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[FBT] on Trees and Toucans

Maybe I’m a tree

The sour cherry is a dwarf compared to the Parrotia persica it’s standing next too. They are buried , temporarily, in sand from the construction site. The winter cherry two doors down is losing it’s blooms but it will bloom again, or so they say, sometime in the autumn. The serviceberry, juneberry or shadbush – an Amelanchier lamarckii – has spots on its trunks.

The Jesus Tree has been blooming, a week early, I guess, because Easter is this weekend. Perhaps Jesus doesn’t actually live in that tree, it was just a coincidence that for the last however many years the pear tree exploded in blooms on Easter. The haselnut looks so much better now that it’s finally been pruned. The nearly 4 metre mirabella is a gift for someone.

Then there’s the wood. Not technically trees, I don’t know the word in English. “Shrub”, apparently, “a woody plant smaller than a tree”, according to the Oxford dictionary. It seems strange to me that the word “woody” is used to describe something in the dictionary. Is it wood? What is the definition of wood? If wood comes from a shrub is it not wood because wood can only come from a tree? What is the difference between tree wood and shrub wood? Can wood be shrubby or…

Have I lost the plot?

The last I checked 1,676* people have been disappeared by ICE since those goons decided to skip due process, break all the laws and fling their tyrant-loving limbs around while every one watches in abject horror. Those are the people who have been disappeared. I guess in the grand scheme of things, it’s not that big of a deal. Thousands of Ukrainian children have been disappeared too. Deported to little Russian towns. Some have been found, teenage girls adopted by Russian officials.

*this number went up 153 people between Thursday afternoon and Friday morning :/

I don’t know how to get into the information bubble that says any of it is ok. Or, rather, I probably do know but my empathy bones are titanium and my skull is not. My outrage is overwhelming, but I ate cereal this morning. I do not think I should go to the United States (I explained why in my last newsletter, nearly a month ago), but I haven’t mentioned that to people I know who voted for this.

And I do know people. People I don’t talk to about how I’m feeling because while related, we are not the same. People who think that these dudes deserve credit for having unassailable wealth handed to them and managing to keep it despite being absolute asshats. People who still think these people are genius, despite all the photo and video evidence that proves the absolute opposite. People who haven’t lost anything yet, people who think they don’t know anyone yet, people who are in this other bubble that I don’t understand.

It is fear and silence that make atrocious things possible. Looking away and being normal about it is what fascists hope we do. And make no mistake, fascism is afoot. Ohhh now *that” is an excellent title for something, Fascism is Afoot. That’s mine, I’m claiming it.

I’m sorry I went silent for a moment. Truth be told, lately I’ve been struggling with having anything left to say. I’ve been feeling unmoored. Broken. Not myself. Stressed. But since I’m not going to see some of you for a good long while, and because I actually do love you and miss you, I’m trying this week.

Maybe I’m a bird

amazing illustrations from Dori the Giant

My favourite bird is the toucan. I met one many, many years ago in a jungle in Peru. I went to a toucan refuge a few years ago. Toucans hop around. They don’t walk, they hop and it’s adorable. Some animals just seem happy. Another bird story from Peru, a red macaw stole my winning gin hand while his little friends yelled “hola” over and over again. Little bastard. If you’ve never seen a toucan hop around, you can surely watch a video about it. If you’ve never had a macaw take your playing cards, you can ask AI to make a video for you. 

Get yourselves some simulated experience because reality is overrated anyway. A circling flock of red macaws and the intricate pattern of their simple-minded bullying at a campsite in the Amazon as a visceral memory that reminds you of that one wild and free life you’ve been living isn’t life-saving, we promise, just keep looking at the screen.  

One educator I know has been telling her youth that they need to become really, really good programmers so that AI can’t replace them. I’ve talked about how AI is a crappy intern, but unlike mentoring an intern there’s no benefit to fixing AI’s mistakes. I’ve been trying to get my intern to do useful things, but for the most part I’m just fixing AIs generated bullshit. I find myself doing the bare minimum because I’ve spent my career online and right now, I want to be outside.

Last week I talked to a bunch of teenagers at a hackathon called “Hacking for Future”. I told them that they needed to discover a passion for learning and do that their entire lives. That technology is an ever-changing field, but that if you learn and you wield your technological powers for good, you can make ripples that change the world for the better.

I didn’t tell them that I found AI boring in a way I don’t understand. I didn’t tell them that I think people using AI for therapy is depressing af. I didn’t tell them that I cannot make my brain respect AI, nor can I make myself anthropomorphise it. I didn’t tell them that I would rather (and do) talk to myself as if I am multiple people than talk to an AI. I just told them to learn and be nice and that they can make the world a better place. They’ll have to deal with the truth of human existence all on their own. 

Maybe I need help

What if grief is a burrowing animal that once inside stays forever? What if it changes the tunnel system of your psyche and makes repairs on some of those neural pathways  impossible? What then?

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