072609

No hospital trip this week. Will be some time this coming week.

_____

Wow. I just have to share the love: I can now control iTunes from my iPhone, totally remotely. iTunes is hooked into my main stereo, and nice Bose speakers attached directly to my computer; with the subwoofer involved, the sound is simply miraculous. Most of this (including the iPhone part, which has to be on the same wireless Airport network as iTunes) is made possible by Airport, Apple's wireless system. May the cosmos bless them for it.

*Perfume*

[The literal translation of Gottschalk is "god's jester."]

My name is Jean Baptiste and I will be writing these little perfume columns from here on out. I am the greatest perfumer that ever lived; in my death, the gods, knowing what I had been in life, made me their repository for the greatest perfume recipes in history, a number of which are mine, I'm proud to say. I have decided to share them all with Mr Gottschalk and his new perfume company, Lord's Jester. Lord's Jester, you see, makes perfumes the way we used to make them: all natural, botanical, wholesome, none of the horrid chemicals in use by everyone else. In addition to liking the company name, I am greatly pleased by this old-world facet, and I trust you'll be interested to join us in our journey back in time, with the aromas of yesteryear, and figures like Apollo, Dionysus, Anthea, Helen of Troy, and Cleopatra. In the old days, we did get a few things right, and perfume is perhaps the greatest of our successes.

It gives me great joy to carry the torch of my great art which is very much in danger from impostors, from posers, from low-life grifters, who forsake the rich legacy we, history's great perfumers, had left them. Lord's Jester, and other entities like it, is preserving that legacy, bringing history back to life, and even heading out into territory none of us could ever have imagined; they, the Natural Perfumers (I hear some of them prefer "Outlaw Perfumers"), are doing a tremendous justice to the art as we saw it once, reflecting the infinite possibilities of the earth, speaking to memories, reminding us of innocence, manifesting the unspeakably sexy, and bowling us over with its guileless intimacy and honesty. Come delight with us in the many gifts Gaia has to offer; visit our web site (I'm told it's under construction, whatever that means) at http://www.lordsjester.com.

*Quotations*

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;

I want him at the shrinking of the tide.

--Edna St Vincent Millay

Such is the human race, often it seems a pity that Noah didn't miss the boat.

--Mark Twain

There are too many people and too few human beings.

--Robert Zend

The central purpose of each life should be to dilute the misery in the world.

--Karl Menninger

Whoever is spared personal pain must feel himself called to help in diminishing the pain of others. We must all carry our share of the misery which lies upon the world.

--Albert Schweitzer

The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves happy. The amount of work is the same.

--Carlos Casteñeda

The miserable have no other medicine but hope.

--Nietzsche

Art is the stored honey of the human soul, gathered on wings of misery and travail.

--Theodore Dreiser

As men are not able to fight against death, misery, ignorance, they have taken it into their heads, in order to be happy, not to think of them at all.

--Blaise Pascal

Companions, in misery and worse, that is what we all are, and to try to change this substantially avails us nothing.

--Franz Liszt

*Poem*

If I Knew Then

I wonder what happened to Nikki Sun.

Nicole Ogden too for that matter.

Shawne Sanders.

Amanda the dress maker.

A tall thin hippie girl

at Hampshire College--

for the life of me

I can't remember her name.

I touched all these women,

and they touched me,

but I've heard not a word

about them in years.

In a few cases this is

by design, in most though

it stems more than anything else

from utter ignorance,

blindness to the ways

life is for all of us

in the long run,

disservice to the very things,

the very people, I've loved

the most, callousness toward

those that I should have held

most dear. Hindsight is nothing

if it is not clear.

I would gladly take

an ounce of prescience

for a pound

of clarity in retrospect

any old day of the week.

*Philosophy*

Recently an acquaintance spoke of the "breakdown of moral dependency." Never mind that "dependence" is better, that's a beautiful concept. And it succinctly characterizes what happens with widespread misinterpretation of Adam Smith. If you know Smith at all you might be inclined to think him, in his role as father of modern economics, to be anti-moral; on the contrary he was deeply moral and every assertion he ever made was grounded in his moral convictions. That "the common good attains through the pursuit of individual self interest," in his book The Wealth of Nations, came with oodles of important caveats. Most important to me is that he maintained the common good would attain thusly _only if no capital or labor is flowing over international boundaries_.

He envisioned independent sovereignties which each had a strong web of economic and moral dependence _within their own borders_. When the economy is only that within your own nation, your ability to interact with corporations, from workers to management to administration, is greatly improved over what it is now, whether you be a business owner, a concerned citizen, or an angry government official, contacting them to hold someone accountable--right now, no one is accountable. The way it works now these huge multinationals do hide behind their very mobility and complexity, shirking their responsibilities, socially, economically, morally, at every turn, with no one along the line taking responsibility for any of the company's actions (or inactions). This state of affairs is the _opposite_ of what Smith envisioned; he's rolling over in his grave.

*Science*

I've been waiting for some time for the dawn of a new era: that of wireless electricity. When I was in Florida recently I described to my father how incongruous it seemed to me that we have all this high technology, and it's all chained to a wall or desk with an obnoxious power cord sticking out. I imagined there must be a way to power all things within a given space, just by virtue of their being located within that space. My father said he thought throwing power around could be dangerous. But the age of wireless electricity is upon us. The basic technology was unveiled at TED, an annual technology conference in England. The system works by way of resonance: it turns out that two objects which are resonant at the same frequency can share power/electricity over that frequency. As humans are not themselves magnetic they are not conductors of electricity so having these electrified frequencies passing through us is no concern at all. For now, before big money invests, they're showing off cell phones and TVs powered wirelessly. The day will come when your car starts charging the moment it's inside your garage.

One fascinating fact I wasn't aware of (aside from exactly how the above-described technology would manifest) is that Nikola Tesla (inventor of alternating-current electricity) and Edison (inventor of direct-current electricity) were highly interested in wireless power from the get-go. On the BBC it said, "'They couldn't imagine dragging this vast infrastructure of metallic wires across every continent.' Tesla even went so far as to build a 29m-high aerial known as Wardenclyffe Tower in New York." Funding fell through and Tesla's dream was never realized. Vast infrastructures of wires have indeed been dragged across every continent. An interesting fact: Tesla invented electricity as we know it, so why don't we know his name? He considered himself a scientist and inventor, whereas Edison was an inventor and a businessman. Legend has it that Edison went to see Tesla one day; on that day he convinced Tesla to sign over the rights to every watt of electricity ever to be made. Tesla didn't care; he didn't realize how big this was, and he cared only about science.

[Another part of the legend has it that when Edison arrived at Tesla's home, Tesla was holding what is described as a ball of fire; seeing Edison Tesla simply put the ball into a box; to this day no one knows what in tarnation that ball of fire was.] Now that wireless electricity is upon us I finally understand one important thing: it's probably not that Tesla didn't realize what he was signing over; likely he thought there was no money to be made in electricity that had to be hard wired together. From the sounds of his Wardenclyffe Tower venture, he was betting on wireless to be the way of the future. He couldn't imagine the vast networks of wires we have now, the ecological, financial, and social costs of such networks. Again, here we can look back, nod our heads, and say, "Yes, there was a man so far ahead of his time, he was lost of those around him." At the very least we can remember his name now, and say it. Please tell all your friends about the genius that was Nikola Tesla.

_____

On a rerun of Numbers this week, Charlie and a bunch of serious math jocks are sitting around the dinner table with Charlie's father, Alan, talking about chaos theory and entropy. At one point the subject of Maxwell's Demon comes up (the old intellectual creation of James Maxwell); Alan knows nothing about it, so the math folks explain it. Hearing the story again reminded me it is this very bit of "hokum," as Alan put it, that irks me about modern physics and economics (the two areas are inextricably intertwined). This one "intellectual exercise" gave rise to every aspect of modern, quantum physics, but I believe strongly that it was only ever _meant_ to be theoretical. The theory, while it is liberating in a way (it supposes that the second law of thermodynamics might be violated), sounds like a joke on its face: in an isolated system of two connected chambers at different temperatures (which the second law assures us would eventually reach the same temperature), there is a little demon and every time a molecule of warm air tries to pass through into the cooler chamber, the demon stops it and sends it back.

Sounds like a joke, right? In a way, it most certainly is. In fact the second law can never be violated, certainly not by means of a tiny demon. But this exercise has let many imagine a fictional world where the second law doesn't apply, and where both perpetual motion and also infinite economic growth are possible. Neither is feasible in this dimension of space time. Acting as though they could be is responsible for untold amounts of damage to our world, to forests, to local economies, to our collective long-term wealth. Einstein himself said in 1949, "Classical thermodynamics has made a deep impression on me. It is the only physical theory of universal content which I am convinced, within the areas of the applicability of its basic concepts, will never be overthrown." One fact that is overlooked mostly is that the "areas of the applicability of its basic concepts" are _macroscopic_. There is no portion of thermodynamics that was ever meant to be microscopic. Therefore much of the "science" I see around me today is in fact science fiction.

*News*

Jimmy Carter

Losing My Religion for Equality

July 15, 2009

"I have been a practising Christian all my life and a deacon and Bible teacher for many years. My faith is a source of strength and comfort to me, as religious beliefs are to hundreds of millions of people around the world. So my decision to sever my ties with the Southern Baptist Convention, after six decades, was painful and difficult. It was, however, an unavoidable decision when the convention's leaders, quoting a few carefully selected Bible verses and claiming that Eve was created second to Adam and was responsible for original sin, ordained that women must be "subservient" to their husbands and prohibited from serving as deacons, pastors or chaplains in the military service. This view that women are somehow inferior to men is not restricted to one religion or belief. Women are prevented from playing a full and equal role in many faiths. Nor, tragically, does its influence stop at the walls of the church, mosque, synagogue or temple. This discrimination, unjustifiably attributed to a Higher Authority, has provided a reason or excuse for the deprivation of women's equal rights across the world for centuries.

"At its most repugnant, the belief that women must be subjugated to the wishes of men excuses slavery, violence, forced prostitution, genital mutilation and national laws that omit rape as a crime. But it also costs many millions of girls and women control over their own bodies and lives, and continues to deny them fair access to education, health, employment and influence within their own communities. The impact of these religious beliefs touches every aspect of our lives. They help explain why in many countries boys are educated before girls; why girls are told when and whom they must marry; and why many face enormous and unacceptable risks in pregnancy and childbirth because their basic health needs are not met. In some Islamic nations, women are restricted in their movements, punished for permitting the exposure of an arm or ankle, deprived of education, prohibited from driving a car or competing with men for a job. If a woman is raped, she is often most severely punished as the guilty party in the crime.

"The same discriminatory thinking lies behind the continuing gender gap in pay and why there are still so few women in office in the West. The root of this prejudice lies deep in our histories, but its impact is felt every day. It is not women and girls alone who suffer. It damages all of us. The evidence shows that investing in women and girls delivers major benefits for society. An educated woman has healthier children. She is more likely to send them to school. She earns more and invests what she earns in her family. It is simply self-defeating for any community to discriminate against half its population. We need to challenge these self-serving and outdated attitudes and practices--as we are seeing in Iran where women are at the forefront of the battle for democracy and freedom.

"I understand, however, why many political leaders can be reluctant about stepping into this minefield. Religion, and tradition, are powerful and sensitive areas to challenge. But my fellow Elders and I, who come from many faiths and backgrounds, no longer need to worry about winning votes or avoiding controversy - and we are deeply committed to challenging injustice wherever we see it. The Elders are an independent group of eminent global leaders, brought together by former South African president Nelson Mandela, who offer their influence and experience to support peace building, help address major causes of human suffering and promote the shared interests of humanity. We have decided to draw particular attention to the responsibility of religious and traditional leaders in ensuring equality and human rights and have recently published a statement that declares: "The justification of discrimination against women and girls on grounds of religion or tradition, as if it were prescribed by a Higher Authority, is unacceptable."

"We are calling on all leaders to challenge and change the harmful teachings and practices, no matter how ingrained, which justify discrimination against women. We ask, in particular, that leaders of all religions have the courage to acknowledge and emphasise the positive messages of dignity and equality that all the world's major faiths share. The carefully selected verses found in the Holy Scriptures to justify the superiority of men owe more to time and place--and the determination of male leaders to hold onto their influence--than eternal truths. Similar biblical excerpts could be found to support the approval of slavery and the timid acquiescence to oppressive rulers. I am also familiar with vivid descriptions in the same Scriptures in which women are revered as pre-eminent leaders. During the years of the early Christian church women served as deacons, priests, bishops, apostles, teachers and prophets. It wasn't until the fourth century that dominant Christian leaders, all men, twisted and distorted Holy Scriptures to perpetuate their ascendant positions within the religious hierarchy.

"The truth is that male religious leaders have had--and still have--an option to interpret holy teachings either to exalt or subjugate women. They have, for their own selfish ends, overwhelmingly chosen the latter. Their continuing choice provides the foundation or justification for much of the pervasive persecution and abuse of women throughout the world. This is in clear violation not just of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights but also the teachings of Jesus Christ, the Apostle Paul, Moses and the prophets, Muhammad, and founders of other great religions--all of whom have called for proper and equitable treatment of all the children of God. It is time we had the courage to challenge these views."

Peace, love, and ATOM jazz

071909

I now have a good neurologist looking out for me. He's kind, attentive, knowledgeable, concerned, and generally on top of it. He's at the NYU Hospital for Joint Diseases Multiple Sclerosis Center. Thank goodness I feel cared for again after a couple of months of not. I'll be going into the hospital this week, as an in-patient, so that we can take care of a number of things: steroids (I'm in desperate need of a boost), a spinal tap (the risk of developing PML, a brain infection, while miniscule, is greater after two years on Tysabri; I've been on it for 2.5 years), and for speech therapy, writing therapy (I might have to learn to write left handed because I can't even sign my initials anymore with my right hand), and walking therapy. I'm very grateful that I'll be getting the care I need.

_____

Please look at a few photos of my new apartment, in the Places gallery:

http://gallery.me.com/adam69

I'll post more soon. One has to admit it's a pretty snazzy place. I am fully settled, and very happy.

*Perfume*

So, here I thought I was almost done--and another company registered opposition to my trademark application on Eros Aromatics. This one is a maker of vaginal lubricant also named Eros. With this latest opposition, one thing becomes very clear: Eros is a word everybody and his mother wants to use, especially in commerce. I will instead use some sort of eponymous name. The main problems with that idea are that Adam will run into the same problems (but worse) as Eros, and Gottschalk is just too complicated. My first real personal assistant said she thought an "exotic" name like Gottschalk was perfect; I'm just not so sure. Big names in perfume like Annick Goutal and Serge Lutens are still at least pretty straight forward; even if you get the pronunciation wrong it still sounds all right. Maybe some variation on "lord's jester," the literal meaning of Gottschalk, is in order.

My current assistant and I did our first perfume experiment this week: we made an air freshener. The idea came to me to make a non-citrus citrus type spray using kaffir-lime petitgrain and may chiang/litsea cubeba. The first go was okay; we'll give it a few days and see. But clearly it's too strong on the allspice; the lemony scents don't have a chance to develop under its grip. Nothing a little tweaking can't fix. I've found, though, that having a clove-type ingredient (clove, allspice, cinnamon) really helps an "aromatic ambient mist" come alive. This, when finished, will be part of the package I send to the Natural Perfumers Guild in application for the title of Professional Perfumer. Which perfumes I send in is still up in the air, though Anthea, my solid-perfume ode to jasmine, will almost certainly be in there somewhere.

*Quotations*

I reprint these because they're great:

I don't want to live. I want to love first and live incidentally.

--Zelda Fitzgerald

When we have faced down impossible odds, when we've been told that we're not ready, or that we shouldn't try, or that we can't, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people: yes we can

--President Obama

Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

--Howard Thurman

We make a living by what we get; we make a life by what we give.

--Churchill

A writer is someone who can make a riddle out of an answer.

--Karl Kraus

I have lost the consolation of faith though not the ambition to worship.

--Forrest Gander

The noblest worship is to make yourself as good and as just as you can.

--Isocrates

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all; there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.

--Anais Nin

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.

--Oscar Wilde

Chaos is the score upon which reality is written.

--Henry Miller

*Park*

This week I went with a new friend to a huge concert on the Great Lawn in Central Park. The Philharmonic played two symphonies, followed by fireworks. In my entire life, I have never seen so many people in the park. Word is that some 80,000 were there. From the moment I got to 5th Avenue all the way into the center of the park I was reminded that when I was young I spent much of my life in the park. I know every nook and cranny, every twist and turn, every hill and every valley. Things which were close together last I was there I now see are quite a distance apart.

I really felt at home among the teaming masses, shoulder to shoulder with people, butting in. I had a blast and was more than happy to be watching history unfold in front of me. The best part for me: I wasn't alone! I've been around the world and back a couple of times and all those worldly experiences were witnessed by me alone. There is no one to remember them with, there are no photographs (a very small number), there is hardly any proof at all that I did the things I did. My Chinese fluency may be one of the only bits of evidence.

*Top*

Top five NY delivery options:

5. Turkey burger

4. Turkish (falafel, humus, kebabs, etc)

3. Barbecue (short ribs, pulled chicken, creamed spinach, etc)

2. Italian (pizza, calzones, lasagna, etc)

1. Breakfast

*News*

Ten Things we didn't know last week (from the BBC News Magazine):

1. A new element cannot be named after a living person.

2. Plants that smell of almonds or marzipan are more likely to be poisonous.

3. The UK's median gross annual salary is £20,801.

4. The best Italian saffron is made from crocus flowers picked at dawn.

5. The world's longest bench is 613 metres.

6. Testicular cancer only accounts for 1-2% of male cancers.

7. Brahms liked his audience to clap in between movements.

8. Zoos in China use female dogs as surrogate mothers for baby tigers, lions and bear cubs.

9. Some lizards are so light they fall to the ground like a feather.

10. Buzz Aldrin received Holy Communion on the moon.

My one question is this: if Mr Aldrin received communion, who gave it to him? Wouldn't that be cool if it was an angel of some kind, standing on the moon looking down upon the earth?

*Index*

Adam's Index

Number of times I've been in Central Park: utterly incalculable; it would be comparatively easy to count the days I _wasn't_ in Central Park

Where everyone in Manhattan goes on weekend days in summer: Central Park

Number of times I've seen anywhere close to the 80,000 people in the park who were there last Tuesday: 0

Number of people who refused to scoot over and give me room on a bench last Tuesday: 0

Amount of fun we had just being there, without even hearing the music: inestimable

Degree to which I am comforted by being around so many people all the time: impossible to guesstimate

Amount the MS affects my daily interaction with the City: 100%

Amount of similarity between my old life and my new life in the City: hardly any

Amount the City cares: 0

Degree to which I like it that way: unknowable

*Wiki*

I find the story of Wikipedia fascinating, especially the part about it only recently getting bigger than a Chinese encyclopedia created in the 1400s. This is from The Writer's Almanac:

"The collaborative user-edited Web site gets its name from blending the words "wiki" and “encyclopedia.” “Wiki” is a recent edition to the English lexicon, and made its way into the authoritative Oxford English Dictionary in 2007. “Wiki-wiki” is actually a Hawaiian word, meaning “quick” or “fast.” A wiki is a Web site that uses a certain type of software (the software is also called "wiki" software) that enables users to quickly and easily edit the Web site, create content, and interlink various Web pages. A wiki is easy to edit because it uses a standard mark-up language, which is a series of notes and tags that describe the layout format of the Web site. Often the mark-up language is HTML, which stands for "hypertext markup language."

"In the mid-1990s, a computer programmer was developing this type of software to make Internet Web site collaboration fast and easy. He went on a vacation to Hawaii, and at the Honolulu airport, he needed to get quickly from one terminal to another. He asked an airport employee about the best way, and she told him to take the "Wiki Wiki Shuttle" — it's the shuttle that links the airport terminals there, the quickest and easiest way to get between terminals. The computer programmer, Ward Cunningham, adopted the name of the Honolulu airport terminal bus to describe his software, which was meant to be quick, straightforward, easy to use, and to interlink things, because he liked the alliterative sound of "wiki" when used with the word "Web."

"Larry Sanger and Jimmy Wales launched Wikipedia, the collaborative user-edited encyclopedia, in January 2001; it's now the largest wiki on the Web. To publicize their new creation, they simply sent out an announcement to an e-mail listserve. The new collaborative encyclopedia was to have no process of formal peer-review, which made it very different from any other encyclopedia, including online encyclopedias. At first, Wikipedia was only in English, and there were almost no rules except that articles were to present information in a neutral, non-biased point of view.

"By the end of its first year, Wikipedia had grown to about 20,000 articles in 18 languages. Today, less than a decade from its inception, there are more than 13 million articles in more than 260 languages on Wikipedia. It's the largest encyclopedia in the history of mankind; in 2007, it surpassed the encyclopedia that had held that distinction for 600 years, the Yongle Encyclopedia, commissioned by the emperor of China's Ming Dynasty and completed in the early 1400s. Nearly 3 million of Wikipedia's articles are in English. There are about 75,000 people who actively contribute to Wikipedia, creating articles or making edits to existing articles. It's the most popular reference work on the Internet and one of the 10 most visited Web sites in the world.

"The slogan of Wikipedia is "The free encyclopedia that anyone can edit." Because there aren't any requirements for expertise, the reliability of Wikipedia's articles are often called into question. Wikipedia is constantly coming up with new rules for user-editors, to try to ensure the encyclopedia's reliability and credibility. These rules are often explained under such subheadings as: "Wikipedia is not a soapbox," "Wikipedia is not a crystal ball," and "Wikipedia is not a democracy" nor "a bureaucracy" nor "a battleground" nor "an anarchy" nor "your Web host." But there's also an overriding rule, known as "Ignore All Rules," which is, "If a rule prevents you from improving or maintaining Wikipedia, ignore it." In addition to a committee of watchful editors, there are also a bunch of automated software programs to detect and delete problematic edits and correct misspellings and formatting errors. Articles that are prone to "vandalism" are sometimes locked, including the profiles of political candidates during elections."

*Music*

I realized that there is a set of 70s music that is my essential, fundamental soundscape. The names which make up that soundscape include:

James Taylor

Cat Stevens

Crosby Stills Nash & Young

Roberta Flack

Aretha Franklin

and many others.

_____

Josh Rouse--I must reiterate that Josh Rouse is one of the very best peri-millennial singer-songwriters. He had a long series of records every single one of which was good enough for a listen every day, a really phenomenal and somewhat idiosyncratic output. His last record, Country Mouse City House, was the first failure of his I've ever heard. The music on the following albums is classic (no particular order):

Chester (with Kurt Wagner)

Nashville

Subtitulo

1972

Dressed Up Like Nebraska

Under Cold Blue Stars

Home

Smooth Sounds Live

Smooth Sounds Rarities

Bedroom Classics Vol 2

_____

I came across a video this week of Joe Henry talking about his music:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_D8Hxou9PQ

I like it when he speaks of himself as an auteur who was trying to look at the songs he had prepared and make it so the listener could see the songs alone and not be aware that there's a "production idea afoot," so the music is comparatively stripped down. I also like his describing the song Time is a Lion as "just old-world enough, just trashy enough, just bluesy enough, and just Tin-Pan Alley enough" to hold his attention. I also really appreciate his talking of keeping "a certain amount of smoke in the room sonically and lyrically without forsaking the clarity; boldly available, even if they might be might be difficult lyrically, or dense lyrically," he wants the songs to be "shockingly available" (they are I can assure you). And, "People always ask 'If I go into a record store, what section would I find your music in?' I say the Joe Henry section. I don't know where else it would be."

A lyrics sampler:

"I saw Willie Mays at a Scottsdale Home Depot looking at garage-door springs at the far end of the 14th row. His wife stood there beside him. She was quiet and they both were proud. I gave them room but was close enough that I heard him when he said out loud: 'This was my country. This was my song. Somewhere in the middle there, though it started badly and it's ending wrong. This was my country, this frightful and this angry land. But it's my right if the worst of it might still somehow make a better man.'"

"Pray for you, pray for me. Sing it like a song: life is short but by the grace of god the night is long."

"God may be kind and see you like a son but time is a lion when you are a lamb."

Peace, love, and ATOM jazz

071209

About four years ago or so I started taking a medication called Remeron and in so doing got the first real sleep I'd had in ten years or more. It was _huge_ to be sleeping again, to be dreaming for the first time I can remember in my adult life, to begin each day (actually have a beginning and an ending!) well rested. At first the dreams were so enormous I found them frightening but eventually they calmed down; I don't hardly remember them at all anymore. So valuable has this sleep been to me that I have kept myself rather strictly on an early-to-bed-early-to-rise regimen. It has done me a world of good to have kept myself on such a tight leash but now I'm feeling I can let loose a bit. I've tested it, and I really do still need the drug if I'm ever to fall asleep (otherwise my mind does not stop racing and I lie there tossing and turning, which is really bad sleep hygiene) but I'm not so worried now about when I take it and what time I fall asleep. I can hang out with friends, go to shows, and be a regular person again!

_____

One might have fun exploring here:

http://www.urbansketchers.com/

*Home*

I got a desk/shelving unit that's really out of sight. It's based on the original designs of George Nelson for Herman Miller and is infinitely customizable; it seems everything great in modern design happened at the middle of the 20th century. My unit has a desk with drawer and three shelves above on the left, along with four more shelves on the right. The best part of the design is this: though it looks like a built-in, all parts are held up on three poles which are spring-anchored between floor and ceiling. I expected the drawer to be shoddy; it's anything but, made of solid wood instead of my most-hated chip wood. One can get all sorts of fine cabinets, and any sizes that suit one's needs, in addition to a variety of finishes (I got mine with black poles and black mica). The cabinets and shelves can be arranged absolutely any way the heart desires. Nothing is attached to a wall, the poles are rock solid, and one can pack it up and move it with very little effort.

This unit has the effect of turning my somewhat crowded apartment into a spacious, open, well-balanced home. A big part of the enlarging effect is that the unit concentrates storage and utility from floor to ceiling on a previously unused wall, the wall opposite the main part of the room--it's like adding a whole new section to the apartment. Now when you sit at one end you really marvel at just how big this place is; it really feels like all of its 800 square feet. The tension-pole system is so ingenious they (http://shelfshop.com) have got a customer for life in me. The stuff works excellently well, is extremely well made, and is highly aesthetically pleasing. The variety of possible combinations, shelves, cabinets, glass doors, garment racks, desks, is stunning. My arrangement altogether was about $600! Best thing you can find anywhere for the money, and it looks and works great.

*Poem*

My Tie Rack

I have a little story about

a tie rack I once owned.

It was perfect in

every way and snazzy to boot,

with a shimmering chrome bar

that folded out to display

some 60 or more ties,

elegantly hung on small hooks

which each had a little red tip.

It was one of my

prized possessions.

One day I moved,

and there my prized rack

sat on top of a box

in my new home,

in the front room.

So important was this item

to me that I was aware of its

presence, there,

on top of that box, just as I

became aware of its absence

the moment it left.

Even after I was fully unpacked

the rack never did appear again.

I've gone over it a thousand times,

what happened, who was there,

whose hands it could have

slipped into, and there is nothing

and no one. I now believe

the loss of this great tie rack

was a cosmic lesson to learn

one important fact:

I miss the tie rack

more than I miss my ex-wife.

Most days anyway.

"Quotations*

Meaning is not something you find--it's something you make.

[From The Closer on the subject of the meaning in a completely random, accidental murder]

Philosophical/religious discourse should have one great aim: to define the questions for which religion provides answers.

[From Numbers on the subject of ?]

Democracy is only as good as the voices of protest she protects.

[Rickie Lee Jones on revoking The Patriot Act]

People really like bass players who can play eighth notes, especially if it sounds good.

[My old friend and teacher Dan Schulte on playing bass well]

Perhaps increasing health span rather than overall lifespan might be a better goal.

[Dr Lynne Cox on the possible impact of the use of rapamycin to improve longevity]

It's not possible to advise a young writer because every young writer is so different. You might say, 'Read,' but a writer can read too much and be paralyzed. Or, 'Don't read, don't think, just write,' and the result could be a mountain of drivel. If you're going to be a writer you'll probably take a lot of wrong turns and then one day just end up writing something you have to write, then getting it better and better just because you want it to be better, and even when you get old and think 'There must be something else people do,' you won't quite be able to quit.

--Alice Munro

The moment you think you understand a great work of art, it's dead for you.

--Oscar Wilde

I'm afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all of its meaning.

--Andy Warhol

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.

--Anais Nin

The least of things with a meaning is worth more in life than the greatest of things without it.

--Jung

*China*

When I was in mainland China, I was taking time off from working myself sick in Taiwan; I was just wandering around finding whatever I found. One evening, not too far from Hong Kong, my first night in the mainland, I came across a carnival of sorts, a kind which was at the time as popular as noodle stands, on both sides of the Strait. They involved daredevil acrobatics, the stacking of many people on top of each other, and lots of spinning dishes, in addition to numerous other activities meant to distract and possibly entertain. It was in a small concrete stadium. I took my seat near the entrance after I'd bought my ticket, and after a few minutes I saw an older man in the row ahead of me look back then lean over to his friend and say, "Ta kan bu dong. (He doesn't understand what he's seeing.)" The man, not being very worldly as far as I could tell, obviously assumed that no white person could possibly understand him.

Needless to say he was startled when I immediately leaned forward and said, "Kan de dong, ah. Dzemma kan bu dong? (I understand. How could I not?)" He let out a little squeal, "Eih?", which was the sound of a Chinese person in complete surprise. The three of us ended up having a good talk, about acrobatics, about where I learned Chinese, about what I was doing traveling alone (I never did find any good excuses). If we had been in the comparatively rich Taiwan, we would have all gone out for drinks and a meal. We were more than happy to sit there half watching the (incredible) acrobatics, chatting, and, every so often, calling over one of the purveyors of mini-hot-dog sticks, or cigarettes, or baked yams who wandered all around. Simple times I will not soon forget.

*Nonfiction*

I was living on East 12th Street in the East Village in Manhattan in the early '90s, working at a health-food store on 1st Ave. I had a series of major realizations, about my life, about my health, about the world, that made me flee rather suddenly up to Maine with the intention of starting a self-sufficient homestead on family land. I was inspired by names like Thoreau, Helen and Scott Nearing (grandparents of the back-to-the-land movement, who had their own homestead very close to me), John Jeavons (the main man behind Ecology Action and author of How to Grow More Vegetables than You Ever Thought Possible on Less Land than You Can Imagine), and many others. I went up there with a new girlfriend, Nicole; we'd met only a couple of weeks before yet she agreed to give up everything and come with me.

The furthest we got was to start a small garden and build a cabin. I planned to head off for a second trip to Taiwan to earn money for the homestead; the furthest we got was Seattle. I remember the west-coast mesmerized me when I first got there (actually I had already lived in Berkeley CA for a year)--it's only some 17 years later I can see in fact the west coast cast a wicked spell on me, one which lasted some 15 years. I used a book, and my father's expertise, to build the cabin; the book was Building Thoreau's Cabin. I still have my dog-eared and dirt-stained copy of the book; my old friend Andrew's phone number is scribbled in the front; I still remember the day he came over--we had just finished building the platform on which the cabin was to sit

From Building Thoreau's Cabin by Stephen Taylor:

""The purpose of imagination," wrote Martin Buber, "is to imagine the real." Exploring the implications of that tantalizing, multilayered aphorism could easily be the subject of an entire book, if not a life's work. Yet building a small building--not reading about it but actually building the building--can be, in its own special way, another means toward accomplishing some of the same thing. I'm not saying you ought to build an outbuilding in order to understand more thoroughly what Martin Buber meant (although that might not be a half bad idea). But if you do decide to go ahead and build, you may find that, indirectly, Buber is offering at least as much help as you'll get from me.

"I should explain what I mean. Most of spend a sizable portion of our lives surrounded by wires and windows and heating ducts and pipes, by structural support members fashioned of wood or metal or concrete fastened with nails or rivets or bolts, by sheets of paper and plastic and plywood and sheets of paper soaked in tar, perhaps by tiers of bricks or mosaics of shingles or matrices of boards, and, strangely enough, we call this condition "being at home." Of course, when we _are_ home, we seldom take the trouble to imagine how all those materials fit together. As long as they leave us alone, we're usually more than happy to leave _them_ alone. But sometimes one or more of those materials assert themselves. They rot or burst or spring a leak or otherwise malfunction, and suddenly we're called upon to give them our attention. All along they've been quite real, but their reality's been passive, concealed by the scrim of god only knows what other competing concerns. Now, abruptly, their reality springs to life and makes us oddly anxious.

"Probably the anxiety we feel is of two kinds. The first kind has to do with all the questions of how bad the damage is--how much it will cost to fix, how soon it can be got to, how uncomfortable or inconvenienced we'll be until it's taken care of; all the obvious considerations that ensue when something crucial doesn't work. But the second component of the anxiety is much more vague and maybe just as troubling. It's the component of mystery, of things no longer being in control. What's gone afoul in the walls? Just what is it that's happening in there?"

When I left New York for the would-be homestead I was determined to confront the mystery of which Mr Taylor speaks above. I wanted to know better what was happening inside the walls, of my house, of houses, of skyscrapers, the everyday walls of the world, of what makes the world go around. The essential antiestablishment and ecocentric penchants I started with have served me very well. I can say now it's been a long strange trip. I've been led to places I never would have expected. In the end, I have discovered the most important details to fathom are not on the outside; coming to terms with the various walls inside yourself is far more important.

*News*

By Nikki Jecks for the BBC:

"Ten years after she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS), Lori Schneider decided she wanted to scale the highest peak on every continent. She achieved this last month by making it to the summit of the world's most famous mountain, Mount Everest. Climbing Mt Everest is a challenge for anyone--even if they are young and in the peak of health--but the 53-year-old from Wisconsin is the first person with MS ever to reach the summit.

"Ms Schneider, an avid climber, first dreamed of climbing Everest 16 years ago. But a diagnosis of MS in 1999 was a blow for the former school teacher. When she first got the news, her initial reaction was to run, rather than climb. "I ran away, I was fearful of what I thought I was losing in my life," she said. "I didn't want people feeling sorry for me. I was doing plenty of that for myself at that point, I was feeling like my physical life was over." Ms Schneider first noticed something was wrong when she woke up one morning with numbness in the leg and arm on one side of her body. The condition progressed to the side of her face, and eventually both sides of her body.

"Doctors initially thought she might have had a stroke or be suffering from brain cancer. It took several months before she was correctly diagnosed. After overcoming her initial fear and panic, she says the diagnosis actually empowered her to reach for her dreams. "For 20 years I taught children: 'Don't be afraid, take a chance, try', and when I was doing these climbs trying to climb the highest peak on each continent, I thought I'll do them all but Everest, because that's too hard for me. When I got diagnosed I thought: 'Just don't be afraid to try, do the things in your life that maybe you dreamed about'." Her aspiration has not been without its costs. Following her dreams meant leaving behind a 20-year teaching career and a 22-year marriage.

"Three years ago she climbed the highest peak in North America--Mount McKinley (also known by its native American name of Denali) in Alaska. For those in the mountaineering know, it is considered the coldest mountain in the world with temperatures overnight capable of dropping to -50C. After Everest, Asia's highest peak, and Aconcagua, South America's highest peak, it is the third highest of the so-called "Seven Summits". After coming back down she started to lose some of her vision, another symptom of MS. But that did not deter her. To climb Everest, the cost was financial, rather than physical--she used all her savings, sold her home and took out a loan.

""I've been very, very fortunate the last several years. My MS has been pretty stable and quiet in my system," she said. "I think the real hardship on Everest is maintaining a positive attitude for two months." Climbers of Everest face some of the most treacherous conditions imaginable; along with battling hypothermia, there is also altitude sickness, physical exhaustion, and the isolation of being up the mountain for so long. But with the help of letters and photos of friends, family and supporters, she kept herself positive and after more than eight weeks, fighting through a blizzard, she made it to the top. In achieving her goal, she has joined some of the world's most accomplished climbers and bested many others.

""It was very surreal, you couldn't see anything [because of the blizzard], so I couldn't see the beauty that surrounded me. We had to rush down so fast, but I did get a chance to give my father a call and yell: 'I made it, I made it'. It wasn't until the next morning when I woke up in my tent after climbing for 17 hours the day before, and then all of the sudden I thought: 'Oh my gosh, I just climbed Mt Everest yesterday!'." But she says making it to the summit is just a bonus. The real achievement, she says, is that in coming to terms with MS and the possibility that she may one day lose her mobility, she has been able to face down her fears. "Who you are inside; that's what's important. That will always be there," she said. "Whether my legs carry me up a mountain or not, I'm still who I am deep inside."

*Music*

One of the very best jazz vocalists ever is a woman named Irene Kral (_no_ relation to Diana). My jazz vocals teacher from Seattle, Kelley Johnson, turned me on to Ms Kral. You can't be sure you've heard the best until you've heard the recording Where is Love. I am not saying Ms Kral _is_ the best necessarily, I'm just saying there is a chance she is, or was. Unfortunately, she died young of cancer. She recorded Where is Love in 1974 with pianist Alan Broadbent, a young Alan Broadbent, and every track from beginning to end is miraculously good. She redefines some standards (Love Came on Stealthy Fingers, Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most) and revives some more obscure numbers (I Like You You're nice, Never Let Me Go). Every song is definitive in one way or another. My life simply would not be as rich without this recording. It's beautiful and heartbreaking; I found it a particular bittersweet kind of joy when my ex-wife deserted me. Highly recommended, especially before, during, or after break ups.

Peace, love, and ATOM jazz

070509

This week I realized something important about my perennial state as an outsider: to hit it off with "your average" person, the guy sitting at the bar, the person next to you on the bus, a new acquaintance, one must be an outsider. Most of us live at the periphery, of cliques, of brotherhoods, of wealth, and we tend to shy away from insiders. Insiders are concerned only with there being no trouble on the inside, whereas we on the periphery are naturally concerned with the state of the world, the thoughts of the guy at the bar, the well-being of the person on the bus. Long live the peripherals!

Also I realized that I'm almost 40! Aside from planning a big 40th birthday party, I realized I must plan now to have a blast for the rest of my time here. No holds barred. Just immerse myself in everything that makes my heart sing. The rest can go chase itself!

Oregon has become the sixth state to legalize cannabis cultivation this year! We've got to keep up the pressure and the end of prohibition is in sight!

*Grammar*

I became aware recently of a terrifying trend: the use of singular verbs with plural associates. For example:

There's lots of other discounts too.

Here apparently someone thinks lots and/or discounts are singular. This sort of sentence should always properly be:

There are lots of other discounts too.

Now there can be some difficulties. For example, the following are correct:

There IS a lot of other discounts too.

and

There IS a number of problems with it.

"A lot" and "a number" are singular; people usually think "discounts" or "problems" is the word they have to match, but not so. Other examples:

There are lots of good responses

OR

There is a lot of good responses.

There are many reasons for it.

There have not been enough responses.

The plethora of responses is what we can't handle.

A bunch of people claims responsibility.

*Perfume*

Now my lawyer tells me (I only thought to ask him the other day) that trademarks take a year to a year and a half to process. I originally filed at least three years ago! Patience I find again is at the core of this art. Meanwhile, I'm almost unpacked enough to start making perfume again. My aim will be to acquire the title Professional Perfumer tout de suite. On that note, the main perfume, the one in finalized packaging, I send in as part of my application package might in fact be the solid perfume formerly known as Soliflore now called Anthea, the Greek goddess of flowers. My mother wears this often; she was wearing it the other day and as I kept getting whiffs from across the table I was thinking, "That's one of my strongest perfume compositions." It's also far and away my simplest. I think in this case the KISS rule surely applies (Keep It Simple, Stupid).

*Top*

Top five aspects of natural botanical perfume:

5. It's a gentle and personal experience.

4. It is handmade and unique.

3. It connects you with the actual vibrations of the earth, vibrations in the form of the scents of the earth, the smells of the flowers and woods and grasses and more.

2. It's the sort of thing that, when you find one you like, you simply cannot get enough of it.

1. It's a gentle and personal experience.

*Islam*

This is an open letter from the creator of The 99, Dr Naif al-Mutawa, to his sons regarding what he hopes will be the impact of his superhero cartoon. It appeared on the BBC. The following passage is my favorite and reminds me very much of what I loved about Yann Martel's The Life of Pi:

"I told the writers of the animation that only when Jewish kids think that THE 99 characters are Jewish, and Christian kids think they're Christian, and Muslim kids think they're Muslim, and Hindu kids think they're Hindu, that I will consider my vision as having been fully executed."--Dr Naif al-Mutawa

"My Dear Sons,

Today is 2 July 2009, and if global statistics are correct, I have already lived the first half of my life. Life is short. That is why it pains me when I am away from you. Few things are as important as your future, but your future is tied to that of every other young child. I am writing with the hope that one day you will forgive me for leaving you as often as I do. Hamad, when you were born in 1997, I wrote the third book in a series that was recognised by Unesco. The series was about reconciling tradition with modernity. Those who were threatened by it banned it. I quit writing at the age of 27.

"Faisal, when you were born in 2000, I was treating survivors of political torture. I worked with disappointed children trapped in the minds of men who grew up to idolise a leader (Saddam Hussein), only to be tortured by him. I started to think very seriously about whom your heroes were going to be. Khalid, you were born in New York City, shortly after 9/11. I had already made a decision that I needed to find a way to take back Islam from its hostage takers, but I did not known how. The answer was staring me in the face. It was a simple, and as difficult, as the multiplication of 9 by 11: 99.

"So, at the age of 32, I uncapped my pen to create a concept that could be popular in the East and the West. I would go back to the very sources from which others took violent and hateful messages and offer messages of tolerance and peace in their place. I would give my heroes a Trojan horse in the form of THE 99. Islam was my Helen. I wanted her back. THE 99 references the 99 attributes of Allah--generosity, mercy, wisdom and dozens of others not used to describe Islam in the media when you were growing up. But if I am successful, by the time you read this, you will not believe that such an era could have ever existed.

"The powers of THE 99 come from the books of the great Dar al-Hikma library of Baghdad, which was sacked in 1258. The books were from all the world's cultures and religions. A secret plan leads to saving that knowledge onto 99 gemstones that are later scattered throughout the world. These stones fuel THE 99 heroes who are boys and girls from 99 countries. Rayan, you were born in January 2006 in the midst of the Danish Cartoon Controversy, which coincided with a positive review of THE 99 in the New York Times. The timing was fateful. Eighteen months earlier, 54 investors from eight countries, representing various religions, committed to invest in THE 99. Their support was humbling. That same year, THE 99 stories appeared as a comic in the Middle East, which led to its being licensed into several languages as far and wide as North Africa, France, Indonesia, South Asia, Spain and the UK.

"Rakan, by the time you were born in 2009, a lot had changed. By seeking the blessing of an Islamic Investment Bank, we were allowed into the most conservative places on the planet. Places that were resistant to THE 99 opened up their markets to them and supported our work. And THE 99 has spread like wildfire. The year 2009 also witnessed the launch of THE 99 village Theme Park in Kuwait. Seeing your brothers on rides that bear THE 99 artwork brought tears to my eyes. It has been hard work but knowing that children will learn vicariously from THE 99 to be tolerant of all who believe in doing unto others as we would have them do unto us, that, my son, makes me very proud.

"By your first birthday, the world will witness THE 99 animated series. Achieving that milestone means that we have achieved our mission of creating globally resonant characters and storylines. In so doing, THE 99 has become the first licensed entertainment property from the Islamic World. I told the writers of the animation that only when Jewish kids think that THE 99 characters are Jewish, and Christian kids think they're Christian, and Muslim kids think they're Muslim, and Hindu kids think they're Hindu, that I will consider my vision as having been fully executed.

"But my sons, perhaps the most valuable lesson that I want to pass on to you is that THE 99 is only as successful as its partnerships. Without them, we will only be as loud as the sound of one hand clapping. We are off to a good start, but this is just the beginning and I hope that my absences from your lives to spread my message continue to glean great results. So again, I apologise, but know this: Only a father's love could have created THE 99.

Baba Naif"

*Music*

There is a great saxophone player in Olympia Washington named Bert Wilson. I saw him open for Joe Lovano at the Earshot jazz festival in Seattle. I didn't know what to expect when Wilson came on stage in his wheelchair. I remember thinking, "How is this guy gonna swing?" Oh my, swing he did, and mighty hard. Moreover, as he introduced each of his tunes (he was a playing in a quintet) he described how each was inspired by a dance. !!! The power of Wilson's performance and his refusal to be defined by his wheelchair stick out in my mind to this day. He is an inspiration to me now, in my disabled state, as is Tom Harrell, and as is Dave Brubeck. Harrell is a player (one of the very best trumpeters) despite heavy medication for schizophrenia; Brubeck is a master pianist, and wizard of multiple rhythms.

Brubeck in particular. He got into some sort of accident long ago and so can't move his fingers with any sort of fine dexterity; therefore he's had to carve out his own style of piano which involves lots of block chords and not much in the way of single-note exploration. One wouldn't notice if one didn't know; one just thinks, "Oh, there's Brubeck with his inimitable style." Because of hand tremors and other obstacles I realized this: I will have to adopt a style very similar to Brubeck's if I hope to play guitar again, and lord do I! In addition, for guitar, I'd have to use the open-tuning approach of Michael Hedges. And I would likely have to switch hands. I would not plan to play a left-handed guitar (I love my old Guild too much), but would flip a right-handed guitar over as Hendrix did. I have humble aims: to combine Dave Brubeck, Michael Hedges, and Jimi Hendrix to carve out a whole new guitar style.

*Quotations*

If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second-greatest favor you can do them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first-greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they're happy.

--Dorothy Parker

The books we need are of the kind that act upon us like a misfortune, that make us suffer like the death of someone we love more than ourselves, that make us feel as though we were on the verge of suicide, or lost in a forest remote from all human habitation--a book should serve as the ax for the frozen sea within us.

--Franz Kafka

There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.

--Herman Hesse

Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.

--Philip K Dick

Are you really sure that a floor can't also be a ceiling?

--MC Escher

Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces.

--Sigmund Freud

There are no facts, only interpretations.

--Friedrich Nietzsche

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.

--Oscar Wilde

You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

--Dr Seuss

The reality of the other person lies not in what he reveals to you, but what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says, but rather to what he does not say.

--Kahlil Gibran

*War*

By Matt Frei for the BBC:

"The untimely death of a global celebrity can prove to be a distraction in the most unlikely places. I was in Pakistan last week when Michael Jackson breathed his last. And although the region described by Barack Obama as "the most dangerous on earth" has plenty to worry about, nearly every single channel on my hotel TV--from Pakistani cable news to the morning prayers on the Baluchi version of Breakfast News--featured a story about the gloved one. On one local station, most of the screen showed an imam apparently railing against the infidel invader--that would be America--while a small box in the bottom right hand corner displayed the skeletal face of one of the infidel invader's citizens pouting at the camera--that would be Michael Jackson. The young soldier guarding our guest house even tried to do a version of the moonwalk to capture the moment of history.

"Whether you are a die-hard Jackson fan from Albania beating your chest in despair, an LA groupie flocking to the rented Jackson mansion in Beverly Hills, or one of white-gloved Japanese mourners spotted by a colleague in California, the moments when just about everyone on the globe is briefly united in such fascination are extremely rare. In the searing heat of an Islamabad morning, the Jackson moment evaporated within the hour and it was back to daily life. Islamabad has always been a curious anomaly in South Asia. Slums have seemingly been banished, and villas fill the tree-lined streets. The parliament is a flat slab that reminds me of the Kennedy Centre in Washington. Islamabad is as empty as Canberra and as artificial as Brasilia. There is an old joke about these pop-up government towns: they are half the size of the Chicago cemetery and twice as dead. In Islamabad that does not apply merely to the atmosphere.

"In temperatures of 46C (115F), the pavements seem to melt. The brain is poached and even lifting a glass of cold lime juice to one's lips feels like a work-out. Torpor numbs the senses. Most of the time I felt as if I was walking on the moon rather than doing the moonwalk. But what really struck me in my few moments of lucid reflection is the fact that Islamabad has turned into a fortress city. There are roadblocks everywhere. You cannot even get close to the government quarter--it is blocked off to traffic from half a mile away. Tank barriers are strewn across once busy avenues; balls of barbed wire roll around like tumble-weed.

"At first I thought the parliament might be the sight of nuclear contamination. It was as isolated as a mini-Chernobyl. What is toxic here is of course the politics of extremism. Suicide bombers have been busy all over Pakistan, including in the once-sedate bureaucratic enclave of Islamabad. The Marriott Hotel, which I spent several weeks in after 9/11, was devastated by a truck bomb last November that left more than 50 dead and a tennis court sized crater. It has since been refurbished, reopened and reinforced. I have never seen anything like it. A 3.6m (12ft) bomb barrier surrounds the hotel. This is surrounded by another wall of grey rolls of Kevlar, the kind of stuff that goes into your flak jacket. There is a small army billeted outside, made up of dozens of burly agents with walkie-talkies.

"Cars are eased into an air-tight bomb chamber, where they are thoroughly inspected--a kind of car wash for explosives. The snouts of sniffer-dogs provide the final polish. The pedestrian entrance is a bunker with a security detail and several metal detectors. You think you are entering a nuclear facility. The only reminder that this is in fact a hotel is a small mahogany desk manned by a hotel employee with a plumed turban and a red coat, standing behind a sign that says "Concierge". The security arrangements are impressive. They seem to have worked so far. But really this is no way to live. Ultimately, the road blocks will only come down if there is a political solution to Pakistan's problems. And here I am less hopeful.

"The first problem is what they call the poverty bomb. Half the country of 165 million is illiterate. Roughly the same number of people live on $2 a day. Pakistani democracy is forever diluted by the perils of dynasty. President Zardari is the widower of former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto. Their son, still a student at Oxford, is being groomed to take over one day. Mrs Bhutto's father, the other Prime Minister Bhutto, was executed by General Zia, who was himself killed by an assassin's bomb hidden on his plane. Violent death is one of the hazards of the job of running Pakistan. Meanwhile, the country's middle class has either moved abroad or is cowering behind ever higher walls as the Taliban and their allies plot the next suicide bomb. The only institution that really functions well in Pakistan is the army--and that is not a healthy situation.

"A senior Pakistani government official put it like this over a bowl of pistachio nuts and some impossibly sweet tea: "Every week I clutch my head in despair. Yes the army is finally taking on the extremists. But where are we really heading? What is the vision of Pakistan? What is the point of our country? Are we a garrison state? A Muslim state or a state of Muslims?" If you no longer know what the point of your country is, it becomes very difficult to win any war, let alone one against an internal enemy that offers Islamic piety laced with anti-Western poison. Pakistan's real enemy these days does not sit on the other side of the country's Eastern border in India. It is the homegrown cancer of extremism, festering in the cities and fanned in the tribal areas, which is far more dangerous.

"And yet most of the army's divisions are still lingering on the Eastern front--only two reserve divisions have been deployed on the Western border with Afghanistan, where the real battle is taking place. "India is still our mortal enemy," a general told me. "They are using this as a diversion. It's a trap!" And then it struck me. Without India as its cherished enemy, Pakistan--a patchwork of diverse people, languages and geography--would have to go back to the drawing board and redefine why it actually exists. In that sense, it is a bit like the eerily morphing body of the late Michael Jackson: puzzling beyond recognition."

Peace, love, and ATOM jazz