There is a lot to address this morning, and only some of it is appropriate to the morning story.

The news was electrifying. I was mulling it over all morning and into the afternoon. My physical recovery is continuing, and I can hobble around without the crutches when I forget to pick them up. It is awesome. Accordingly, I felt good enough to get cabin fever pretty bad yesterday, and the mental wrestling with the Supremes and the Stolen Valor afterthought to the health care thing.

I had taken a shower (yea!) and looked OK and was reasonably presentable. I was feeling pretty good, too and starting to do chores again. I managed to struggle down to the Bluesmobile and liberate my dry cleaning from the trunk where it was placed two weeks ago. All the laundry was done, the house looked pretty nice, and so I decided to treat myself and go to Willow on the crutches.

Old Jim was the only regular there- except Jon-without and the Lovely Bea who came in as I was about done. John-with apparently had the vapors over the health care verdict. Jim and I had the usual and goofed with my Bizzarro World family.

I shared the Flying Monkey thing with Jim, since I understand part of the Affordable Care Act provides the IRS with 17,000 new employees. That cartoon is one of the lighter appreciations for the curious outcome from the Supreme Court yesterday.

That is one way to look at it. Like Jim, I have three friends (at least) who have to be happy that their pre-existing condition may be covered after all. If the law survives, that is, but now the issues for the election are clearly defined as they can possibly be. Maybe that is what the Chief Justice wanted.

My personal opinion is that Justice Roberts acted to preserve his court’s authority and legitimacy. The Court is intrinsically the weakest of the three co-equal branches of government, and this might just be as fundamental an opinion as Marbury vs Madison. In exchange for handing the Executive Branch a victory (of sorts) he also ensured that the Court would not be the lightning rod for mass discontent, and the diminishment of the institution he serves. Since the Constitution of late appears to be one of the “nice to have” options in the Government, he may just be trying to salvage the best deal he can.

Recall the last time this sort of stand-off went down between Justice and Executive? Liz-S, a known attorney, commented on the relevancy of Marbury v. Madison at the bar. But I am getting ahead of myself as usual.

(The bar staff at Willow reacts to the implications of the Roberts decision vis s vis Marberry and Madison, et al. The eyes have it. Photo Socotra.)

More recently, FDR’s “pack the court” threat to over-run the Supremes on the mid-1930s made compromise between that era’s conservative majority and the Executive literally a matter of the court’s survival. I firmly believe that Justice Roberts was fighting to save his institution. I do not know what the threat was- some clandestine threat from the White House, or a simple political decision to not put the court in the crosshairs of the impending election. I think it is similar to what Fed Chair Bernanke did with the “faint praise” continuation of Operation Twist rather than a full out renewal of Quantitative Easing, which would be construed as a political life-ring to Mr. Obama.

There is a lot here that I do not know. I am going to give Roberts the high road on his approach- but I have also read some purportedly smart analysis that claims that a “tax” requires only a majority vote in budget reconciliation rather than a “penalty” which requires 60 votes in the Senate. Not that we do budgets anymore, but that is the claim.

I am not smart enough a parliamentarian to know the difference. I guess we will see as this unfolds.

I checked my old records. Even though I have a health care plan, it looks like there is an additional 3.8% tax that is going to smack me for FY-2013. Add in the expiration of the Bush Era tax cuts and that is a significant change. I guess the Flying Monkeys need more cash.

The outcome is predictable. Rather than pay my fair share, I think I will Occupy Retirement. That will be sort of what the Bureau of Labor Statistics does- I don’t want to hurt anyone, so I will just drop off the back end of the system and not get counted as anything at all.

But you know, don’t worry, be happy. It is hard to take this completely seriously. We all have other factors in play.

I have been hyperventilating about the people I know in the path of the fires out West. Most are OK, though my pals Patrick and Tina lost the house they just bought for retirement by the Air Academy north of downtown Colorado Springs.

That is a real immediacy and a pretty stark contrast with the slow-motion train wreck that is Washington these days.

I have to say, between the Court and the Inferno and the long recuperation, life is grand. I sipped some rich flavorful Dazbog-brand Colorado-Russian roasted coffee. A shadow flickered past my window, and I sat bolt upright in the wheelchair.

“Holy shit,” I thought. “That was strange. Don’t the winged monkeys normally fly out of our butts?”

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra

www.vicsocotra.com

(As a shut-in, I have been collecting funny pictures of animals. This Super Groundhog is courtesy of the nice people at Polite Dissent, copyright 2006. It is a fine line between a hobby and madness, as Mr. Barry notes.)

I hate snipers, IEDs and fire in about that order. Floods are acts of the Goddess, and we just have to go with the flow. Not that anything is flowing, per se, though I am hoping for rain in Colorado later today. Remember the troops on the fire line. There are heroes all around us.

30% chance of T-storms is what they predict, which here in Arlington would not make me stick the Totes umbrella in my briefcase. Hope for rain, pray for the tired people on the fire lines.

We are all hanging around here, waiting for reports of the fire or the Supreme Court. They were lining up downtown starting at 0330 to get a spot in the court to hear the decision. This is the last official appearance on the Men and Women in Black for this iteration, and they are going to change history or something with the verdict on Health Care.

First, though, they are going to pronounce on whether it is a protected First Amendment right to claim to have been awarded military medals that were not.

I am favor of the First Amendment, but I think this one is easy. The citation that goes along with the fancy bit of ribbon and the stylized metal pendant that hangs on it is an official government document. Claiming the words on the citation to which one is not entitled is therefore a false official statement, which is illegal the last time I looked.

Fine the frauds, jail them, tar and feather and ride them out on a rail. Easy. But nothing is easy up there on the bench, I gather, and I don’t imagine today will be any different.

By way of contrast, I have no particular complaint today. I am on the existential side of the health care debate. I have been a fellow of fairly robust health and ignored the whole thing, relying on the military to take care of dog bites and the odd tactical health problem until this systemic failure of the leg.

That wild interaction with the surgeon’s knife left me….in Ground Hog Day (again). If I am writing the same thing again, I apologize. It all blurs together. I recall the first one this year- the real one, the second of February. I was still healthy and had not yet fallen.

Just a month later, the fall from grace rendered me The Gimp, and then ten weeks passed without real improvement until the day, five weeks ago yesterday, that Papa Doc looked at the knot of tendon bunched up in my thigh and announced that he was going wield the knife, slicing just so (he used his index finger to demonstrate) vertically from mid-thigh across the kneecap and down to the upper tibia.

That was a joyous decision in retrospect, since although it left me immediately helpless and drugged-up, since that day 35 days ago I have been getting better (slightly) with each day.

I probably came home too early, but it was good to be back, even if I was mostly in that accursed chair to wheel myself up to the computer. But each day in every way things have gotten better. The little butterfly strips have mostly fallen off, and the leg brace moves its appointed and adjustable 40 degrees. I can even navigate limited distances without the crutches when necessary.

But here on Day 35 I find myself wondering how it is different. The improvement is so slight that day-by-day it is hard to reckon exactly what is different. Yesterday I almost got cleaned up to go out, stop at Willow. Have a reason to shave and shampoo and sit on that crazy shower seat and get a good sluice down.

I didn’t. The kitchen is the same. Most of the food is the same in the refrigerator. The weather has been the same, partly cloudy and cool. The work thing is the same- just like a rat, I hit the e-mail and answer the same sort of questions. When the email runs out and the reports filed, I read. I have been reading the same author with the same character on five books, which are all blending together like the days themselves.

Some things are different, but those events are dreamlike, floating in and out.

Last night. I sat out in the last rays of the passing day, still close enough to the solstice that it was light until almost nine. The pool deck below is quiet. Lukas –the-Polish Lifeguard probably has a completely erroneous view of what life is like here. Quiet, not raucous. The vantage from the fourth floor allows me to peer down and see life as it might be without me in it.

Too dark by half, physically and metaphorically. I don’t feel depressed, mind you. Feeling better is real. I just feel untethered with the quite accurate feeling that I am floating above.

The Holiday is looming, and I will get on the physical therapy as soon as it is done and behind. I will set up the appointments today, and finish editing that stupid book I am working on and clean up a couple of lingering things from the estate. Then, with the course of recuperation fully half done, even at the most pessimistic rate, I will listen for the sound of the first song I hear in the morning on the clock-radio in the bedroom.

“They say we’re young and we don’t know….” 

One of these days soon it will not be those words. Like Bill Murray, one fine day and not far off, it will be something else altogether. The world will expand again from the little bubble of the apartment. I am looking forward to that.

Every day. Better and better.

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

I can’t do irony this morning, or try to highlight some particular aspect of the stupidity of Life in These United States.

I am listening to the press conference at Coronado High School in Colorado Springs. The Fire and Police chiefs are there, and the incident commander and the Forest Service and the Mayor. This is serious and it is grim.

Last night the worst happened. It is not unimaginable. I have studied how these things work, and the mechanism of the torch we put to the enemy not so long ago. But the people of the Springs did not ask for this, and the perfect storm of backing and rising winds roared through the canyons and made the inferno leap two lines of containment and sweep to the edge of I-25.

It is not unimaginable. Some places the flames shook the heavens and sucked the oxygen out of the air and hurled burning coals in the twisting thermals miles away.

There are people in harms way, and all the animals. This is not unimaginable.

This is real. The conditions are dry as a bone and expected to stay that way. The winds may back around this afternoon again.

Please let the winds be light and protect the Responders. This is not unimaginable.

It is real. Open your heart and your wallet. I figure a C-note is about right to start

Live coverage

Vic Socotra

(Vigilant Chinese monitor PRC claims in the South China Sea. Image by artist Sun Ying.)

I got up, marveling that I could stand briefly unassisted and make the bed. The start to Day 32 of recuperation seems like a good one.

What did you think about Arizona and the Supreme Court? It seems like a muddle. The Governor claims victory, the Administration claims victory, and the Supremes all issued their own opinions of the dreaded immigration law.

The Justices also announced a change to their travel plans, not departing the heroic marble hall in which they labor until Friday. I suppose that means Thursday for the last shoe of this judicial session to drop, and they will issue what I firmly expect to be their muddled opinion on the health care thing. So, let’s put that aside for the moment.

I have been watching the fires in Colorado with more than a little personal interest, wondering idly if there was any connection between arson and terror. A pal with deep connections to Homeland Security is concerned about a thing called “attribution,” which in fire and cyberspace is an exceptionally hard item to pin on anyone specifically.

That is not the case for things elsewhere. I dropped into the wheelchair and rolled up to the laptop and the improvised work-station on the dining table. The first thing I saw was the last century of human activity captured in newsreel clips. Here is the link, if you are feeling frisky this morning. There is plenty to contemplate there, particularly if you remember a bit about almost half of it.

The wars. I remember the long pax that followed the defeat in SE Asia- except, there wasn’t one. I saw the ruins of a building in Beirut where a shipmate died, and the Khmer Rouge, and all those nasty little conflicts we only vaguely recall.

http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=Xxh-sS8Qoco

There seemed to be a war a year, some big and some small. I guess that is what got me going when I saw a post from our China group. The old Asia hands are quite agitated at the moment over the astonishing claims of the Middle Kingdom on the South China Sea. I normally scroll through the press stories fairly quickly, since I am on information overload. But this news caught me up short:

“The Chinese government raised the administrative status of the Xisha, Zhongsha and Nansha islands in the South China Sea after approving the establishment of the prefectural-level city of Sansha to administer the three island groups and their surrounding waters…”

I had to go to the map to check it out and was stunned. I mean, there is a lot to be stunned about, like how the last century dumped us here on the beach where we stand, but here is the reality of the slow-bubbling conflict in a place that my 7th Fleet buddies considered our back yard:

The map is courtesy of the Voice of America. The red line is the one you might want to consider for a moment. The PRC is claiming- apparently with a straight face- territorial waters within a cannon-shot of Malaysia, and the islands they have designated as theirs are claimed also by the Philippines, Vietnam, and a fisherman who happens to live in the Spratleys.

My pal Boats is pretty agitated, too. So far this has been a matter for Ms Clinton at State and our military plenipotentiary at USPACOM, not to mention our trusty 7TH Fleet sailors. Boats comes at this from a Coast Guard and Homeland Security aspect, funneled through the perspective of Admiralty law about the doctrine of “innocent passage.”

He is alarmed at what is going on. There has been a low-level conflict in progress for weeks now with Chinese proxy merchant and fishing boats versus Philippine patrol boats, fishermen and patrol aircraft.

His “American Admiralty Books” blog is a sample of what people are thinking about.

I will gist it for you, since we are all busy: “Rear Admiral Yin Zhou of the People’s Liberation Army- Navy (PLAN) speaks out of both sides of his mouth in the ongoing controversy between China and the Philippines over the Scarborough Shoal area. He tells the Chinese News Service (CNS) that Chinese Troops should board even Philippine Government, as well as fishing vessels in the area of the recent stand off, but “maintain restraint, not force, not hurt people” when boarding vessels in the area.” He then tells the Communist Party’s “People’s daily that the PLAN “will not hesitate to use deadly force against its enemies’.”

Deadly force? It is a recipe for trouble. There is a bunch of thought-provoking material in the blog that looks at the legal basis for claims, and the simmering conflict within 123 to 137 miles from the Philippine baseline claim from the lovely island of Luzon.

The area under dispute has been shown on navigation charts compiled by English and Spanish-speaking maritime powers as Philippine waters since 1734, updated in 1808, 1820, and 1939.

No charts identify names (like Xisha, Zhongsha and Nansha) until the eve of the defeat of the Nationalists on Mainland China, which makes me curious why the ROC on Taiwan doesn’t claim the area, too.

But never mind. The Chinese claims are based on the discovery of the area by Chinese Astronomer and Explorer Guo Shoujing in 1279.

No physical claim beyond bombast was made until the PLA-N gunboats showed up recently.

This would appear to be a matter of simple extortion by the Chinese, since their naval superiority to the Filipinos is overwhelming. The calculus is complicated, though. There is a strategic “pivot” of the Americans back to SE Asia, even as the DoD budget is about to get whacked by budget sequestration.

The Chinese assert a “First Island Policy” which has a curious resonance with our own “Monroe Doctrine.” The closest point of Chinese territory to the Spratly Islands is roughly a thousand miles.

If you know how much of the merchant traffic of the Pacific is funneled through the navigable waters of the South China Sea, you might sit up and get concerned.

I know I am, particularly when you consider what the maritime claims look like, really.

The Logo of the Rolling Stones.

Have a great day. Do dragons swim? Of course they do. I needed something else to worry about, just when ENS Socotra could be ordered to be a proud 7th Fleet Sailor.

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

There is an air of unreality here in Washington. It is muggy, people are looking forward to the holiday next week, and the moist cold-and-hot cycle in the weather continues. It may have something to do with the pattern of the jet stream, which is influenced by the Pacific Decadal Oscillation or the effect of el Nino or Nina, I forget which.

What I do know is that the Supremes have made their flight arrangements, and we are going to hear what they think about the provisions of the “Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act”(PPACA) and the Arizona “Support Our Law Enforcement and Safe Neighborhoods Act (SB-1070 as modified by HB-2162).

Both are political dynamite, or better said, torches thrown onto political tinder. The Court will do what the Court will do- it is a co-equal branch of government, regardless of what the Executive Branch mutters about it.

I know how we got to the PPACA, and it was an ugly process that delivered an ugly bill. Something needs to be done about medical care, since left to itself the industry will eat us alive. I don’t know if the current law is the answer, and will wait with you to see about whether it is deemed constitutional or not.

Ditto for Arizona. I don’t blame the state for thinking it is under siege and our Federales are doing nothing to help them out. I also recognize that the Court has the last say on this, and will refrain from comment until there is something to comment about. I deeply regret that we have arrived in a place where the simple exercise of state sovereignty is a matter of constitutional interpretation. We shall see, I guess.

Forgive me if both these significant issues pale in comparison to what is the real and immediate threat to people I know out West. My pal Mike is the commentator of the following report, which touches on issues of life, death, and the Economy Act. I will let his words convey what it is like to live on the shoulder of a mountain and watch the sky glow red with the fury of a wildfire:

“Morning, Vic.

Yesterday was a busy day here in Colorado Springs.  The evacuation of the US 24 corridor – from the west side of Ute Pass through the town of Manitou Springs and into the area west of Garden of the Gods – was completed.

Later in the day, they evacuated some areas on the east edge of Woodland Park (the first major town west of Ute Pass on US 24).  Firefighting forces were mustered and deployed, and commitments for reinforcements secured.  There was no attempt to contain the fire. Rather, fire teams concentrated on protecting threatened homes.  Despite south winds that pushed the fire away from populated areas, they probably had their hands full.  When I ventured out toward downtown about 3:30 PM, I could see fire lines on the east slopes of the mountains, not far above the expensive suburbs built on high ground there.  The fire crews had to work in one-hundred-degree heat.

Here’s a view of the fire from a distance of maybe ten miles.  I think the road in the foreground is US 24 as it approaches the east edge of Colorado Springs near Peterson Air Fore Base and the airport.

And here’s the morning report (as of 0700 EST) from KKTV.com, with my comments interspersed:

The latest estimates describe the Waldo Canyon Fire as being 3600 acres and still growing. Containment is still zero percent.

By way of comparison, the High Park Fire west of Fort Collins (north of Denver) is more than 90,000 acres.  The problem with the Waldo Canyon Fire is its proximity to densely populated areas.

Although the Waldo Canyon Fire continues to burn, evacuees from the Town of Manitou Springs are being allowed to return home. Those residents were notified around 6:30 PM that the mandatory evacuation would be lifted at 8:00 p.m. Although they are allowed to return home, the Manitou Springs Fire Department says residents should remain on alert for future notifications. Crystal Park will remain evacuated, according to the El Paso County Sheriff’s Office.

“I think this is the greatest natural threat that we’ve seen in this community in the past thirty to forty years,” Sheriff Terry Maketa said Sunday afternoon. At the height of evacuations, approximately 13,542 residences were threatened…

Luckily, no structures have been lost and no injuries have been reported at this time.

The lack of damage to structures is largely due to the fact that the wind has been from the south.  That situation is predicted to continue today, but by tomorrow morning the wind is expected to be from the west – pushing the fire toward Colorado Springs.  Temperatures will remain around 100 for the next two days.  Humidity has been less than 10%.

Smoke columns, which can carry quarter-sized embers with them, remain a concern, as the smoke can drift more than a quarter-mile away from its point of origin, making areas within that range vulnerable to flare-ups.

450 firefighters are aggressively combating the flames from the ground and air with several aircraft. Those ranks quickly grew throughout the day Saturday as resources were shifted off the Springer fire near Lake George, which is now fully contained.

Here’s a photo of an air tanker at work during the early response on Saturday afternoon:

You can see the fire retardant streaming from the plane at the lower right.  Air tankers are very useful against fires in rough country that is hard to get to on the ground.  The mountains immediately west of Colorado Springs certainly qualify as rough country.  There are many ridge lines, very few roads.

The National Interagency Fire Center, which coordinates the response to major fires, contracts for both firefighters and air tankers.  To use non-contracted aircraft before contracted resources are committed is a breach of contract.  NIFC can and will be sued. It would appear aircraft are fully committed (there are eight fires burning in Colorado and others in New Mexico and Utah).  Either that, or some other work-around has been found by USNORTHCOM, because the major source of non-contract air tankers – the US Air Force – will be employed against the Waldo Canyon Fire starting today.  There are two C-130s configured as firefighting tankers at Peterson Field.  Two more will come in tomorrow.  Here’s what they look like:

(C-130 firefighting pallet being loaded on an ANG transport.)

These aircraft are far superior to the elderly tankers that NIFC’s contractors fly.  The Air Force has, I think, nine C-130Js configured to carry the firefighting module you see being loaded in the picture above.  There is legislation pending to double the military firefighting tanker fleet.

The system for deploying resources in a domestic disaster is local first, then state, then non-DoD federal assets.  The Economy Act requires that non-DoD agencies reimburse DoD for the use of military assets – even if, for example, the military aircraft needed to fly anyway.  This is a good way to avoid wasting money but a poor way to respond to an emergency.  I’ve always believed that available military resources should be committed immediately when there is a natural disaster.  Today’s C-130 sorties will be the first of this fire season.  All the fires that have occurred before this have been fought without DoD assistance.

“I think we’re very fortunate. We have been able to get resources off the Springer fire to respond to this,” El Paso County Sheriff Terry Maketa said Saturday…

To go back to the DoD piece, there is of course a complete Army Division (4th Mech) of 20,000 strong, just down the mountain from me on Fort Carson.  You would think the Waldo Canyon Fire would never lack for firefighting manpower.  But again that contracting thing applies, as does the Economy Act.  Plus NIFC says it takes two weeks to equip and train a battalion of troops for work on the fire lines.  Two hours would seem more reasonable to me, assuming trained firefighters accompany the troops.  Equipment would be more of a problem.

Command of the fight against the Waldo Canyon Fire has now transitioned to a Type I incident management team from the Forest Service. Previously, command was shared by several local agencies.

The fire’s cause is currently still unknown.

Given the wind prediction, I think tomorrow will be the day to watch in terms of the fire.

This could go on for weeks…”

Compare and contrast. There is reality, and there is reality. I am glad I am where I am, where the skies do not burn.

Vic

(All-electric Tesla S sedan. Slick car for only $105,000. Photo NY Times).

I am at an intersection this morning, metaphorically, anyway, and in keeping with that line of thought, am hobbling across it on my mental crutches and trying to deal with a minor case of gas.

It took a placid day yesterday to get there. I hope to finish editing the magazine issue that is a month overdue to the printer today. The stack of action items next to the lap-top is actually getting shorter. I am actually reading a book a day- granted, they are mental bubble-gum detective novels and I need to up my game to something mentally challenging.

But what the hell, this is only Day 31 of the 84-day program.

It was a nice day, all and all, but I felt a little lost and a more than a little blue late yesterday after breaking a sweat in the bright sun on the balcony. Maybe my vitamin D was down- the sun helped.

In the growing darkness, I dozed and looked at the iPad on an off. Bad news. The canyons around some of my pals out west are in flames. There is a lack of snow-pack this summer, and the arid brush is nothing more than tinder. There are rumors that we have a firebug on the loose. It is a terrifying prospect, and the winds are expected to pick up again tomorrow.

Crap. When I woke too early, I clicked into the New York Times, a habit I am trying unsuccessfully to kick. Nick Kristoff had a column on modern Iran this morning. He is there with his daughters, for reasons best known to himself, but it is a provocative story. His argument is that Iran is much more nuanced and complex than the cartoon version we use as a convenient foil for all that is evil in the world.

Personally, I like the cartoon version, since it comports with my experience of Shia adventurism overseas, but Persia is an ancient land its is waters run deep. But it got me thinking about world oil prices, overheated campaign rhetoric and who is actually running the price of gas at the pump.

One thing for sure is that it is not the President of the United States.

A pal of mine did an analysis on the effects of the cost of a barrel of crude- West Texas or Brent, take you pick. According to his study, there is a price-point for mischief by state actors, of which Iran is just one. I won’t try to do justice to whole analytic process, but it seems quite reasonable and I will gist it here:

“The twelve OPEC oil cartelists supply 40% of the world’s oil. They are producing 1.6 million barrels in excess of the agreed daily quota of 30 million barrels. As a result, U.S. benchmark crude oil prices are now closer to $80 per barrel than to the $110 they reached only four months ago.”

That is good, and it reflects the unfairness of trying to pin prices on the pump directly on the occupant of the Oval Office. Of course the President can influence the future by decisions on energy extraction policy, but it is slow motion, rather than a direct cause-and-effect that remains the prerogative of the Saudis. He continued:

“OPEC’s hawks – Venezuela, Iran and Nigeria among them – want Saudi Arabia to rein in output. They need much more than $80 to cover their sole-source economies. Non-member but fellow-traveler Russia needs closer to $90 to avoid problems for its still fragile economy.” 

“So, what is it that the Saudis think? They feel they can finance their welfare state, the royal princeling’s extravagant lifestyle and the export of a virulent Wahabbi version of Islam at $80 a barrel.”

“So that’s the new floor – unless the Saudis decide U.S. production is becoming so great a threat that they cut prices to levels higher-cost American producers cannot meet. For now, the Saudis have several reasons for feeling that $80 oil suits their purposes – no lower, no higher. A collapse of the West does not meet the desert kingdom’s longer term goals, and they will probably boost production if the European embargo on Iranian oil takes effect on the first of July as scheduled.”

Fine. There are supposed to be about 600 years of oil and gas in the shale under the Square States, if the companies are permitted to extract it.

I am not going to get into the carbon mantra- I think the sun’s output of energy has got a lot more to do with our climate than CO2 concentration, and the last twelve years seem to bear that out. But it is Sunday and I won’t mess with religious issues.

Instead, I just want to note a major event in the history of sustainable energy, just as everything is aligning for stable and fairly low oil prices: click here for more.

The link is a gee-whizz article on the production of the new Tesla S sedan, a handsome vehicle with $44K batteries packed into a $55K car- or, a little over a hundred grand to roll out the door (before government rebates) for the early adopters.

I am a car guy- and I gotta say the Tesla S is one slick car- truly beautiful. The last one I recall looking this good was the Bricklin- or maybe the DeLorean.

I can’t possibly take advantage of the new Tesla. My building does not support charging an electric car. There are ways I might be able to change that- start a personal campaign and a petition and put in endless appearances before the Condo Board to get the money to rewire the garage, extend power to a charging station in the outside parking lot..and and and…

Not worth my time on a cost-benefit basis. If the Saudis believe that $80 a barrel is “sustainable” and meets their political goals (damn that pesky export Wahabbism), I will take it. And I will keep driving the Bluesmobile, even if it give me a case of the gas.

(Back to the future with the classic- and doomed- Delorean.)

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

I am sure there is something to be outraged about this morning. I can’t rev up the energy to get too upset about the coming increase in the rate of interest charge to Pell Loans. I listened to some earnest pundits talking about it. The President made it a big deal, like the Bad Congress was going to double the rate of interest charged to the struggling students, saddling them with crushing debt.

It is very curious. The total number of people affected by this appears to be around seven million people. Certainly a key-demographic, of a sort, but nothing will change on existing loans even if nothing is done, and the increased rate would only apply to money provided for this coming September and beyond.

Seven million is a big number- not as many as the number of undocumented immigrants, mind you (by about two thirds) and this is a niche issue for the rest of us- you know, the 311,591,917 other citizens. I just did the math. The affected population- wait, the prospective population that maybe will be affected- amounts to around 2.2% of the total.

The awful consequence of the interest increase might amount to $1,000 paid back over a decade. I am betting that many of those who are keenly interested in the issue spend more cash at Starbucks over the same period.

So, this is like a major issue?

I listened to the pundits rave on, pro and con, as I drove up Town Hill in Pennsylvania toward Breezewood, the Village of Motels. Having been down the rapids of the triage system of military medicine of late, I buy in completely to the notion that you allocate resources to those who are most gravely hurt, but who at least have a chance of survival.

This furor over the interest rate that will affect so few in such a relatively infinitesimal manner reflects how nuts we are, and unable to triage anything in the myriad of problems confronting us.

I mean, the house is on fire and we are worried about the individual books in the library? Oh well.

The topic blipped again yesterday afternoon. National Public Radio interviewed some student who vowed darkly that really big things would be happening on campus if the essentially-zero rate of interest (allowing for inflation)- was permitted to increase.

I did not hear a word about other ways to finance an education- GI Benefits being one, or ROTC being another. But with even fewer people in the military (about half of one percent of the population) than on Pell Grants, I don’t suppose it has occurred to anyone that there are other ways to actually earn benefits, rather than sit on your ass and demand a better deal.

I am deeply sympathetic to the kids who are graduating from college in this economy with huge debts. Liz-S at Willow financed her law degree and has a daunting bill that is not commensurate (yet) with the economic advantage of having one. I know there are kids who blithely sign up for debt without a freaking clue about what it means.

But here is the deal. My kids do not have any debt from school, and neither do the children of an old buddy who got me spun up about the issue while we were rambling on about something else.

“Did your kids have any debt when they graduated?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nope. We budgeted and then saved $400K to send both girls to college. I spent about $120K on the older girl, and about the same for her sister, though at a different school and some different costs. Call it a quarter million, total.”

“You came out ahead, or at least under budget,” I said.

He nodded. “Our money, spent as we saw fit.  And no student loan debt for the girls.”

“I got off light, too,” I said. “It was an ugly time, with the divorce and all that crap. Still, my home state was good about treating active duty military folks. For example, they didn’t impose state taxes on us if we maintained legal residency there. Other states essentially drive out the troops to places like Texas and Florida that impose no state tax burden.”

“Unintended consequences,” said my friend. “Public policy is always a crap shoot on how it will really work in practice.”

“No shit. My younger boy started school the day before I retired and had to become a resident of Virginia. So, we benefitted from public policy by paying in-state tuition.” I screwed up my brow. “I think it was about $180 grand, total, and I juggled credit card debt and some other structural stuff, but I got it done and they graduated with no debt at all.”

“So where are the parents in all this?” my buddy asked. “And why has a program like Pell Grants that was sold as being intended to help students from low-income families turn into a middle-class entitlement program?”

He shrugged. “Name me a Federal program that actually works the way it was supposed to.”

I thought hard. “Social Security? Medicare? Food Stamps? The Department of Defense?” I gave up after a while. “I think that I think better at Willow. Maybe something will come to me over there.”

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

(I am not sure, but since I have been gone, Jim may have entered the witness protection program. All photos Socotra.)

Ah, the longest day of the year!

Wait, before Old Jim beats me up for a deplorable for lack of precision, it is actually the day with the most sunlight of the year. The Summer Solstice!

It sucked at Stonehenge, the Mother of All Solstices. There were thousands of latter-day Druids and drug-crazed ravers at the ancient site yesterday, as the rain poured down. No one saw the sun framed by the massive gray stones, but they did not appear to mind. Reports were that some were pressing their heads against the stone in silent meditation, and others were shouting out pop tunes and swilling liquor in plastic containers.

One would not wish to despoil a world heritage monument with broken glass, after all.

All across Europe the festivities went on as dusk approached. In the high latitudes there would be no real dark at all, only twilight, with the reports coming in to Big Pink as I made preparations for my own Solstice celebration.

Across the North Sea, the once-hardy Danes lit bonfires, Norwegians did the usual Norse thing seasoned with Aquavit, Germans ran around in the woods and Swedes and Finns spent time brooding in secluded lakeside cottages with large amounts of alcohol. The Solstice there resulted in merriment, related drownings, auto wrecks and the odd bit of domestic violence.

I was having none of that, but Mac had a package for me to pick up at The Madison, and we were having a bit of trouble with mobility between us.

The Admiral had put his heart into the trip to Hawaii, and is slowly recovering from the rigors of the flight a third of the way around the world. I have only this week discovered that I am free of the wheelchair, but not agile enough to navigate the crutches any significant distance.

My Guardian Ensign volunteered to swing by Mac’s place and pick up the package, and I volunteered to hobble down to the Bluesmobile and meet him at Willow or the first non-medical or funeral related outing since the surgery.

“He was sitting downstairs in a blue Aloha shirt,” he said when we had taken up spaces at the Amen Corner. “You should feel his handshake. Powerful.”

I nodded. “You better believe it. He is probably more alive than I am these days,” I said, looking around the dark bar. The air was sultry from the waves of heat in the late sun. “Man, is it great to be out again.”

Tracey O’Grady stopped by to give us a quick update on what has transpired since my enforced absence from the Corner. Apparently the new Sommelier who was hired to replace Kevin has a ruptured disc and never did come on board, and between lovely Deborah and herself, they are being run ragged trying to keep up standards. She bustled away to complete preparations for the dinner rush, and the bar filled up with an older crowd of Yuppies.

I bought the ENS a Two Heart lager in honor of Hemingway’s river Up North and a plate of the newly-reconfigured Fish and Chips. The old tempura fantasy has gone the way of the buffalo, and the current model (after that astonishing Lenten Fish Fry meal Tracey serves during April) is very pub-traditional.

We did that and one of Kate Jansen’s half-Alpine flat breads with the spicy calamari.

Old Jim, Jon-without, and the lovely Liz-S all appeared, and it was delightful to see them again, my Bizzarro World Family.

“So, did you get a reading on Operation Twist?” I asked Jim. “I have been listening all day to hear and all I get is news about the Solstice.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he growled. “Good to have you back. I have not had impenetrable commentary in weeks.”

“Shucks,” I said, raising a glass of a marvelous new version of the happy Hour White that Jasper slid in front of me on the dark wood of the bar. Doc Adkins showed up in the same ballcap he wore on the Flagship when we were underway together, and it seemed to me that Jon-without might have had a new bow tie. It certainly was brighter than anything I had seen in weeks.

I was eager to get some analysis of Operation Twist, since like everyone else, I have no better idea of what the Fed is doing than it does, and the quarterly meeting of the Board of Governors had gone down that morning. The Sphinx was supposed to make an announcement, and he did, though I did not understand it. I said so, eyeing the last square bit of the Alpine flatbread.

“I could not find any reasonable commentary on Twist this afternoon before I came over. I don’t even know what the hell it means. Who comes up with these names?”

The Doc narrowed his rows under the bill of his ballcap. “It is simple. Here is what it means.”

“Pray go on,” growled Jim.

“The Fed lowered its future Gross Domestic Production estimate, and raised the assessment of the future unemployment rate.”

“What, so that is different than the Bureau of Labor Statistics numbers?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah, big time. The Fed doesn’t directly report to the Executive Branch. See, the Wall Street weenies hoped Mr. Bernanke would announce a new fiscal stimulus program.”

“You mean another round of Quantitative Easing? Wouldn’t this be the third one?”

He smiled. “You aren’t as dim as you look, Vic. They wanted the Fed to print money constantly and feed it into the financial sector like a drip feed in a hospital.”

“And they still won’t lend it. I hate those fucks that are too big to fail.”

“Yeah, those guys like Jamie Diman are still rocks stars in Washington. In his heart of hearts, though, he hoped wanted Bernanke would get in his helicopter and toss bags of money down on Wall Street.  But no QE3.  No helicopter.”

“So what is this Twist thing?”

“A small potatoes, net-neutral selling of short maturity bonds and buying of long maturity bonds.  He did say that he was “prepared” to intervene in the economy if it becomes necessary.  Prepared.”

“Wait a minute. Are you telling me Chairman Bernanke just voted early in the presidential election?  QE3 would have amounted to a life preserver thrown to the Obama campaign.”

“But doing nothing would have been a vote to get rid of the Administration and he didn’t do it.”

The Doc smiled. “It is a little early to be talking about football, but the Fed just punted on the Administration.”

“Fine,” growled Jim over a long-heck Bud. “No guts, no glory.”

“But I still don’t get what you are saying it means,” asked Jon-without. “What are the implications for us working stiffs?”

“Some people on the big ocean liner are starting to look at where the lines for the lifeboats start.”

“Crap,” I said in wonder. “I am glad I am getting out again. This is intoxicating stuff.”

Liz-S smiled. “Glad you are back, Vic. We missed you. Then she folded over her crossword puzzle in preparation for moving on. She is getting to be quite the government worker already, I thought.

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

“Rio+20 will be one of the most important global meetings on sustainable development in our time.”
– UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon

Mubarak? Not quite rest in peace time for the old man as I go to press, but close enough. I guess that is to be expected when a life-time job and a nation is stripped from you. It certainly is not the future he wanted, but all good things must come to an end, you know?

I cannot dredge up much emotion about the man, except a certain unease that the predictable has been upended with the possible. My natural proclivities generally support freedom against tyranny, and while the Egyptians do not appear to have been delivered from the latter, I am hoping that something good comes from the Spring in Tarhir Square.

It is not like we don’t have our own problems right here. I am tempted to add politics to the list of topics that I will treat with kid gloves. I know that is going to be a challenge the next few months as desperation rises and the inevitable October Surprise looms. But there is a surprise coming from the earnest bureaucrats of the UN in lovely Rio this week.

I always wanted a UN job. I was angling for a position up in New York one time- there was actually a military billet on the staff of the US Ambassador there, and I heard nothing but good stuff about the apartment that went with the job, and the tax benefits, and not being responsible to anyone in particular. As far as good gigs in government go, working for the UN was right there with NATO and the World Bank for cushy assignments.

I had to leave all that behind, and there is enough is this toxic soup of bad economic news and venomous politics that I am more than a little creeped out, and naturally focused on what is happening at home rather than what is going on overseas. This would seem to be a fine time for some navel-gazing, but the connections overseas are pernicious, from the Eurozone to drone strikes.

They are all wild cards, with direct implications to our domestic tranquility. I will not take a position on any of it, since I am as ignorant as everyone else in authority about what the unintended consequences might be of this mess. Maybe Mr. Bernanke will enlighten us on what it means. I am not sure this is the future I wanted, but no one asked.

The drone thing is just one of the matters at hand. Plucky anti-Yanqui dictator Hugo Chavez just took delivery of some unattended autonomous aerial vehicles (UAAVs) from his buddies in Iran. Apparently they came to Venezuela concealed in shipping containers, and according to the feisty former Colonel, are intended to be used for the Big Threat from the north.

What with our program of selective assassination in other sovereign states, I cannot imagine that we won’t see the Bush-Obama doctrine being utilized against us, perhaps someday even in these United States.

That will be a new beginning. Something we will have to deal with in the future, not quite yet, but we are making our bed and eventually we are going to have to sleep in it.

Like I say, I am going to try to stay away from politics, though I am not certain it is possible in this toxic hothouse of rhetoric. It will deliver, at the end, a framework for building a future which, according to polls, just about half of us, either side, have no particular interest.

In order to keep this screed on the high ground, I invite you to consider the latest intrusion of the future on our daily lives here in the present. The big conference in Rio this week- the Rio+20- probably has not blipped your daily consciousness, and there is no particular reason it should. There is only so much to worry about in the course of a regular day.

But I do invite your attention to the next event on the agenda of the Inter-governmental Panel on Climate Change. Like most of the antics of the United Nations, it is so bizarre that it seems worth ignoring, and I probably will. But this is pretty cool.

Check it out for yourself: the final draft document is out there in advance of the for the conference on sustainability that people are jetting in from all over the world to attend. I wish I could travel for it, but can’t, so here is the next best thing, the final draft report of The Future We Want.

The document is a daunting thing with hundreds of paragraphs “affirming” belief in all manner of extraordinary things, based on extensive and possibly imaginary past events which only a UN bureaucrat could reasonably be expected to cite, and none of which ever appeared for ratification in the Senate of the United States.

Scrolling through the document I had to continually remind myself of who the “we” are that are issuing the declaration and performing the affirming-and-believing contained in the document.

Here is who they are:

“Heads of State and Government and high level representatives, with full participation of civil society.”

It is news to me if that latter part is true, since the “civil society” seem to be composed mostly of Non-governmental Organizations with a bunch of unique hot-button issues and distinct agendas. But like I say, it this is a UN document and quite entertaining. See what you think. Is this the future you are interested in?

I dunno. We will be hearing more about this, I presume, since as a result of the conference, someone is going to be showing up with their hand out to see how much we want to pay for the Future They Want.

Personally, I am sort of tapped out at the moment, and I think I will take a pass. But you never know. It might be a future people want.

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com