tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30337562011-04-21T13:51:27.837-07:00Klickitat MemeryFrom city to farm, Miata to combine, design to hay.John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comBlogger411100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-63517962001-10-15T07:18:00.000-07:002001-10-15T09:39:32.000-07:00In my recent re-kindling of interest in astrology based on the prognostigations posted below, I subscribed to an email group from geocosmic.org. I thought it would be instructive to post some handwringing of astrologers over issues raised by prognostication of historical events: I. Astrology is about timing, about attitudes and feelings, and it's acted out with concrete physical events and John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-62404212001-10-10T10:36:00.000-07:002001-10-10T13:52:52.000-07:00Our dogs, Chocolate and Freckles, must have been proud. They planted themselves in front of our picture window knawing at the remains of some animal. I went out to investigate, and Chocolate took the time to greet me with tail wagging, leaving what looked to be the fur coat of a deer behind for the moment. Freckles, the more independent one, kept chewing on a smaller but more impressive prize, a John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-59086902001-09-25T11:43:00.000-07:002001-09-25T11:56:09.000-07:00When I went for one of my multi-daily feedings at the Metafilter trough yesterday, there was a post linking to a 1993 article by Huntington on the "clash of civilizations". One of the comments linked to a series of articles from their archives on issues relevant to what happened on 9-11. Funny, but I received an invitation to subscribe to Foreign Affairs yesterday too. Maybe the marketing John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-57275882001-09-16T18:02:00.000-07:002001-09-16T18:29:00.000-07:00There have been more than enough words already about what happened on 9-11, and we can expect even more. I really don't feel like plugging the complex of emotions, thoughts, and apprehensions I am experiencing into any pre-existing framework like memetics, journal writing, and the like. Maybe later. For now, I'd just like to suggest a few links that might help achieve some understanding about John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-55763772001-09-09T11:26:00.000-07:002001-09-16T18:34:03.000-07:00I discovered, or re-discovered the Principia Cybernetica Web. I vaguely remember being here before, but I suppose I wasn't ready for it. Maybe I'm not even ready now. As a patriotic American everyman, I distrust philosophy: it's just so many words. I prefer PRAGMATIC can-do suggestions over arcane, inaccessible theorizing. Ah, but... It's at least worthy as a cheap thrill. Browsing through the John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-55753892001-09-09T10:11:00.000-07:002001-09-09T10:33:59.000-07:00Richard Dawkins, the inadvertent founder of Memetics, gave an acceptance speech recently for an honor he was awarded by the Foundation for the Future in Seattle, written up in Reason magazine by Ronald Bailey. The author suggests that not only was Dawkins' talk interesting for the insight he brought to his subject matter, the evolutionary capacity of humans to plan for the future, but also was John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-54386502001-09-02T08:50:00.000-07:002001-09-02T08:50:02.346-07:00Robert Clark wrote a wonderful book on the Columbia, called River of the West: A Chronicle of the Columbia, which is an engaging semi-fictionalized account of the river, beginning from the first salmon to the more recent struggles over fishing rights of the Yakima Indians. In between, it covers the early exploration of the Spanish by boat, the explorations of Lewis and Clark, and the colonizationJohn Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-54189452001-08-31T22:14:00.000-07:002001-09-02T08:37:23.000-07:00Partly out of curiosity and a desire to explore Portland, and partly just to get off the farm after a draining week, we drove to Portland to see some art. Yesterday was "Last Thursday," the less established, "alternative" version of "First Thursday," the typical gallery walk. It takes place on Alberta Street, in a traditionally African- and Mexican-American neighborhood, that is now becoming John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-53086112001-08-26T16:18:00.000-07:002001-08-26T16:18:23.143-07:00Today we made what I think is the best frittata of my life. It was a collaboration, and a result of an attempt to clean out the icebox. I think that many people don’t realize that the delicious, precisely defined and described dishes that are served at fancy four-star restaurants come out of the same attempt: taking stock of the "primordial soup" (a large and varied pantry composed of numerous John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-53053862001-08-26T11:36:00.000-07:002001-08-26T11:36:14.053-07:00The High Prarie Neighborhood Association held its monthly meeting this week over at the Taylor's place. I thought it would be interesting to go, particularly since we don't know for sure whether we will be settling here for good or will be only in the Lyle area occassionally. I accompanied Sally and James. It was held in a former church on the Taylor's place, which at one point had been turned John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-52454122001-08-22T20:54:00.000-07:002001-08-22T20:54:55.216-07:00Today, we left the farm for an errand in White Salmon, the next town over, about a 40-minute drive. On the way back up the hill to high prarie, we slowed down so that a gaggle of turkeys – about seven or eight in all – could cross the street, in an orderly single file. "Turkey" is a hard word to get your head around for an American like me when you see them like that. I saw them "in the wild," John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-52054542001-08-20T21:44:00.000-07:002001-08-20T21:44:52.966-07:00I’m back on the farm after a six day trip to the upper Northwest, driving to Bellingham to visit friends, and visiting Vancouver and Seattle. Both cities have changed remarkably since my last visit in the mid-Eighties, Seattle from the Microsoft behemoth, Vancouver with the massive Asian immigration. Vancouver is a mirage, a true standing meme. It’s a meme as monument, a constant fluctuation John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-50484892001-08-12T11:15:00.000-07:002001-08-12T11:15:04.916-07:00Friday began "Neon Nights" in The Dalles, the closest decent-sized town at 30 miles and at least a few thousand people. It's one of the oldest towns settled out here, a stop for Lewis and Clark, and with a legend of a watering hole that onced housed several thousand bottles of whiskey a week. The architecture is a combination of old West brick along with 50s to 70s store signage along the strip. John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-49574992001-08-07T08:23:00.000-07:002001-08-07T08:23:02.690-07:00There was an interesting post in a "Dynamist" discussion group yesterday about an article on environmentalism in this week's The Economist. It is written by a Danish statistician who wanted to refute the anti-environmentalist views of a well-known economist, but who in the end found the data supporting him. The article begins describing the shared linguistic roots of "eco-nomist" and "eco-logist"John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-49384902001-08-06T09:47:00.000-07:002001-08-06T09:47:13.460-07:00A friend writes: "Checked back on [your blog] last week.....what happened after July 17? It's like you're reading a good book and then it suddenly ends and one feels a bit at loss. Is there more to come?" Ah, I have a fan. I've been wondering that myself. Once you put down a story, often it is hard to pick it up. Even if, as with the Klickitat Memery, it is your own story you are creating, e.g., John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-45850772001-07-17T12:28:00.000-07:002001-07-17T12:28:30.830-07:00Linked back to peterme's discussion thread on branding again this morning, not intentionally, and I’m still a bit perplexed and bemused. The UX antibodies have sensed a foreign virus, and it is fascinating to watch the defenses, the accommodation and the battles in the interaction with: “branding”. Am I any different? Probably not, and I have found a new suit of armor to wear – Memetic Theory – John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-44970512001-07-11T22:18:00.000-07:002001-07-11T22:18:58.186-07:00Back at the ocean, just after sunset, door open to hear to waves. A roar, really, in a state between steady and continual flux. "White noise," they call it. John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-44682512001-07-10T07:53:00.000-07:002001-07-10T07:53:36.430-07:00This morning at 6:30 perusing a discussion thread on branding – two, actually – that Christina forwarded to me. I'm taken aback by the sheer fecundity of the discussions: plethora of participants, of ideas, pronouncements, posturings, insights, gobbledygook, humor, analysis and the rest. It has a peculiar effect on me, up here on the farm. What was my bread-and-butter for a year until May takes John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-44544522001-07-09T12:22:00.000-07:002001-07-09T12:22:14.770-07:00This morning, waiting for Amery to get some pool water sampled, in the car with the top down and the heat beating, I was listening to the oldies station. Elvis was crooning "Are You Lonesome Tonight." Afterwards, I switched to a station playing a beautiful lute concerto, sun warm on my newly shaven head. A freight train 50 feet behind me approaches and speeds past, first with the screech and the John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-44419252001-07-08T18:11:00.000-07:002001-07-08T18:11:42.860-07:00Time out from farm-pondering to get back to meme theory for a bit. Our brains are unnaturally large relative to our body mass compared with other animals, a process which started once we learned how to imitate each other, i.e., once meme development began. One way to understand this is through the example of the peacock’s tail. Peahens prefer peacocks with large tails, although it requires a John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-43934972001-07-05T10:52:00.000-07:002001-07-05T10:52:32.453-07:00Last July 4th, Amery and I were comfortably situated in our modern “live/work” loft in San Francisco, noting that the fireworks were happening but uninterested in going to the roof to watch. This holiday, in rural Washington, was different. Martha, a retired geologist down the road, was hosting her annual gathering, where many or most of the locals of the Lyle and High Prarie area congregate on John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-43714612001-07-03T22:17:00.000-07:002001-07-03T22:17:54.990-07:00Last night, in bed under a full moon, the coyotes howl, an eerie sound. To follow, the dogs barking meaningful barks and wails. Stirring in the house, Amery leaves the bed and joins her sister, yelping "Chocolate!" "Freckles!", protecting the dogs protecting us. I've never seen so many deer in my life. This evening, journeying through the hay fields with the family in the Jeep, every direction John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-43363612001-07-01T21:20:00.000-07:002001-07-01T21:20:15.953-07:00Sunday, July 1 Yesterday, Tati lost her balloon, and cried. She had kept it for a few hours, and at a rest stop she opened the window and out it flew. She was devastated; it was surprising to see such an effect upon her. Why a balloon? (I don’t remember, but I imagine I cried at a lost balloon at least once.) She finally lost her front tooth today, and will wait upon the tooth fairy tonight. John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-42541552001-06-26T12:57:00.000-07:002001-06-26T12:57:37.800-07:00We are at the coast now, overlooking from a height a large swath of the Pacific. From this view, the Earth begins to seem a planet, the ocean an impenetrable skin. There is desire to comprehend; some wall separates what I know of the world from what I can’t. The longing I imagine to be a death wish, in the finality of nature’s refusal to be utterly and completely understandable. I posit the John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-42194122001-06-24T11:01:00.000-07:002001-06-24T11:01:29.150-07:00Sally and Tati approached us from her car, parked in the field near the equipment graveyard. Said she scared herself, hearing some shaking she thought was a rattlesnake. Ended up being stuff she was carrying in her MoMA bag, which she picked up in New York when I was working there. The bag originally held some shiny design object or art book, I imagine.John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-42193092001-06-24T10:50:00.000-07:002001-06-24T10:50:07.103-07:00Yesterday began with stories and ended with stories. In the morning, we went to drop off Tati at her other grandmothers', Grammy Donna, and ended up talking with her for some time. She's an old family friend and hasn't seen Amery in years. She was in the midst of cleaning house to host the local historical society today: a researcher from a Portland-area university has been looking up obituaries John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-42112202001-06-23T16:24:00.000-07:002001-06-23T16:24:18.203-07:00Been brooding today. Trying to figure out what's next. Many, many possibilities, but nature offers resistance and time is an aperture allowing only so much to pass through. Comparisons with yesterday's hen are apt, but I don't plan on coming to the same end (she had to be put down yesterday, with her egg still half delivered).John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-41964732001-06-22T13:32:00.000-07:002001-06-22T13:32:49.696-07:00Just returned from the chicken barn. Sally and Tati have five chickens, which produce green or pink eggs that we eat or they sometimes sell for a buck or two per dozen. One hen has been trying to push an egg out of her for three days; I went to the barn to help Sally try to help the hen. We thought of resting her in warm soapy water with a little hydrogen peroxide – that at least cleaned up the John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-41723792001-06-21T06:14:00.000-07:002001-06-21T06:14:09.220-07:00There is a texture to the farm that is distinct from what I've known. Like now, as I look out the picture window facing Mt. Hood, the dog Chocolate, who has been sleeping on the mound of dirt in front of me, has decided to stretch. Nothing very unusual in that, except that she is within this extraordinary framed landscape in front of me; that she and her sister Freckles have always been kept John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-41588252001-06-20T11:06:00.000-07:002001-06-20T11:06:20.233-07:00BW Online | June 25, 2001 | Table: The Complete List of 2001 WinnersJohn Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-41408812001-06-19T08:42:00.000-07:002001-06-19T08:42:41.426-07:00When I wake up in the morning, sometimes at dawn, through the picture window facing our bed I can see a miraculous view: the high prarie, wheat field in foreground, with rolling hills gently sloping down to to the Columbia River Gorge. Beyond the Gorge sits an impressive, solitary, and snow-covered Mount Hood rising beyond. At first dawn, the view is a soft blur with the mountain intimately John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-39216412001-06-04T10:10:00.000-07:002001-06-04T10:10:00.810-07:00Here's a site I discovered called Brand Genetics that wraps its branding practice within the mystique of the science of memetics.John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-39139472001-06-03T18:35:00.000-07:002001-06-03T18:35:50.223-07:00The "sabbatical" has begun. All our things are in storage, except the boxes we sent to the farm. We are in LA now, flying to Aspen for the design conference next week, and then begin our drive up the coast from LA to the Washington border to arrive mid-June. The first thing we did after closing up in San Francisco is to spend a day in Napa, taking a friend for her birthday to the Di Rosa John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-38305742001-05-28T09:18:00.000-07:002001-05-28T09:18:19.330-07:00I realize I've been playing pretty fast and loose with these so-called "memes." It's a nice catch-all for anything that is in any way remotely meaningful, right? I'm sure Richard Dawkins, Susan Blackmore et.al. would be cringing. And yet, maybe there is something there, and something moreover that could be illuminating for me personally and for others (like you). Naomi S. suggested the John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-38037832001-05-26T08:51:00.000-07:002001-05-26T08:51:25.290-07:00There was a problem with the server for the last several days; hence, no memes from me. Eventually, I'll redesign this page and host it elsewhere, but for now it's free on BLOGGER. Today's the beginning of packing, stage 2. We are on the road as of May 30.John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-38003502001-05-25T23:35:00.000-07:002001-05-25T23:35:18.013-07:00Another sister calls to wish me a happy birthday. I speak to both of my nephews: Sam, the one whose birthday is October 4, then his younger brother Jason. Jason tells me his cat Lucy was just put to sleep, on my birthday. This is beginning to be a story of cats.John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-37951412001-05-25T14:14:00.000-07:002001-05-25T14:14:43.023-07:00My sister just emailed me to wish me a happy birthday, after my last post. She also mentioned her cats were born today too. So that's two cats, a dog, and me. And Miles.John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-37919952001-05-25T09:51:00.000-07:002001-05-25T09:51:31.406-07:00Reflections of the Black Galaxy... Today's my birthday: 1 year to the day we arrived back in San Francisco "for good." Twenty-three years to the day (now 24) that I first arrived in Berkeley in my grandmother's old baby blue '66 Ford Galaxy, $600 in pocket. Got a place on Dwight and Telegraph (didn't know about first and last month rent requirements). By October I had moved to San Francisco, John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-37614012001-05-23T07:51:00.000-07:002001-05-23T07:51:54.073-07:00Last night our first going-away party. Amery sad at leaving our many friends for the summer. We'll be back.John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-37451992001-05-22T08:10:00.000-07:002001-05-22T08:10:51.033-07:00Well, now that I started my blog I guess I have to feed it. Today's our 2nd anniversary, Amery and myself. We are having a gathering at the Bay View Boat Club, but not for that. Originally it was meant to be a "solar midpoint" birthday, celebrating both mine and our friend Rosa's birthday, on the day halfway between them. Also, it is a chance to get together with friends old and new before John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033756.post-37139012001-05-20T07:52:00.000-07:002001-05-20T07:52:22.240-07:00After a few weeks of perusing blogs, decide today to begin publishing one, in preparation for our move to the farm. Initial purpose: keep in touch with our friends, document the change in our life from San Francisco urban to migrants at Amery Farm and Construction. Why "The Memery"? Well, first because I like memes. For those who don't know, and frankly, I suspect not many outside of certain John Calvellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15052483673583280099noreply@blogger.com