyrinth of light beneath squid-ink sky.  Bridges spanning black waters, buildings silhouetted against dark vistas, boulevards radiating in concentric directions. Circuit board of the digital economy.

“City of hurried and sparkling waters!” sang Walt Whitman, “city of spires and masts!  City nested in bays! my city!”

But it’s not my city.  Not anymore.  Never really was… Continue reading “Hyper-reality and the Desert of the Real”

Hyper-reality and the Desert of the Real

Homeless in Dallas

Black tarmac slips into view — tires impact — with jolt and bounce we arrive.  I’ve left New York behind, and with it, family, friends, routines, familiar places – in a word, I’ve left behind my home.  Traded it for a city with a herd of larger-than-life bronze bulls and a brassy sun.  By the way, I like it here fine.  For a two-week stay, anyway.  The issue is, splitting my time between two places – not to mention other travel too – leaves me feeling spread a little thin.  Like Bilbo Baggins, who told Gandalf, “‘Why, I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread.”  Then he briefed Gandalf on his plan: to leave his home in the Shire, to see the mountains one last time, to find a place to rest, and maybe finish writing his book. Continue reading “Homeless in Dallas”

Homeless in Dallas

More Nature, Less Technology

“You’ll be the troublemaker.” Arif gave me a sly look as he guided me to a far corner of the restaurant, and I nodded, because surely life is too short for small talk.

There were six of us seated at the table.  Four middle-aged women — each one attractive, intelligent, engaging, successful.  A quiet-spoken serious young man with a shock of brown hair.  And me, wearing camouflage-colored Yankees cap and a few days’ worth of stubble.

This was an “intergenerational dinner,” hosted by the Hoot Owl, a cozy restaurant in upstate New York with a loyal local following.  The event was organized around a series of questions designed to elicit discussion.

Anne had been tasked as the table’s guide, and now she opened with the first question – what makes you feel most alive? Continue reading “More Nature, Less Technology”

More Nature, Less Technology

Whitman and Wilmington

By Barefoot Ken

Surprise.  On the way to (yet) another race, I’ve pulled off the New Jersey Turnpike — desperate for coffee, water, a break from unpredictable traffic (speeds of up to 95 MPH) — and here I find myself, suddenly, in the Walt Whitman Service Area.  Whitman being, to some, the greatest artist America has produced.  The singer of the open road.  The poet of Democracy.  I did not know there was a Service Area named for him.  After the race I’m planning to visit his gravesite, which lies a few miles distant.  First, though, I must complete the Delaware Running Festival Marathon in nearby Wilmington, my 100th event of marathon distance or longer.  Which begs the question — what next?

Continue reading “Whitman and Wilmington”

Whitman and Wilmington

8,000 Miles Barefoot

By Barefoot Ken

In April 2021, I reached my 7,000th mile of hiking, running, and walking barefoot, accumulated over roughly seven years.  Now — five months later — the mileage stands at 8,034.  I seem to be picking up the pace.  Which supports the thesis that practice makes you stronger (at least until age catches up).  The real thesis, though, is that life is better with more nature and less technology.

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8,000 Miles Barefoot

I Sing the Body Electronic

The pivotal scene in the 2019 science-fiction film, Alita: Battle Angel, occurs when the heroine emerges from the lake, cradling a headless metallic body.  This is the shell of a Berserker cyborg warrior.  It will give Alita the strength to go into battle against her foes.  You see, Alita is herself a cyborg — the only part of her body that’s human is her brain.

The movie presents a future in which people swap out flesh and blood for technology.  For the current generation, this is fantasy, but for the next generation (or their children), maybe not.  So let’s ask the question — what’s the downside to this trade?

alita-3.png

Continue reading “I Sing the Body Electronic”

I Sing the Body Electronic

The Diogenes Challenge

The Nine is not for the faint of heart.  It’s a daunting 20-mile route which summits nine of the Catskill High Peaks — and it’s longer if you get lost, for what’s especially challenging is that five of the peaks have no trails, which means it’s necessary to “bushwhack” or move through the forest using map, compass, and GPS.  Even with this gear, navigation is no simple task, for the terrain is steep and rocky, and the forests thick and tangled, which renders “the eye of little service,” as Catskills author John Burroughs wryly noted.

I had completed the Nine, or parts thereof, on several occasions:  once trying to run it for speed, once at night, once in the winter.  In April 2016, as a novice barefoot hiker, I tried to complete the Nine without shoes, but after six of the peaks I’d had enough.  A year later I tried again and this time gave up after a single peak, defeated by the rocky trails.

Over time, my practice of running and hiking continued to evolve in a minimalist direction.  I developed an interest in “natural navigation” (moving through the forest without technology — meaning no map, no compass, no GPS).  I began to incorporate intermittent fasting into my dietary and training plans.  And I became somewhat more experienced at going barefoot.  One day these themes coalesced in my mind, and I came up with a grand plan:  to complete the Nine not only barefoot, but navigating naturally, and without carrying food or water.  I would call this the Diogenes Challenge, after the ancient Greek philosopher who advocated for simplicity and self-discipline.

Upon reflection, however, the Diogenes Challenge seemed like a little too much, even for an arch-minimalist like me.  I quietly let it slide and focused on other things.

Until one day my friend Kal Ghosh asked, when were we going to do it?

Continue reading “The Diogenes Challenge”

The Diogenes Challenge

Texas Clouds

As a teenager I studied the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche.  Now, decades later, here I was on an airplane flight from New York to Texas, rereading Beyond Good and Evil, when I came across one of his most widely-quoted aphorisms:  “When you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.”

I paused to ponder what Nietzsche might have meant.  Was this a comment on the risk of excessive introspection?  (He’d prefaced the statement by cautioning that people who fight monsters may themselves become monsters.)  Or was he expressing a concern about the spirit of nihilism, for elsewhere he wrote that the self contains an “abysmal sickness, weariness, discouragement” – symptoms of the impoverishment of life that results when the “will to power” turns against itself.

The dictionary defines abyss as “a deep or seemingly bottomless chasm.”  I imagined a tunnel deep within myself, reaching back into my distant memories, or perhaps even farther back into a realm of ancestral knowledge.  Maybe this tunnel would lead all the way back to the beginnings of life, maybe it would contain clues to the primordial forces that animate living beings.

Looking up from the book for a moment, I glanced out the airplane window and found that staring straight at me was — a cloud.

This was a year or two ago.  Since then this strange idea has stuck with me, namely, that deep within the abyss you might find a cloud….

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Texas Clouds

Swinging Birches

A week or so ago, our friends Ann and Jules invited me and my wife over to dinner, and after an excellent meal, Ann played a recording for us.  It was the poet Robert Frost, reading his poem, “birches“:

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.

But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay
As ice-storms do.
Having just returned from a hike in the Catskills, I had to interject here and point out that in the mountains of southern New York, it’s not the birches that are bent over after winter storms, but rather the fir and spruce saplings, which are often crushed to the ground under heavy loads of snow.  Robert Frost lived in New Hampshire, I explained, and no doubt conditions up there are different.
Needless to say, on the very next hike in the Catskills, I was overwhelmed by bent-over birches….

Continue reading “Swinging Birches”

Swinging Birches

Walt Whitman’s Speciman Days

In Whitman:  A Study, east coast naturalist John Burroughs presented his friend Walt Whitman as the poet of democracy, primal man, visionary of the open air, barbarian in the parlor, force of nature, prophet.  The famous literary critic Harold Bloom goes even further, placing Whitman on par with Shakespeare and describing him as “the greatest artist his nation has brought forth” and “as close to an authentic American saint as we will ever know.”  I was thus very excited recently to come across Whitman’s memoir, Speciman Days, which would give me a chance to better understand the poet’s vision.

Speciman Days is not a conventional life story but rather a series of vignettes.  What I loved the most was how Whitman described the simple experience of being outdoors, which was for him a source of health, joy, and even ecstasy, and also the standard of beauty against which he judged art and literature.  In fact, the outdoors life was in his view critical for “the whole politics, sanity, religion, and art of the New World.”  Without a direct connection to nature, he warned, American democracy would “dwindle and pale.”

Readers of this blog won’t be surprised that I sympathize with this view.  But in modern America, the outdoors life is for the most part a thing of the past:  according to recent data, the average American today spends only 7% of their time outdoors.

Should we be worried?

American time indoors pie chart

Continue reading “Walt Whitman’s Speciman Days”

Walt Whitman’s Speciman Days