Can our democracy survive the lowest common denominator?

 Are we reaching a milestone or a threshold? It's between the politics, the pandemic, and the scammers. I see all three of these things converging as a growing threat to our democracy. That, and what I see as the cognitive limits of a large part of the electorate. The gullible who believe nearly everything. So long as it comports with their ideology. 

We have proven to be intelligent enough to create the technologies we all use. We have figured out that when a star collapses into a black hole, it creates a gravity wave that travels throughout the universe. On top of that, we have built devices that can measure these waves down to the resolution of the diameter of a proton.

And yet, we have a population of people in our country who gather by the thousands in Dallas Texas awaiting the arrival of a politician who has been dead for decades. So that he can reinstate Trump and hold mass executions of the lizard people in our government who eat babies. The same people who believe if they cover themselves with or eat magic dirt, they can purge their bodies of the harmful effects of a vaccine and cure themselves of the Covid virus. After being pressured to receive the very vaccine that would help not only protect those people but the rest of society with whom they interact.

These are the people who are choosing our political leaders and making the decisions that will affect not only this generation, but generations to come. It is that part of our population who would rather believe in what they want, instead of the actual reality in which they are living. 

I see this happening and I feel a growing doubt in my mind as to the long-term viability of our species. As an individual, I can only influence a limited number of people. I can only encourage a limited number of individuals to challenge what they choose to believe in the face of actual reality. 

So, I do what I can to escape the nonsense I see closing in around me. Sometimes I just get on my bike and ride. Sometimes I lose myself in photography of the macro world or more globally the world as I see things. 

Here are a few of those images. In no particular order. Because sometimes that is how life happens. Not in the way we thought we had planned. Merely in the way life comes to us. 

Riding in the local hills

This morning I was going thru some old notes I made to myself after a longish bike ride in the local hills. Here's a note that sort of stood out for me.

Whenever I am doing a climb up a long grade, I notice many things that might not be picked up by someone driving a car. You see, it's like this. There are a significant number of drivers and motorcycle riders who like to use these curvy roads for thrills. They use the road as though it was their own private Laguna Seca.
It is said that good judgment comes from wisdom and wisdom comes from bad judgment. I see clear and striking evidence of this in my rides in the hills. There will be patches of road with dark skid marks running oblique to the direction of the road. The skid marks often lead up to a section of a brand new guardrail with brand new posts. More typically, however, the skid marks end at a misshapen guardrail with several bent and distorted posts.
Like tea leaves at the bottom of a cup, the road and the dirt near the guardrails will be stained with oil and littered with pieces of chrome, glass, and plastic. The story here can be easily read by even the most illiterate.
I try to quicken my pace away from this transient archive of bad judgment when I hear from somewhere behind me the increasing pitch of an accelerating engine from the approaching vehicle. History has a way of repeating itself.

The Hike v2.0

Late in 2019, we went out to the coast and did The Hike again. That's why I've named this post The Hike v2.0. Over the length of the day, it never actually rained. It did, however, mist a lot and that kept dripping off the branches of the tall trees. Here is a sample of the day.

I'll do you if you do me. Right?

The Hike

Just a few images from doing The Hike this Spring.

Where is the ME in Me?

Where is the ME in Me?
I believe everyone has a kind of duality to their self-identity.

I suspect that this is the result of, at a very primal level, the anatomical bilateral symmetry of our brain. As with most of our anatomy, we are bilaterally symmetrical. There is a left side and a right side. The brain has two sides or hemispheres which communicate back and forth across a structure called the corpus callosum.

Globally, we refer to the brain and all the thoughts there within as the mind. Sort of like a computer's operating system. The brain is the organic structure and the mind is the thoughts or pattern of electro-chemical impulses that are contained within. Different parts of our brains are prioritized to handle specific tasks for our minds. Left or right-handedness, vision, speech, music, sense of balance, proprioception, heart rate, breathing …

Many of these tasks are handled by different parts of our brain and yet the coordination of all this takes place in that one place we call our mind. On a conscious level, we can voluntarily control parts of our body like holding our breath for a period of time. But eventually, we have to "let go" and hand control back over to those autonomic parts of our brain. We do not need to consciously think about each and every breath we take or how to maintain our balance with each and every step we take. There are parts of our "mind" where we have a conscious connection and there are parts where we can only submit requests. Like concentrating on a particular thought or idea. So then, who is the ME who is in control of ME? Who is making the request and who is accepting the request? And, above that, this is only asking about the control of our body. Not our thoughts.

I now believe there are times when different parts of our minds, take on different identities. Almost as if there are separate identities existing within our brain. If I decide to write a story, I choose the theme, the characters, and the setting. I begin the story, and I decide on the plot and how the story will end. I have complete control and there is no way I can be surprised about how the story ends because I am writing the story as I create it. I can go back and make changes, but it is still the story I am creating.  So, just as in writing a story, when I dream, the entire dream is created and constructed by my imagination. There is no going back and changing parts because the dream is "experienced" as a play one-time-only story. It is a story, written in real time and experienced by me. The same me who is telling the story. So if I am creating that story, the dream, then how can I possibly be surprised by anything that happens in the dream? I am the writer, producer, director, and audience all in one. And yet, I can still be surprised by events in my dreams. So then, who is the Me in Me? Who is creating the dream and who is experiencing the dream? And which one remembers the dream?

Or how about this? I decide that today is the day I need to go shopping for groceries. I make a mental note of what I need. I get in the car. I go shopping. Come home. Start putting stuff away when suddenly I discover I have forgotten to pick up something. Then I'll say out loud, "Damn it! I forgot to get milk!" But, if I'm alone in the house, WHO am I talking to? Why do I need to verbalize anything? I could just as easily, and quietly, think to myself I should have made a written list and brought that with me to the store. But instead, I needed to say it out loud to myself, and often with conviction. Why? Is there another, separate part of my identity (like a roommate) with \whom I share my mind?

So then, my question is this. Where is or who is the ME, I identify as me? The answer to questions such as this is, perhaps, unknowable.