…So, uh. Remember blogs?

I kind of forgot this one again for a while.

Anyway, there’s been talk lately about “self-defense” and whether, and when, one has a right to it, and it had me thinking of a purely hypothetical thought experiment. (Hypotheticals and thought experiments are, of course, always imperfect and not necessarily 100% applicable to any real-world situations that might seem similar.)

Suppose you see me walking down the street, and you throw a rock at me. (Maybe you recognize me as the guy who got you kicked out of your family home due to some small paperwork error your great-grandfather made and no one noticed until last year, so now you and your family live in a cramped apartment in a shitty building.)

From here, there are a few possible outcomes.

If I do nothing, and the rock hits me, it will probably hurt, and might leave a bruise. If it’s a big enough rock, and/or you throw it hard enough, it might even break a bone or give me a concussion. In this scenario, I clearly have not defended myself.

A second possibility is that I see the rock coming, and can dodge it, or raise my briefcase up to shield myself, and so while I may be startled or surprised, and may not even recognize you as the victim of a real estate transaction that was mostly just abstract to me, I have not been physically harmed. Clearly here, even if this is the end of the encounter, I have defended myself.

Third, perhaps I avoid the rock or perhaps it hits me, but either way I see that you threw it, and I pursue you and whack you in the head with my briefcase, maybe even hard enough to knock you down. I probably yell some choice words, too; but having struck back — and having hurt you more-or-less as badly as your rock was likely to hurt me — I leave it at that if you do. This is probably a little less clear-cut, in that I arguably attacked you back rather than (or in addition to) simply defending myself, but I think most people who didn’t know about the real estate swindle would regard the harms as proportional and my actions as more-or-less justifiable. They might say “well, he probably shouldn’t have, but I get it.”

Fourth, suppose I don’t just hit you back once, but I knock you down, then strike you repeatedly with my briefcase and kick you while you’re on the ground, until you stop resisting or trying to escape, or until I exhaust myself. (If this is the real-life me, it does not take me long to exhaust myself, but let’s suppose for the sake of the hypothetical that I have more stamina.) In this scenario I have probably hurt you much worse than your rock could have hurt me. I may have rendered you unconscious, broken several ribs, concussed you, possibly harmed your eyes or broken your teeth, etc.; it’s far from out of the question that I’d have caused potentially life-threatening injuries. It’s very possible to outright kill someone by kicking them while they’re down. This is again not necessarily entirely clear-cut, I’m sure there are some people who’d argue that my disproportionate violence is useful in order to deter future attacks (memo to those people: we live in a society, actually). But I think that most disinterested observers would agree that my actions went well beyond reasonable self-defense, and ultimately I’m the one in the wrong.

Finally, maybe after I bat the rock away with my briefcase, I press a switch on the handle, which causes the shell of it to drop away and reveal a submachine gun, like in gangster movies, and I spray the street with bullets indiscriminately, wounding and killing a dozen people, probably including you. And then, because I did recognize you after all and I know that the rickety tenement building just down the block is where you and your family moved to, I use the built-in launcher on the gun to fire a high-explosive grenade that critically damages the structure and causes the entire apartment building to collapse, killing and maiming dozens more people who weren’t even aware anything was happening.

That last one really doesn’t seem like “self-defense” anymore, now does it?

I miss my bar, Pt. II: A year of this

It’s the Ides of March (by the way, check out Dessa’s Ides project — a new single each 15th, for the first six months of the year — so far “Rome”, “Bombs Away”, and today’s drop, “Life on Land”) and the weekend was full of musings about the anniversary of the pandemic “becoming real” for most Americans. Here’s mine.

A year ago this just-past Saturday was Friday, March 13th, 2020. That was the last time I sat and drank a beer at a bar, chatting with the bartenders and fellow patrons, a weekly social activity I feel the lack of very keenly; over the summer I did occasionally go back to have a pint at the outdoor tables one of my regular spots set up, but it’s not the same. I haven’t been to my other regular joint at all, save to pick up a to-go Easter dinner last year.

A year ago Sunday, on Saturday, March 14th, 2020, was the last time I had a professional haircut. I bought some cheap electric clippers and with my partner’s assistance have been able to manage an adequate job, especially since hardly anyone sees me without a bulky headset on anymore, anyway.

Daylight Saving Time also just kicked in over the weekend, so I’m in that awkward period of adjusting to the missing hour. (My Senator is trying to do something about that, at least.) I’ll spend the rest of my life, I guess, adjusting to this missing year, and I know I’m one of the luckiest ones — I’m only missing the year, not my health, not any loved ones. I have friends who did get COVID, and who are still unsure whether or how badly or how permanently they’ll have any of the long-term symptoms that seem commonly associated with the disease, but all of them survived it. Over half a million in the US (well over, as the official tallies are known to be drastic undercounts) did not, mainly because of the actions of the federal and state governments over the course of 2020.

How, as a society, do we recover from something like this? “Carefully,” as the dad-joke goes, I suppose, but we won’t even fully understand all the harms we’ve suffered for years, if ever. Trauma can settle, like varicella zoster in the nerves of the spine, where we don’t really notice it, and produce unexpected effects long after the event.

I’m not going anywhere with this, I don’t have a conclusion, other than “things didn’t have to be this way,” but that’s true of everything. It just seemed worthwhile to mark the anniversary of my Last Normal Day.

[Update: I failed to link to Emily Hauser’s vital pieces, from October and from February, which get at this issue far better than I can. They say the worst thing a movie can do is remind you of a better movie you could be watching instead, and Emily’s a better writer than I am, but I didn’t link to her until the end of the post, so you had to read my thing anyway. So there!]

Happy New Year

Well, it’s 2021. 2020 was pretty bad! it’s gonna take a lot of work to make 2021 good, but maybe we’ll all manage it together.

One positive change I’m making is that I’ve quit Twitter. I don’t currently plan to delete my account — it’s useful to have posts here automatically linked over there, and there are a lot of people there I’d hate to lose touch with, so if the account stays accessible they can at least find out why I’m not tweeting anymore — but a couple of weeks ago Twitter notified me that it was my tenth anniversary on the site and asked if I wouldn’t like to make a commemorative tweet with a special “10” graphic they’d prepared, and I thought, well, ten years is definitely too long to be here.

I have more thoughts about the ways in which “social media” as it currently exists, and Twitter in particular (I quit Facebook about ten years ago, so I don’t have any first-hand knowledge of its current state), is bad for us as individual people and as a society, and why, and what might be better; and maybe at some point I’ll organize those into a post here. I want to work on, and write about, more software projects first, though, so look for more on that soon.

Anyway although time is largely fake, there’s something nice about choosing to mark the new year a few weeks after the solstice — it’s about when we start to actually notice that the days are getting longer. It’s been a few months of it getting darker and colder, and it will stay cold, and even get a little colder yet, for another couple, but we can see it’s starting to get a little lighter, and we know it’ll get warm again, we just have to get through the hard depths of winter.

A metaphor, if you like. Happy new year, wear a mask, don’t go to restaurants or weddings or bars or generally spend time indoors with or near people you don’t live with, get the COVID vaccine as soon as you can, don’t vote for Republicans, tip servers and delivery people extra, do what you can to help other people.

Remember blogs?

Blogs were these things we used to have, and the internet was better then. Correlation isn’t causation, but still, one has to wonder.

Blogs were these things we used to have, and the internet was better then. Correlation isn’t causation, but still, one has to wonder. I had a blog once, and sometimes some of my posts were very mildly popular. I helped moderate a much bigger blog, and I participated at some other blog communities. All of that kind of withered, or maybe I just fell away from it, as social media became the dominant mode of internet interaction. But what if it didn’t have to be? What if: blogs, again?

Anyway, I guess it’s worth a shot. I need something more productive to do with my time than constantly being mad because I saw a bad take on Twitter — Twitter is nothing if not an endless source of all the bad takes you could ever get mad about, and then some — and it’s hard to look at the IndieWeb movement and not think, “you know, they might be onto something there.” Individuals controlling their own space and experience on the web, using open protocols and prioritizing accessibility and interoperability over the interests of a for-profit corporation that controls a massive platform? Sounds all right.

I’ve been saying for years that Twitter’s bad for me, and I don’t think I’ll be there too much longer, now. Let’s try blogs again.