Past, Present, and Future
chaoticutopia | October 15, 2008
American Progress by John Gast
Take note of the bison in the painting above, fleeing from America’s angel of death, a now-fallen angel named Manifest Destiny.Take note of the bison, fleeing alongside horseback-riding natives and dwindling wildlife.Take note of the bison, pressed ever-more westward towards a finite boundary, towards the Pacific Ocean. Now, notice the complete lack of fences.
Destiny, in the painting above, carries a reel of telegraph wire, but I can’t help but see it as barbed wire. Sure, this picture was trying to depict civilization as this beautiful, progressive thing,…
chaoticutopia | October 8, 2008Some folks say that bison belong here, not the ’burbs. The great herds once covered the plains, shaping the prairie in their nomadic graze. They were a keystone species, holding the ecology of the plains in a state of equilibrium. Native Americans who lived on the plains depended on the bison for survival, using the animals as a primary source of materials and food. Hides were used as clothing and shelter, bones were used as weapons, tools, and farming impliments. It may have been the most healthy lifestyle on earth at the time, at least nutritionally, if height is a judge of health. These…
chaoticutopia | January 10, 2008Citizens of Colorado seem to enjoy pointing out the fortuitous nature of the state’s climate. "Don’t like the weather?" they say, "don’t worry, it’ll soon change." If it is difficult to predict the weather on a day-to-day basis, how could anyone hope to predict the effects of climate change in the future? Even the most generalized predictions are helpful, as the same attractions that bring people to live in Colorado--skiing on snowy mountains or hiking in lush evergreen forests--are dependant on the climate. The same folks who comment on the climate depend on it as much as natural ecosystems-…
chaoticutopia | January 8, 2008For those who know my blog well, you might think this is going to be another apology for a lack of posts. Surprise... it isn’t. No, honestly, I’m just pondering the nature of time and complexity again, or at least how it applies to this thing we call life. It seems like we’re obsessed with being on time: hurry up and wait; walk, don’t run, but aren’t you supposed to be there by now? Sounds stressful. Yet, if there is anything I’ve learned about life, it is that stress is a waste of time. Are we all caught in some fantastic Catch-22? Or is there a way out?
All right.... this isn’t really a…
chaoticutopia | December 1, 2007
If you’re in the Denver area this weekend, with nothing better to do, then come check out the Rocky Mountain Roots Camp. I'll be giving a presentation on climate change and defending predictive science today at 1:30 pm in the chapel room of the First Unitarian Church in Denver (at 14th & Lafayette.) It should be fun!
If you can't make it (I know this is a little last minute) just check back soon; I'll post my presentation later.
In the meantime, I'll try to get this week's fractal up...
chaoticutopia | November 27, 2007I last left this blog on an ambiguous note. Followed by another unannounced absence, this might have seemed strangely ironic. It was for me--that post was written the day before my Thanksgiving break, and I had absolutely nothing planned--except to write. That, as you might have guessed, is exactly what I didn’t do. Hence the ironic part: I’ve been obsessing over prediction lately (that’s what I had intended to write about) yet I can’t seem to even predict my own behavior. Can we hope to predict anything, let alone global changes? That’s the big question.
Now, while I didn’t exactly write, I…
chaoticutopia | September 11, 2007A few posts back, I indicated that I was finished with travelling, and ready to settle into my classes at CU Boulder. Naturally, chaos has a way of affecting plans made with certainty. Sure enough, as soon as I returned from New York, I found myself packing my suitcase once again, this time to head to Wyoming and South Dakota for my grandpa’s funeral. The timing wasn’t wonderful; I had to miss a day of class, and ended up spending part of my "vacation time" studying. That’s where the chaotic parts played in.
Of course, the subjects that I’m studying are intrinsically relevant to me,…
chaoticutopia | May 17, 2007Life is cyclical, perhaps necessarily. Just ask a biochemist about metabolic pathways, or an astronomer about the motion of the planets. I keep running into cycles as I try understand the ecological history of the Denver metropolitan area. From the never-ending passage of precious water to the arguments over it, history is constantly repeating. Even more inevitable than the issues concerning water management (or anything else, for that matter) is one of the harshest cycles of all: Life and death.
As I've mentioned a few times, I've been trying to start up a few new features. For the mid-week…
chaoticutopia | June 21, 2006Today, the sun is rising to its highest point over the northern hemisphere. It is the longest day of the year--the summer solstice. But do we notice? Outside of a glance at the calendar, marking the official start of summer, it's just another day. Did the residents of Rochester Creek notice the solstice 2000 years ago?
When they carved these elaborate images into the face of the rock, were they considering the passage of time and the rotation of seasons? Were they librarians, recording useful information, such as astronomical or biological details?
Or were they shamans, performing religious…
chaoticutopia | June 20, 2006The trail to the Rochester Creek panel winds through a timeless oasis. After traveling through miles of dry canyons and salt washes, it is easy to see why ancient artists were drawn to the spot. As the trail follows the path of least resistance, it drops into a small, lush valley, filled with shrubs and herbs. It is easy to imagine people here, thousands of years before, dropping juniper berries and rice grass seeds into hand-woven baskets, while others chipped away at the rock wall above.
While the residents of Rochester Creek may have been in contact with others who grew squash and maize,…
chaoticutopia | June 17, 2006Endless miles of canyon stretch across the landscape, cutting deeply through cake-like layers of red and gray stone--the San Rafael Swell. I've always felt this hint of anticipation while traveling west along I-70. As the road drops into Green River, Utah, there's a sign that reads: "NO SERVICES NEXT 110 MILES" That sign always seemed like a taunting dare. Are you willing to enter this rugged, barren land, void of your beloved "services"?
I'm not sure if it is the remoteness or the beauty of the Swell which calls me, or the mysteries that lie within, but I find myself returning, year after…