Summer Flies

Not actual size

That could be a pun.  Summer always did seem to fly by when I was younger.  I can't say that it has slowed down as I age, but it does seem to be more miserable with the heat and the drought (except when my grandson comes over to mow the yard; then it rains--or threatens to rain).  Another misery that seems to be worse this year is the flies.  

The common housefly is all too common this year.  We had a bit of an invasion earlier in the summer, wherein my great granddaughter and I competed to kill every fly that we saw.  It was actually rather fun, and it brought back memories of East Africa.  

My late husband and I were given a house (duplex, lower floor) by the company he worked for in Dar es Salaam.  The living room had a sitting area with a built in divan shaped like a horseshoe.  There were windows on two sides of the room and ventilation slats.  The flies were everywhere--everywhere in East Africa.  My husband, both handy and clever, bought mosquito netting (screen wire for windows was not available in Dar right then) and stapled it to the outside of the windows.  That protected us from mosquitos for the most part, but flies are quite clever in finding a way into the house.  We had several fly swatters, and, lacking TV or other entertainment, we often sat in the living room in the evening, talking and killing flies.  I recall with some pride my "winning score" of five flies with one swat.

I would usually sweep up the day's debris and the dozen or more dead flies we had killed and dump it all in the trash can before we ended the evening and went to sleep.  A few times, of course, I was tired (or lazy!) and left the pile to be dealt with in the morning.  After a while, I noticed, when I did that, that the flies were missing from the pile.  I had thought they were surely dead the night before, but apparently some of them must have recovered and flown elsewhere.  

One evening the mystery was solved.  We heard a splat sound from the kitchen.  I ran in to see what had happened and saw the kitchen gecko on the floor.  He normally lived on the ceiling, but, it seems, he had been overindulging in the free banquet that we were providing in the evening's trash pile.  He had apparently gotten too fat for the little suckers on his feet to hold him on the ceiling.  So, splat!

This summer, we had a second infestation of flies.  Tiny red ones.  They were a misery, and they were too small to hit with a fly swatter.  I eventually searched the internet to find out about red house flies and discovered fruit flies.  The apple in the fruit bowl!  Summer entrances and exits, with the door held open too long, and that feast in the fruit bowl had attracted a mama and her babies.  Not feeling sentimental, I found an light trap with sticky inserts to catch them.   When that didn't work fast enough, I discovered that a bowl of apple cider vinegar with a little dish soap to break the surface tension of the liquid might work.  It did, like a charm.  

As I am preparing for another adventure in New York, I thought to clean up the light trap and insert a sheet of stickum in case any more surprise visitors show up in my absence.  The used one was fully covered with the remains of dozens of those pesky fruit flies.  Sadly, when I removed the sticky part of the trap, I found a little lizard (deceased) stuck to the surface on the back side.

I'm a little surprised that there is a lizard in my house.  Among other things, Biscuit may be old and house bound, but she is a hunter, even if it's just to catch whatever it is that is moving under the blanket (my foot!).  Still, I'm a little sad that my light trap caught the lizard.  If the trap hadn't been there, maybe the little lizard could have feasted as our gecko in Dar es Salaam did.  Maybe if nature had been allowed to do its thing, the fruit flies would have eventually succumbed to the lizard's hunting prowess.  I have to say that it would have been miserable for me, so I'm not going back to nature on this issue.  

In fact, I bought a half gallon of the apple cider vinegar.  I'll be glad when all this heat is over.  In the meantime, I am prepared with fly swatters and apple cider vinegar.  Still, I might give the light trap a rest, and see how it goes.  

Religious Wars and Their Ethics

A nativity to celebrate (and remember)

I've been digging around in old journals again, looking for tidbits for the Bibliography of Ethical Culture.  I renewed my membership in the Center for Inquiry, appreciating, as I do, their support for separation of church and state in Texas.  I participate in the Hill Country Freethinkers Association, which is, I believe, an affiliate of CFI.  Good people, good conversations.  We have a variety of religious beliefs, which we express easily and comfortably, respecting our differences and the nuances of belief that can come with many years of life and whole lot of PhDs at the table (plus one JD for seasoning).

CFI's journal, Free Inquiry, has a handy archive.  Of course, I'm going to check it for articles by Ethical Culturists (as far as I can recognize them).  EC writers were evident in the early issues, but not so much later on, so this effort may not take a great deal of time.  Indeed, the tone of the journal, after those first few years, seems a little more stridently anti-religious with the occasional active "debate" between Christians and freethinkers (I've only examined issues through 1999, so this is just an assessment of these early years).  

One issue that caught my eye, because I am now thinking about time and how we relate to it, is the Fall, 1993 issue, which focused on the question:  Should secular humanists celebrate rites of passage?  The issue talked about naming ceremonies, confirmations, weddings, memorial services and Christmas.  I tend not to think of Christmas as a rite of passage, but there it was:  Tom Flynn writing about "The Trouble with Christmas," a substantially shortened version, I assume, of his book of the same title.  Judging this issue by its cover--and its table of contents--it rather feels like there is a bit of a religious war in these pages.  Not that that is the viewpoint of the Editor, Paul Kurtz.  In this same issue, his "Letter from Berlin" says, very clearly:

Organized humanists—relatively small in number—believe deeply in democracy, tolerance, and human rights.

I'll take him at his word.  I have yet to read his contribution to The Ethical Forum (another short-lived Ethical Culture serial), but, just checking its contents, he seemed to refer to religious humanism in a positive way.  (I will report when I get a chance to sit down and read it more fully--and add The Ethical Forum to the Bibliography.)

All of this is context for my reaction to "The Trouble with Christmas."  It is one thing to recognize the history of the celebration, as far as we can know it, and its origins in the pagan celebrations of the winter solstice.  It is not entirely surprising to sense the negative judgments of those who associate the event with current religious belief systems and see the hypocrisy of the capitalistic version(s) of the holiday.  What struck me about Flynn's argument was the determination that humanists--being enlightened about the roots of the holiday--should then ignore it because we are no longer subject to the whims of nature.  That is, we know that the earth circumnavigates the sun on a tilted axis in a not-quite-perfect circle, which gives us seasons that we are able to predict.  Knowing the science, we no longer need to celebrate the return of the sun, so we can, in effect, ignore the solstice.  After all, most of us are no longer farmers, and we (mostly) have electricity.  Flynn says: 

Men and women can view the phenomena of nature with understanding and respect, instead of with superstition and uncomprehending fear.

A valid conclusion, but not, in my thinking, a justification for rejecting the season.  Flynn's perspective is remarkably urban, remarkably technological, remarkably ethno-centric (ignoring the achievements of Native Americans in understanding solar cycles) and, unfortunately, pre-climate change.

Two things struck me as I was (lightly) exploring this issue of Free Inquiry:

1. I am still repelled by language that denigrates another's religious belief--or, more specifically, denigrates another human being for holding the beliefs they do.  If I am free to believe as I wish, then others should be equally free.  If I am not to be persecuted (or insulted) for my beliefs, nor should any other be.  These diatribes against people of various faiths are no different--and no better--than the preacher who thumps his bible and shouts tirades against the godless secular humanists.  It is an unnecessary religious war that is fed by denial of "democracy, tolerance, and human rights."  Focus on that, I say, not whether the baby Jesus was born in a manger and angels sang "Joy to the World."
2. The earth does indeed circle(ish) the sun on its titled axes in its elliptical orbit and (I believe) we'd damned well better remember that.  It's a big deal for the tiny human ants living on its surface, messing with natural systems and forces that we cannot control, but we surely have screwed up.  This doesn't mean that we must now seek new ways to worship or pray to those screwed-up systems for relief from the big heat (or the big wind or the big water), but our "understanding and respect" might well extend beyond our own personal comfort to consider the human systems that we have created and continue to permit to alter and--for the sake of our human survival--damage our planet, consider and begin working to halt the damage and, if possible, reverse it.

I disagree with Flynn's reasoning, and I disagree with his conclusion.  I do not participate in Christmas celebrations to any great extent for mostly personal reasons.  The Ethical Society of Austin has an annual Solstice Celebration where we share songs and stories and favorite readings.  Last year I read "The Hunting of the Snark, Fit the First" to those gathered.  This year, I think I'll read "Fit the Second."  The language and rhythm is worth hearing (to my mind) even more than the "nonsense" words, despite the fact that it has nothing to with the season.  It is, in any case, a moment to share with friends and enjoy each other.  

Privately, I have been known to light a candle to celebrate the returning of the light.  Even as far south as Texas is, those short days and long nights can be dreary.  If I happen to notice the date on my calendar and have enough mental bandwidth to connect it to the movement of the sun, I have lit that candle in solitude and gratitude, happy to think of longer days and mehr licht.  

Is that a primitive response to nature?  Is that an ignorant response to the solar cycle?  No, it is my human acknowledgement of my human connection to the environment in which I live and--with "Fit the Second"--will be my human acknowledgement of my human need to connect with other humans with peace and goodwill.  We don't have to buy a tree, decorate our house, or go into debt with excessive gift giving to maintain either connection, but, I believe, we need both.  In the first days of winter, its good to take a moment to appreciate both.

Every Sperm Is Sacred (Not)

World Population Day, July 11
Commemorating the day (in 1989) when the world's population
reached 5 billion

I had a good laugh recently about a serious subject.  My subject in this post is not sperm, but the joke is, although, I suppose the joke is not funny either.  Jessica Grose has written an excellent piece for the New York Times talking about male fertility, as in male sperm counts seem to be on the decline--worldwide.  Her point is that new and more persuasive research is validating the conclusion about sperm rates, noting that it is time for a shift in the viewpoint that tends to blame women for any issue related to fertility.  That is, just as men (IMO) need to step up and do their fair share of work around the house and family, they also need (in Grose's opinion, with which I concur) to accept that it takes two to tango and/or make a baby, so get a check up, for garden seed.  OK, she was more polite.  But the effects of plastic on the endocrine system--which makes sperm--which makes babies--is becoming ever clearer through the research that is being done to figure out what effects our extensive use of fossil fuels is having on our bodies.

One small paragraph in Grose's fairly long essay, just quietly and gently inserting itself before the discussion moves on, stated a point that was already fairly shouting in my mind by the time I got to it:

At the very least, men should be aware that half of all infertility cases are caused by male infertility. Not just because it may make them start embracing healthier lifestyles if they hope to have children some day, but also because if they are intimately aware of their own deficient sperm, they might be more motivated to push for the policy changes that would really help fix male infertility on a larger scale. [emphasis added]

Yea, verily.  Perhaps men, with their well-known fascination with their own junk and its potential uses, might pause their intense focus on the body part and look at the system that makes that body part so important.  No, not orgasm, but the purpose of that orgasm, which is not fun and games but survival of the species.  The fun and games part is just part of the incentive to produce the orgasm which is in turn meant to promote the survival of the species.  The sensation of orgasm, in evolutionary terms, is a by-product, not the ballgame (no pun intended).

I have been continuing my search for publications by Ethical Culture's thought leaders in various serials over the past few days.  One such serial is Free Inquiry, a publication of the Center for Inquiry.  (My work with that serial is just beginning, but already I can note that Ethical Culture's presence was much stronger in FI's earliest years than in later years.)  One item that sparked my attention, however, was its cover story for Spring 1999:  "The Population Bomb--The Fallout Continues," illustrated with a mushroom cloud.  The articles and opinion pieces inside range from "India's Population Time Bomb" (Paul Kurtz) to "Playing with People's Lives" (Craig Lasher) and reflect what we have heard for some time about the concerns with increasing population on a finite planet with finite resources.

These articles caught my attention because the opposite stories have been filling our news media recently, given some impetus by figures in the current administration, to reflect concern that, in fact, the birth rate is declining in many countries, causing concern (drama) about population decline.  That, in turn, has led to recent moves by the current administration to incentivize birth and push back against various forms of birth control.  I thought, seeing the FI issue, how ironic that we have seen such a turnaround in public discussions.  And yet, the same arguments against the concerns related to over-population and now for the concerns about population decline are still very much present, wolves in sheep's clothing.

• Women must have all possible babies (no birth control, no abortions, no choice).
• Men must make sure that women have all possible babies (men are still the majority in all US halls of government, with, perhaps, some local exceptions).
• Some people--meaning white people--are still more important than others (not all countries are seeing this reduction in fertility, but they are not "white countries").

Oddly enough, in re that latter bullet, those non-white countries have less robust economies.  Is there a correlation between those economies and the prevalence of plastic?  I couldn't say, since my experience in a couple of those economies is older than the FI issue that I was reading.  Certainly there were plastics in the supply chain, but the lifestyles were (in those days) seemed less reliant on plastic-packaged "convenience" items.  My perceptions and recollections are insufficient for any conclusions, but they are enough to raise the question.

And that question brings me back to the joke.  Grose ended her essay with the suggestion that, instead of our national anthem, we should start playing "Every Sperm is Sacred" at national sporting events.  I had to laugh when I watched the video.  But I am deadly serious--if the bros are so damned concerned that we are in a population decline, why don't they address the root cause for their own infertility?  Why don't they spend some time solving the problem of excess plastic in our environment and our bodies instead of looking for ways to blame women for both the cause and effect of the mess they have made? Not that I'm advocating for more sperm, mind you, but all of us would be a lot healthier if we weren't eating and breathing plastic.

System Upgrade

Not quite a self portrait, but you get the picture
Image by Canva

 As we move on from the Information Age to the Age of Artificial Intelligence (assuming that that is what the powers that be will call it), I find myself in the midst of a disturbing number of system upgrades.  For me, it started with Windows.  Mind you, it actually started with DOS.  I was very excited about the new user interface (UI) that came with Windows.  I can recall thinking, at one point, that we didn't actually need to upgrade from Windows 3.0.  I was quite happy, functioning quite well, getting my work done.  And then came a series of upgrades, some better, some not at all better, until we came to Windows 10.  After all of those system changes, I really don't understand why I am stuck on Windows 10.  Perhaps it is that Windows 10 has been a pretty good system; perhaps it is that I am just used to it now.  An important point--for me--is that I, in fact, have a lot of money invested in Windows 10 via the various pieces of electronic equipment I have that run on that OS.

Now Windows insists that I must upgrade to Windows 11.  It's free, of course, unless my equipment is not up to their standards.  Of course, my equipment is not, so I have to buy a new desktop computer, a new laptop computer, and on down the line.  I am a tad grumpy about all this, and not merely because of the cost.  

I have, over the years, been a happy supporter of all of this electronic improvement.  I am, after all, my father's daughter.  While the arrival of transistors eventually halted his exploration of the electronics of his youth and maturity (radio, tv, vacuum tubes of all sorts, with the added excitement of cameras and films), my father taught me curiosity, experimentation, and a general love of the tools that we can use to live and learn and explore the wonders of this world.  The catalytic converter halted my ability to tinker with the car, but I have kept up with the use--if not in any way, shape, or form the programming of operating systems--of various electronic devices.  I have been known to install a bit of RAM; I have pulled hard drives to save the data before getting rid of the rest of the computer.  This is say that I am not a complete blank when it comes to electronics.

Recently I received a notice that Samsung, or maybe Google, won't support the operating system of my current cellphone, that I had a short time in which to get a newer model with a more recent operating system.  This, too, made me grumpy.  Cell phones are (increasingly) expensive, and I paid full price for this one in 2017.  It took a while to overcome the grump to start looking for a new phone.  I did eventually find one on the lower end of current prices.  Yesterday I drove to a nearby town to get it (it was not available locally and I wasn't sure how to transfer my data from my old phone if I ordered the new one online).  I asked to have my data transferred to the new phone, little realizing what an incredible amount of time would be needed for that, but that's another story for another day.

The story for today is that I now realize why I have been so resistant to Windows 11.  The phone, a Samsung 16, has been setting itself up with various reboots and installation demands for almost 24 hours.  In the process, I have seen the degree to which my cell phone provider and other corporations that have found a place on my phone are intrusive.  That is, how much these corporations now know about my location, my finances, my relationships, my interests.  In some cases, I have had the opportunity to reject an installation or setting that would invite in a bombardment of advertising or additional "sharing" of my activities and interests.  In other cases, it seems, I either had no choice or didn't notice the opportunity.  While I think I will enjoy this new phone, I can see that I have a lot to learn about its operation and its intrusion.  I suspect I will also be spending a lot of time trying to assess the level of intrusion and push back wherever I can.

As for Windows 11, the intrusion continues.  I have purchased a "new" (refurbished) mini computer, but I have yet to set it up.  I also purchased a "new" (refurbished) laptop, and I have been using that for several months.  It is more powerful than the older one, so I felt less grumpy about that particular upgrade.  However, the whole period has been a constant battle with Windows, fighting to keep my work, my data, on my "device" and not in their online storage.  I don't want to store my data on OneDrive, thank you very much.  Nonetheless, Windows continues to nag me to do just that, and sometimes, when I'm not paying very close attention, Windows will just "helpfully" save my data to OneDrive anyway.  The laptop is mostly used when I travel, so my struggle against OneDrive is just part of that experience.  At home, I have not had that extra tension as long as I delayed setting up the mini.  Still, I suppose the time has come to get that process started while I am on high alert to the risks and possibilities of intrusion.

Why am I babbling about this?  This morning, as my new cellphone was (endlessly) setting itself up, I saw that I had missed a call from an unknown number.  I touched the number on my screen, and the new phone gave me a complete call history.  This was a number that had not been entered in my Contacts, but I have had interaction with the caller several times before.  My bad that I hadn't entered them in the Contacts list.  Then I googled the number.  It was a colleague at NYSEC, and the search result pulled up his name, his wife's name, his home address, his children's names, his previous addresses--and, for a fee (which I did not pay) his legal and business connections.  This was too much information based on a phone number.  I then search my own name and found some of my past addresses and other information.  Not, thankfully, my whole life, but still an unsafe amount of information available with just a name search.  

As long as we lack either government regulation of these information scrapers and as long as the corporations that can find some way to make money from our information do not consider the ethics of their scraping of our information, especially our personal information, we will have to find our own ways to protect our privacy and safety.  In my case, I rather wish that my own mental operating system could have a quick up grade to give me more understanding of how these newer systems operate.  A system upgrade for Boomers, I guess.  Failing that, I have to do what I can to root out these intrusions and stop the steal.  

Addendum:  I have now entered the caller's name in my contact list.  I have set the old phone aside for use as a bedside alarm clock and bedtime reading device.  My new mini is refurbished, so I consider that an environmentally sound way to upgrade.  The old PC (also a refurb) may still be needed around my home as another workstation; but I will just not be able to leave it connected to the internet.  If I don't end up with another workstation, then I will take it in for recycling.