The Blog of Jason “Jayce” Olshefsky

So I was leaving The Flower City Habitat for Humanity ReStore (755 Culver Rd.) after doing my Saturday afternoon grazing when a police officer (I think his name was W-something) came up to ask some questions. I had not witnessed a crime nor was I involved in one. But I was acting suspicious. See, I was riding a bicycle with a trailer to do my Saturday shopping. Officer W. said there have been problems with people on bicycles with toolboxes on the back and totes stealing copper pipe from houses.

Although I was highly irritated by being singled out, I only revealed that fact by asking if he had also stopped cars and asked if the occupants were involved with such crimes because cars can carry a lot more material. He was respectful and ginger about the whole 4th Amendment and all, and only asked questions. Obviously, though, if I had not answered openly, I am certain I would have been further suspected, detained, and harassed.

I mean, who gets stopped like this? Have you, dear reader, ever been stopped and questioned for no good reason? In my case, it was an unpleasant experience all around. I can see no “silver lining” in it at all: I was singled out for being different. And to add insult to injury, “different” in a way that promoted reuse of materials (the trailer is homemade and the bike was rebuilt from junk), healthy living, and a low impact on the world’s resources.

Of course, I forgot to ask the perfect question: “how many people have been convicted of stealing copper pipe on bicycles?” I did comment that I thought this kind of theft in general is a relatively rare occurrence and he replied that “it happens more than you think” — a statement that seemed lacking in factual backing.

I guess I could find a lawyer to search cases and see just how prevalent the problem is, but as a start, I searched “copper pipe” theft on Google and came up with some 15,000 hits. A couple other attempts, like a search for “stole copper pipe” bicycle came up dry, finding only theft of copper pipe and bicycles, not with them. Likewise, searching “stole copper pipe” on Google’s news search reveals only 55 hits — for the 29 year period from 1980 to 2009. By my guess, this is less of a problem than Officer W. thinks.

So I think back on the times when I’ve had non-trivial interactions with the police (i.e. more than just saying hello), none are clearly positive. Twice I’ve been through vehicle sticker checkpoints (and waved through), once through a breathalyzer checkpoint (blew far less than DUAI), and once when someone backed into my car (the cop failed to take an accurate report, omitting eye-witness evidence). And a few years ago I was terribly depressed and out for a walk and I was stopped by a cop because — and I swear this was not me — I matched the description of someone spotted trying to jump off a bridge in the area … that one I chalk up as just really really weird.

My conclusion is to have far fewer police. Sadly, we live in Mayor Former Police Chief’s land and his solution to any problem is “more cops”. I also realize that I’m either doing something very right or very wrong by daring to take visible action to help treat the planet better. It’s just another notch in my being ejected from society — from a lay-off to being rejected for a mortgage refinance (before the *ahem* real crooks [hint: driving Lexus cars, not bikes with trailers] ruined everything), some other similar bumps along the way, and now this.

I might as well get used to it because there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I left the show a little early to get to the Dryden Theater at George Eastman House (900 East Ave.) for a screening of The Yes Men Fix the World. I had been aware of some of the … umm … pranks? stunts? performance-art pieces? … created by The Yes Men for some time. I had recorded a segment on Democracy Now! back when I had satellite where they had convinced BBC News that they represented Dow Chemical and wanted to help fix the ongoing disaster created by their then-recently-purchased subsidiary, Union Carbide in Bhopal, India in 1984. The movie goes behind the scenes of how they got on the air and announced that in honor of the 20th anniversary of the disaster, Dow was committing billions of dollars (US$12 billion, if I remember correctly [and indeed, upon reviewing my copy of the interview on Democracy Now!, it was]) to help the people and clean up the site. By the end of the day, the hoax was revealed, and the largest complaint was not that Dow didn’t step forward and do what was right and just (i.e. commit resources and fix things) but that the hoax cost Dow shareholders US$2 billion.

And that’s essentially what The Yes Men are continually asking: why can’t we make a world where corporations do the right thing? Their method of asking that question is to enter situations where they present themselves as members of corporations and announce that they are going to do the right thing.

I spent most of the movie saddened that these pranks never seem to have any effect: corporations continue to do the wrong thing, claiming that the increased profits are worth more than any real benefit.

But then I realized that no one person (or even large a group) can instantly make change. Rather, it is through the constant pressure of good that makes the world better. So when I left, I got on my tall bike (which, believe it or not, I made just over 5 years ago) and realized that we all need to make the world a better place. Even little things matter because all there is is little things.

I know I’ve mentioned TED (Technology, Entertainment, Design): Ideas Worth Spreading quite a few times already, so when I heard there would be an independently-originated series here in Rochester, I couldn’t help but go. They called it TEDx Rochester and held it at Geva (75 Woodbury Blvd.) My hopes were high, but I fully understood that not every lecturer would produce an astoundingly favorite lecture.

After a rocky start with the A/V system, Adam Frank got things started. He spoke about the artificiality of the conflict of science and religion. Basically his argument was that science enhances religion because it lets us see more of the world, and if you’re a believer in a creator, seeing more of what was created is a good thing.

Larry Moss was next, speaking about his “Airigami”: creating art with balloons. At first blush, the whole thing seems as thin as a metaphor using balloons would be if written here. But because the medium he uses is so accessible, he’s able to create sculptures with people who don’t even share a common language — and he has. Many times. On the one hand, it’s astounding and on another, obvious. Definitely one to think about (and hopefully, a lecture that will be prominent on TED’s own website).

I was also pleased by a performance by GEOMANTICS Dance Theatre who, like PUSH Physical Theatre, used an amalgam of the varied forms of physical performance to express ideas.

A nano-scale chemist and physicist Todd D. Krauss provided insight into some of his work (as several other lecturers did). Although I didn’t find that his talk met my lofty expectation of an “idea worth spreading”, he did bring up an interesting bit of new technology: cadmium-selenium nanoparticles. The fascinating thing about them is that they fluoresce different colors of light based on their size. As such, one can create whatever colors they want using the same material.

What he did not touch on that I wish he had was the ramifications of nanoparticles and organic life: specifically, isn’t “little particles stuck through cell walls” one of those triggers for cancer? And while he dispelled the myth that artificially-intelligent nanobots will kill us, I think he did a disservice by neglecting to even approach the topic of nanoparticles doing damage in much more banal ways.

Finishing up the night was Geva Comedy Improv who, sadly, were not able to finish their performance in the time allotted.

Overall it was definitely worth it to take time off to see it. But I hope that in the future, things are a bit more refined.

I thought 15 minutes was sufficiently early to arrive, but by the time I got to the The Caroline Werner Gannett Project, Ingle Auditorium at RIT (One Lomb Memorial Dr., campus map) was completely full and I had to watch a video-feed with another 60-or-so people in the 1829 Room next door. Designer Stefan Sagmeister was the speaker and he did indeed discuss Design and Happiness. You can get an idea of what the discussion was like through his similar TED lecture from a few years ago: Stefan Sagmeister shares happy design.

As I had expected, the lecture gave me some inspiration. I knew Sagmeister would comment on the tenuous balance of being creative — after all, he closes his design studio for a year in every five years to do non-work-related endeavors.

His observations on happiness reminded me of that which I often forget: that much of happiness is a temporary feeling. He divided it up into three layers: short-lived joy, mid-ranged satisfaction from accomplishment, and long-term fulfillment from pride in one’s life. I forget that happiness at one layer is not experienced the same as at other layers: although my life philosophy has generally kept me fulfilled, that does not make me feel joyful in and of itself.

His lecture also reminded me that good design matters. It’s good to have a world where we can feel pleasure, and we can feel pleasure from interacting with something well-designed. And by that, I mean everything. Like I think the Frederick Douglass — Susan B. Anthony Memorial Bridge (formerly the Troup-Howell Bridge) is a good design: it carries vehicles across the river just as effectively as a bridge that looks awful, but it has a certain elegance to its design that makes people feel good. On the other hand, The Monroe Community Hospital (435 E. Henrietta Rd.) is apparently having a chain-link fence erected around it: an ugly barrier that says, “we have problems with the likes of you entering our property” and makes people feel bad. And to think that everything in the world can effect a mood like that: wow.

I think I’m starting to see the boundaries of the next social revolution. Let me lay out a little context of recent references that I believe are related.

First, I talked last year about the “monkeysphere” idea.  The basic idea is that our primate brains can only accept about 150 people who we consider part of our clan, tribe, or village, and beyond that, all the other people are equivalent to “things” in the world.

Next is related to things I’ve seen in discussions about Burning Man and the idea of “community”.  To me, the notion of “community” is like a lot of words: they are there to provide a spectrum upon which to measure.  So when one says, “the community”, that is a reference to a specific group of people with traits that tie them together.  The thing that is important is that being “in the community” means you have the traits of the community — it does not mean that you must adapt your behavior because of your physical location.  In other words, actions cause description; description does not cause action.

Related to that, I recently found a new term: POSIWID.  According to Wikipedia at least, Stafford Beer coined the term as an acronym for “[the] purpose of [a] system is what it does”.  The underlying principle is that the intended function of a system is irrelevant: its purpose (or function) is solely defined by what it does.  If, for instance, you set out to create a community of people who share art and resources, you might end up with a big party in the desert: the purpose of that system is a big party in the desert, no matter what your intentions were.

I have observed (especially in the last 10 years) that people I encounter are much more polarized by political party or political views than ever before.  It is probably most attributable to whom I hang out with, but I also believe there is a trend.  What I mean, specifically, is that I was finding prejudice in myself concerning politics: that I would judge someone favorably or unfavorably solely based on their political party affiliation.  I thought this was interesting to observe, and generally not good.

I also see the strong opinions of people concerning socialized health care. Although there many facets to it, the one I find most interesting is the debate on whether an arbitrary stranger should be cared for.  I’m neglecting any specifics because you can create straw men to support either side (i.e. abusers of a taxpayer-funded system versus a hard worker who circumstantially loses access to care).  The question is: will you help someone you don’t know anything about?

So finally, what’s this next revolution?: it’s how we treat strangers.

I see people lining up along a spectrum.  On one side are people who are only willing to help those people they know personally (i.e. who are within their “monkeysphere”) at the expense of the well-being of people they don’t.  On the other are people who willing to support everyone equally, even if that means they may not have resources to help people they know personally.

I think it is more noble to lean toward helping everyone, and a testament to the superiority of humankind.  However, I also know that such civility is frail: a small percentage of people working to their own advantage can poison the whole system.  All societies have blind-spots and points of leverage for the advantage-seeker, but civility is maintained by the unspoken agreement among people that they not take advantage at those points.  And in America, there are socially-acceptable points to find advantage: that permission is specifically what allows capitalism to work.

Anyway, I find myself playing both sides of the fence for the time-being.  I have a network of friends who I help freely (with my time, skills, money, and resources) and who will do likewise for me.  I also strive for a better solution that is more inclusive because I feel better when my behavior also helps other people.

So now it’s July 1, 2009 — just short of 233 years since the United States of America declared its independence from England. And, you know, I don’t believe in it anymore.

I was raised with the notion that America was a place where the smart and the hard-working were rewarded. Taught that we control our government, not the other way around. [In Soviet Russia, government controls you!] That anyone can step forward and change the country for the better.

But what I’ve found is that none of that is true.

There was a confluence of several things that got me here.

The “Cash for Clunkers” law is the poster child for everything that’s wrong with the legislature today. The goal set before them was to set America on a path to reduce pollution and consume less oil. What they did was to create a law that caused more consumption: building a new car consumes more energy and creates more pollution than keeping an old one on the road. And all because the actual problem won’t fit in a sound-byte. Plus, the law reinforces the new American model of mass consumerism.

Then there was a discussion I had about class reunions. It’s rare that you get a truly random sample of America, but people who came from the place you did is a pretty good random sample. I mean, just because our parents chose to live in the same place doesn’t mean we’re anything alike. Anyway, when I think about my reunion, I realize that — unlike my self-selected group of friends — that in fact, only about 5% of people even remotely believe in the same ideals as I do. Most are thrilled that America is at war all the time and that we do things bigger than other countries.

Finally, there’s the curious case that American’s, by-and-large, don’t hold mass protests, and certainly don’t get violent (police excluded). When you watch other countries people deal with things they disagree with in the government, it’s friggin’ serious. But here, it’s just a bunch of jobless hippies who protest. The reason is that we have a superior government where you can simply write to your representatives and they get the same message. If you don’t like what they do, just vote them out. The truth of the matter is that our representatives do whatever they please, and it’s good marketing (with lots of money) that gets them reelected.

So the illusion is over. America is what it is. Have a good birthday, old man.

I was reading The Democrat and Chronicle the other day and, once again, was irritated by the kind of stories they cover. But then it hit me: the “news” is not about “what’s going on” but “what are the exceptions to what’s going on.”

The story that made me think this was on page 2 of the first section — a rather prominent place for a news story. It was about a girl in Rhode Island who was run over by a school bus. It’s thankfully rare that students are not killed (particularly in such an ironic way) but the article made a point of noting that the girl was not paying attention — she was apparently listening to headphones and looking at her cell phone.

Now as a pedestrian, a cyclist, and a driver, I know that motor vehicles are very dangerous. [Ok, maybe because I'm curious, I'm observant, and I rely on factual data to form my opinions ... lots of pedestrians, cyclists, and drivers don't seem to pay much attention ... anyway ...] So I wondered why this story was considered so important. It seemed to have to do with the girl being distracted — perhaps amplifying a commentary that youth are oblivious to the world around them today.

But then I realized that I should be looking at the “reciprocal” of the story — to look at what the norm was that this case was an exception. The norm is that children cross the street safely almost all the time, school buses rarely get in accidents with pedestrians, and if there is an accident involving a vehicle and a pedestrian, it is almost always the fault of the driver of the vehicle. (And by that, I’m referring to the fact that the driver, as the controller of a potentially deadly device, must guard against harming anyone at all times.)

So I took a look at the rest of the paper and found the same to be true. I couldn’t find the articles from Saturday, but some of today’s headlines are as follows: “Greece officer faces additional charges [of coercing sex from a woman]“, “Teen testifies about alleged sexual attack by [former county legislator William C.] Bastuk”, and “[Latasha] Shaw’s 911 tape [of a call prior to being killed by a mob] played at trial”.

None of these things are normal. They are all exceptional. As such, the news does nothing to inform the public about what is happening — they are claiming to do just that, but instead report only on exceptions. In doing so, most people I know believe that the world is this terrible and dangerous place when the opposite is really true.

My idea on all this is to start a paper called something like “The Rochester Mundane” that would report things like “100.0% of Rochester residents not murdered” (rounding from 99.98%) or that “police officers do not generally coerce sex,” “legislators do not attack people,” and “for most calls to 911, help arrives in time.”

The first problem is that I don’t have the time. The second is that it would be wildly unpopular. I mean, who wants to know about what’s really going on?

I headed to RIT (One Lomb Memorial Dr., campus map) to see Maira Kalman speak as part of The Caroline Werner Gannett Project. As far as I can tell, she’s a respected artist who generally paints with a feeling of childlike innocent observation. The title of her talk was Just Looking — and I understood that to refer to the act of looking without distraction, without thinking, and without judging. Her discussion was very similar to her TED Lecture, “Maira Kalman, the illustrated woman” in case you’d like to see for yourself.

Overall I found her to be charming, witty, and kind-of irritating. She’s has a disarming self-defacing kind of demeanor at this lecture — for instance, she referred to her art as “just a side thing”, claiming that cleaning is her main task in life. I felt as though she gets a lot of credit for observing the small things in life that go unnoticed by the seeming majority of people. And that group, I think, finds her observations incredibly fascinating. But I, well — not so much. This kind of observation is not particularly new to me, and pretty integral to my way of life.

She also seemed to take great pride in not knowing anything — something I disliked on two levels.

First, I think it’s a philosophy that attracts bad communists. By that, I mean that there is a certain kind of person who has little in the way of skills, but who feels entitled to be cared for by others. And by skills, I mean not only job-worthy skills of the day, but basic functional survival skills.

In this day and age, it’s somewhat irrelevant, because despite what people who write books about winning say, this is a plentiful age. As such, “survival of the fittest” is not relevant today — we’re in the equilibrium between the punctuating of the punctuated equilibrium theory of evolution. It’s only during those times of dramatic hardship that hoarding and winning against your neighbor is necessary.

And so these people are not “entitled” but “lucky”. True: there is a certain amount of luck to surviving when a volcano erupts and causes a tremendous change in the world’s climate, but knowing how to purify water, prepare food, and build reliable shelter are things that would shift your chances of surviving. “Knowing nothing” won’t help you nearly as much.

Second, the whole claim to “not knowing” is a lie. She knows full well how to observe, how to paint, how to filter the finest grains of the world — all things that show in her work. I think her point might be that “knowing” is not the be-all, end-all of existence. “Doing” is another significant part of a rewarding life — for “doing” is the only success there is; “not doing” the only failure.

But by focusing on the “not knowing”, there is another kind of person who irritates me who embraces that meme: those who argue that knowledge is a folly. They’re frequently also lousy communists, but occasionally they’re just philosophers who are too deep in the rabbit hole. The basis for their argument is irrefutable: you cannot predict the future. If you can’t predict the future, then any knowledge is barely a guess as to what’s going to happen — so why try with this whole “knowing” thing at all when it’s just a recording of the way things happened before?

It would be a disturbing day indeed if I had a basket of six apples and put three more in, only to find there were now 4,388 apples in the basket. But until that day, there will be nine apples in the basket. So as long as metal conducts electricity, and gravity is pretty much constant, and I can catch a ball, and the Internet does what the Internet did, I’ll stick with knowing.

The trick, I think — and my interpretation of Kalman’s talk — is to be able to turn it all off. It’s a fascinating exercise to see the world not as objects in space, but as strangely behaving colors and shapes. To look at a tree and just see it as a trunk that splits and splits and splits ultimately into tiny twigs is good. To live in that world of wonder all the time … eh, not so much.

I stopped by at Verb Café at Writers and Books (740 University Ave.) for the meeting of The Bertrand Russell Society. David White was there to talk about Joseph Butler and Ken Wilber. White brought faith in the possibility of a “New Age” — where humans would work together toward common goals using a far more fluid communication method than the chunks of individual works produced today.

His evidence is the proliferation of conversational communication across vast distances. Essentially things like text messaging and blogging where the works are specifically brief. He teaches a course which exploits this: rather than asking students to summarize a work in an elaborate essay, they are invited to explore it then to respond to a small part of it that they found particularly interesting or inspiring. The aggregate of these responses is a new cumulative learning.

I feel that the development of a global consciousness is likely, but the form it will take will be much more subtle. I disagree with the notion that it will be guided by any person claiming to be a guide although some will migrate in that direction. Rather, I feel it will form organically and naturally only through careful nurturing.

One of the concepts that’s poison to this idea is one of failure. We seem to have this collective notion that there are people who fail — and with at least a subtle negative connotation — and others who succeed — the pinnacle of existence. This dichotomy is entirely wrong.

The nature of a rewarding life is to constantly try. And that means — at least in this parlance — failing. As such, this “failure” is not “failure” at all, but evidence of actually trying. Not failing is not trying which is a much worse fate.

White cited Plato’s Allegory of the Cave as an analogy to the difference between thinking like today and thinking like the “New Age”. People who think like today — like individuals competing to survive — are like Plato’s prisoners in the cave, resigned to seeing the world as simply shadows on the cave wall. Those who think in a “New Age” manner are analogous to those who escape and return to describe the world outside, explaining the shadows. Unfortunately, the prisoners are certain their form of reality is correct and reject the new information.

I think White was trying to act as a guide: that by taking the prisoners through the steps to the outside that he could teach them the more complete truth. However, I believe more in human behavior based on Plato’s cave: that people will nearly-unanimously reject the notion of a “New Age” and of thinking in a different way.

As such, I think a better way is to reject the concept of failure as it applies to a person’s life. In this way, the prisoners are released and free to go. Admittedly, convincing people that failure is false is nearly as difficult a task, but I’ll argue that it is already ingrained in the culture of the U.S. West Coast with their “it’s all good” kind of philosophy.

Ali and I went to The Little (240 East Ave.) to catch a couple movies. She had read the book and wanted to see the film The Reader, and I’ve been meaning to catch Vals Im Bashir (Waltz With Bashir). They both started about the same time — although the shorter Waltz started 10 minutes earlier, so I got out some 45 minutes earlier. I headed to Spot Coffee (200 East Ave.) but couldn’t figure out how to get on the Internets with their wireless Internet [assuming "Spot on WIFI" was the SSID of their network.]

Anyway, Waltz With Bashir is a rather interesting movie. It’s an animated film about a man who had fought in Israel’s war with Lebanon 20 years ago. He can’t remember anything of his involvement in the war until one of the people he fought with reveals a recurring dream. The man then seeks others who fought in the war by his side to help him get his memories back — particularly about a massacre he has the most trouble remembering.

The scenes of war were particularly surreal. Not because of the unreal aspects of the animation, though, but from the insanity inherent in war itself: particularly those aspects that bridge peaceful life with war life. The soldiers are expected to behave a certain way, but their humanity draws their attention to commonplace things: sounds and silence for example, or the benign apathy of plants to politics, borders, and war.

I look at this whole war thing like I must be crazy. I mean, I can’t see how it makes anything any better. It’s a deliberate act of malice that changes the course of people’s lives, justified in future retrospect that it will have been seen as unavoidable and written in history as a good thing by the victors.

So I see these films that portray war as this absurd exercise and it seems true through the rich approximation of emotions. But then I’ll talk with some guy returning from Iraq and they all say it was such a rewarding experience. On the one hand I feel like my fellow fairly-trade-coffee-chewing aristocracy, proud of our nuanced and clearly superior understanding of war. Yet it’s a much more filtered view than those who are actually at war.

Unassailable logic dictates that to really get an answer, I’d need to go to war myself. But aside from gaining more knowledge about the world, I otherwise find the idea, well, bad.

I think I might just leave this one unknown.