So I had this crazy dream about the WEFs last night. The setting: a 5 star hotel, naturally. The plot: you all had discovered a partial form of time-travel, where you could have multiple copies of yourselves running around doing more things during the day than you ought to. I met two WEF2 that liked one another quite a bit, I must say, and it was very shocking. Then WEF5 showed me a collection of tattoos - “72″ was the exact count, I believe. WEF4 had outdone everyone, having gone back about a trizzilion times. WEF1, if I remember correctly, told me that it was a happy serene kind of afterlife. Through this weird form of time travel, you couldn’t really go back into the past, but you had all the time in the world … today.
Highly entertaining, because the instructions for how to time-travel were really simple, and posted on the blog. Maybe its still on here somewhere?
OK WEFers. I need the arrival date and time from all of you, including those who tickets I booked. Please recall that when I booked, I gave them your email addresses for confirmation. I have nothing to reference your tickets. I cannot pick you up if I do not know when. Also, since all tickets are electronic (except JPs), tell me the date and time of departure as well. I am not going to drive to the interent cafe because you do not know when you are leaving and need to check.
I do not want to badger anyone, so please give this to me no later than Tuesday night — or I cannot and will not commit to picking you up.
WEF2 is a bit annoyed that WEF2 has emailed severl WEFers with this request and others related to Turkey and has received no response.
This si the vacation for WEF1 and2 and you are all tag alongs — very welcome tag alongs indeed, but not the princpals on this trip. I will be meailing instructions to the house in the event you might need to get their under your own steam. Oh, you cannot use credit cards, the trip by bus/taxi is $100, and rooms in Bodrum start at $180 unless you can get into the hostel.
For the first time in my life I am worried that my work will be graded not on merit but upon ideology.
It has always been the case - going back as far as middle school when my teachers told me I couldn’t do a report on Rush Limbaugh because he was an “evil man” - that my professors have disagreed with most of my opinions. However, I was always confident that if I argued logically my grade would reflect the logic of my argument and not the perceived “rightness” of my conclusions. I am no longer sure that this is the case at LSE.
As I became more interested in economics the age old questions of whether markets or governments are better at allocating resources began to rear its head again and again. Most of my professors see the usefulness of markets but think that the best way to deal with market failure is via government regulation. My professors at LSE are a more anti-market than my previous professors. My latest review session scared the living bejesus out of me.
Question: International Financial Regulation cannot address problem of systemic instability; the response can only be found at the level of markets and governments. Discuss.
My professor’s tactic was to look at each bit (intl/mkt/dom govt) - which is what I would have done - but his analysis of international financial regulation did not include the main argument/piece that I would have concentrated on. When I brought it up he said the piece was little more than a red harring. It was all about state capture of the cooperative process that led to inefficent and relatively useless cooperative arrangements in financial regulation, using US capture of the Basel One Accord as an example (which is the pivotal current example of interantional financial regualtion, since Basel Two hasn’t been fully implemented yet). To me this is very much the reason why international financial regulation cannot address systemic problems. Of course, it doesn’t apply if you are arguing that it can. Which is apparently the only answer. When he got to the point of the benefits of markets he didn’t really take it seriously - oh well, you know they’re supposedly “smarter” and “faster” … you know … didn’t even include a critique. Then when he got to government regulations suddenly it was acceptable to start talking about capture by special interests (which is really just the same as state capture of international cooperation only on the domestic level).
The main point here is that the government solutions (whether domestic or international) were assumed to be proper and then looked at critically in order to see their shortcomings. In analyzing the market solution, he didn’t even take it seriously enough to critique it! Instead just listing “supposed” market benefits, assuming that the critiques were so obvious and unfixable as to be unmentionable. (I was laughing in horror by this point, btw, and getting very strange looks from my classmates who couldn’t figure out what was so funny.)
Perhaps even more humorously (in a horrific kind of way) this view of markets and governments not unique to the professor. One of my classmates asked increduously, “but who would argue such a thing?” In regard to the statement in the question - that international cooperation wouldn’t work. This prompted my prof to send us an email with an article from a market fundamentalist so that we could see that the mythical creature really existed.
Anyway, in my fear I sent my professor the outline I had put together. This is my conclusion:
Markets exist within an institutional and regulatory framework and as such it is difficult to decipher how self-regulating they might be if left alone. It is clear, however, that government and international efforts at regulation have often had an undesirable impact. Capitalism exists in booms and busts due to the intersubjective nature of investment (Keynes). Until government and international regulations and institutions have been perfected to a higher degree, they tend to serve as a blanket placed over finance which allows disequilibria to go unnoticed for too long, ensuring that the eventual bust will be more destructive.
He said that he couldn’t look over the outline as he had already declined other people but that upon first glance “I’d say the conclusion overlooks the history of financial bubbles and crashes that goes back a few millennia, long before the emergence of financial regulatory institutions/law, central banks, etc).”
Of course he is right. I didn’t mention that in my essay; though I believe I did allude to the fact that bubbles would exist anyway and it was only their severity that was affected by regulation. I do know about, say the Tulip Crisis Bubble in history and I could have debated over it; I just didn’t because of time constraints. Which is going to be the case in any essay I write in fifty minutes - there will be valid counter-arguments that I haven’t addressed. But I fear that if the valid counter-arguments are “conventional liberal wisdom” then my essay will not score well whereas if my essay subscribes to the “conventional liberal wisdom” then counter-arguments from those loonies on the right will be promptly disregarded leaving me with a good grade.
The really annoying thing is that I quite like my professor. He’s a good guy and he’s put up with many of my questions and my moreorless neurtoic pre-exam self. I feel like I can’t really blame him for this situation, but I think I can safely say that I’ve now seen for myself how academia can be discriminating ideologically without actually meaning to be.
The four men and three women opened their eyes. They sat in metal chairs built into a circular wall, facing one another. Above them was a low dome with a small circular window in the center. Through the window, fire burned. Lining the circular wall, above their heads, were more small circular windows. In each window, fire burned - bright yellows, deep oranges, and blasts of reds - a furnace of flame-filled wind, extending to infinity. But the small room was silent. The seven looked at one another, blinking, not saying anything, not moving. One section of the wall lacked a chair, and instead held a door frame with a wheel attached to the middle.
A tall young man, somewhat skinny but attractive, jerked to his feet and stared at the others.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
He looked out a window, then rapped his knuckles on it, then held his palm on it.
“It’s cold,” he said.
An middle-aged woman sitting next to him got up and felt the window, letting her slender fingers linger on the glass.. She nodded, looking back toward the others, beaming with a beautiful face.
“I can’t remember anything,” an old man said softly from across the room, smiling, his large body rolling with fat as he crossed his legs. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know who I am. But there is one thing I do know.”
“What’s that?” a low and dull voice asked, coming from a large man who sat scowling next to him.
“We’re in trouble,” the man replied, his old voice cracking with a half-chuckle.
The large man nodded, his scowl softening into a smile. “I know who you are,” he said.
The old man’s thick eyebrows rose.
The large man stood up, looking out the window. “You’re an idiot.”
The old man blew air out his lips in a half-laugh and got up to look out the same window. They stared as the wind blew flame up and down, bright red and oranges and yellows swirling and fighting against one another.
The one man and two women who remained sitting stared at one another. They hadn’t moved a muscle, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even blinked.
The man who sat next to the door was well built, middle-aged, with a mature face and deep-set eyes. His eyes took in the entire room, slowly but thoroughly examining everybody and everything.
The plain looking young woman sitting across from him sat straight in her chair. She was atheletic and muscled with short hair. She looked at the woman sitting next to her, a heavy-set woman with large eyes that were half-closed in thought. The plain woman looked back at the quiet man sitting next to the door.
“What do you think?” she asked.
The man blinked. His eyes narrowed imperctibly. “I think,” he said, his voice certain, “that the old man is right.”
“We’re in trouble,” she agreed.
The big-eyed woman sitting said something too soft to hear.
“What?” the other woman asked.
The big-eyed woman cocked her head and furrowed her brows. “Yes”, she pronounced clearly and loudly. The others at the windows looked back at the big woman, who quickly looked away.
The thin young man stepped back from the window and looked up at the dome’s opening. He tried jumping to touch the top, but missed. The others turned to look at him, and all but the large man sat down as he continued to jump. The attractive woman stared at the young man with a smile, while the large man’s scowl deepened.
The young man shook his head, smiling as he noticed the others staring at him.
“Someone want to give me a hand?” he asked.
The large man rolled his eyes, and sat down in a heap. “Sit down, kid,” he said. “Before you break yourself.”
The young man’s attractive face tried to frown, but failed. He sat down.
The large man sat forward, putting his hands on his knees. His hands seemed too big for his arms, and his legs seemed too big for his body. His face itself seemed out of proportion - large nose, small eyes, ears that didn’t match, and a small mouth full of big teeth. His thick eyebrows not only met in the middle, but traveled somewhat down his lumpy nose. His voice came out loud and grating. “Does anybody know where the hell we are?”
The man sitting next to the door sat forward, looking from one face to another. “No,” he said, his voice low but penetrating.
“Does anybody know who the hell we are?” the large man continued.
“Do you always ask stupid questions?” the plain woman asked, crossing her toned arms.
The large man opened his small mouth to say something, but the woman interrupted in a long stream of words. “None of us knows anything, not who we are, not where we are, not why we got here or how we’re going to get out. That answer your question?”
The large man’s open mouth closed with a snap, and his head nodded slightly as he looked at the floor, folding his hands and sitting back, his eyes narrowing.
The attractive woman who sat next to the door spoke up with a gentle voice, a tone of lightnesss combined with cheerfulness. “It’s not that bad. We’re alive, aren’t we? And we’re protected from the fire, which as it turns out . . . ”
“Hold on,” the older man said, his hand going to his fat smiling face. “What makes you think we’re protected from the fire? For all we know it’s burning through that door right now.”
The others noticed the door for what seemed like the first time, surprise crossing most of their faces.
“We should open it,” the skinny man said.
“We shouldn’t open it,” the old man replied.
“Why not?” the large man next to him asked.
“Because we don’t know anything yet,” the old man explained slowly.
“We know that there’s fire outside,” the attractive woman offered.
“Okay, yes,” the old man agreed, “We do know that, but . . . ”
“All of our eyes are the same color,” the big-eyed woman interrupted, her soft voice barely audible.
The others stared at one another in silence. They all had bright golden eyes.
“Our clothes are made out of the same material,” the big-eyed woman continued. They all wore plain white shirts and pants that lacked pockets and seams, but seemed sturdy and soft.
“And we are all gray,” the woman concluded.
The others looked at their hands, looked at one another’s faces and hair. The light from the fire had bathed them in colored light, but in fact, their skin and hair were all gray.
“We’re not supposed to be gray, are we?” the beautiful woman asked. The young man sitting next to her shook his head.
The man sitting next to the door looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something when a large boom reverberated from above them, shaking the room and their seats. Something above them slid and scratched across the roof, and fell down and flashed past the window next to the plain woman. She jump up, looking out. Just as quickly the window darkened. She took a sudden step back, bringing her hands up into fists. The others stood, their voices filling the small room. A shriek pulsed through the window.
A face on fire burned and screamed at the window, battering at it with metallic stumps of hands. Pieces of face were burning off, revealing a web of metal wires and pusling colors underneath. Just as fast as skin burned off, more skin grew back in its place. Out of the half-mouth came a sound half-human half-machine, and all fury.
-
The message seemed to come from a distant galaxy, old, repetitive, mathematical, containing schemata for synthetic bodies and minds. We made the gray mech-flesh, and they uploaded themselves, animating the mech-flesh. They were the Gray Eyes, and they loved us. They were universal liberators, living from civilization to civilization, galaxy to galaxy, saving all from all. The last of us discarded our human flesh for mech-flesh over one thousand years ago, joining them in building new worlds underneath our dying cities and dead world. We would create a new Eden, living forever with the Gray Eyes, who loved us to the end.
Giant gray monuments floating in lakes of fire with golden eyed saviors riding up into darkness of a world desolate with blue thunder mists pointing to way back to the last human makers if they exist at all, and they must.
Hell on Earth
(Episode 1 - Family First)
The figure disappeared and began scraping itself against the wall as it moved toward the other end of the room, toward the door. They backed away from the windows as it flashed by each one.
The quiet man grabbed the wheel on the door and set his feet into a solid stance. “Help me.”
“What are you doing?” the large man said, lumbering to his side.
A blast of flame and wind exploded behind the door for a moment, then silenced. The noise of heavy gasps came through the metal. The wheel started to turn. The large man grabbed it, stopping it with the quiet man.
“Got it?” the athletic woman asked, putting an arm on the quiet man’s shoulder.
“Yeah. He’s not trying hard anymore.”
“He’s not a he,” she said. “It just looks like a man but is nothing but wires and metal and some strange kind of skin that grows just as fast as it burns.”
“Listen,” the heavy woman interrupted, still sitting.
From behind the door, a single word was being repeated over and over.
“What’s he saying?” the middle-aged woman asked, drawing close to the door.
“It,” the old man corrected.
“He’s saying ‘it’?” she asked.
The young man pushed toward the door and put his ear to it. He closed his eyes.
“He’s saying,” the man said, pulling himself back just as suddenly. He looked at the two men holding the wheel. “He’s saying ‘help’.”
“No,” the large man replied. “Hell no.”
“Let’s do it,” the young man said.
“No,” the large man repeated. “I’m not letting go.”
“Why not?”
The large man shook his head and looked away, getting a better grip on the wheel. Sounds of fire and wind exploded behind the door again, then silence. Scrapes were heard again, and then nothing.
The slender woman went to the window, and pointed. “He’s fallen,” she said.
The quiet man walked over to the window, taking his time, his eyes staring at the others. He looked at the woman, then looked out. Chunks of flesh were being blown and burned off the figure as skin grew and regrew. The metal and wires underneath the flesh didn’t seem to be affected, but pulsed with lights and colors.
“What is he?” the woman asked.
The quiet man shook his head. He took a step back. “What are we?”
Silence.
“I’m going,” he said, moving to the door. The large man looked at him and stepped away.
“I’m going with you,” the young man said.
The quiet man turned the wheel, which rotated easily. Something clicked from behind the door, and it swung open, revealing a small chamber that had another door with a wheel on it. They stepped in.
“Are you crazy?” the athletic woman asked.
The old man hushed her. “Think it through,” he said as they closed the door. “You’ll get it.”
She glared at him, then went to the window. The outer chamber opened, sending shocks through the room, then closed and went silent again. The quiet man and the young man entered into her view, bending low to the ground, almost crawling. Their clothes had burned off, and their skin had charred black and bubbled. A gust of fire hit them, and threw them to the ground.
The attractive woman gasped and stepped back, looking at her own hands, and sat down.
“What?” the large man asked, straining to see through his window.
The two men had gotten to their knees, but parts of their body had been burned away. Underneath something shone bright silver. Their skin regrew quickly, covering the silver. The gust had died down, and they stumbled to the figure, and began dragging him back to the chamber.
The athletic woman looked at the large man. “Are you grinding your teeth?” she asked. He grinned and went to the door. When the men outside had arrived, he flung the wheel spinning and opened the door. They nearly ran into the room smoking and smelling, coughing and wheezing. The young man was cursing as he dragged the body into the room, and collapsed into a chair. The quiet man put his hand to the wall next to him, and took forced breaths. Both of them had gaps in their body that revealed silver metal underneath. The gaps were quickly closing with new skin and new clothes.
The others circled the body on the ground. Its skin and clothes were regrowing too, but slowly, and underneath was not silver metal, but intricate lights and wires and structures, some moving in what appeared to be gears and pistons - a vast and minituare machine, covered with skin. His clothes were not white, but black, and his skin was colored dark tan. His eyes were closed. They stood staring at him in silence as his body reformed.
I’ve been reading Saint Aquinas lately, and have been somewhat awestruck by his account of good and evil. He explicitly relates “good” to what is good for the human person, and “evil” to whatever is evil for the human person. Morality and happiness are equivalent - one acts “good” when one does what is good for oneself, while one acts “evil” when one does what is destructive to oneself. So that’s interesting, making sure that morality isn’t some disconnected law given from above that has nothing to do with us. Instead, morality is the “good life”, where we do what will bring our human nature to perfection.
Now, within this rather unstartling idea, I found a concept that I think is truly brilliant. It’s the idea of synderesis, which is basically the idea that everything that we do - whether good or evil - always contains an intention for a good. Everything that one does is done out of a will for some kind of good, or apparent good. Alternate explanation:
a person does anything and everything he or she does only because that thing at least “appears” to be good. Even when I choose something that I know is bad for myself, I nevertheless chooses it under some aspect of good, i.e. as some kind of good. I know the cake is fattening, for example, and I don’t choose to eat it as fattening. I do, however, choose to eat it as tasty (which is an apparent, though not a true, good).
So every human action is done for an apparent good. The fascinating part about this is Aquinas’ explanation of what sin is then. Sin, then, is choosing a lesser good over a greater good - the taste of the cake instead of the health of your body. Therefore, sin is simply a “privation” or loss of a greater good. That means that even in the greatest sin, one can find an inclination toward goodness. Hitler’s genocidal plans had some sort of “apparent” good in mind - a “better” world.
So why would anyone be held guilty for anything, if we all were just trying to pursue “the good” life? I think, when we choose the tasty cake over the health of our body, knowingly and willingly, understanding that the taste isn’t as good as the body that tastes it, we willingly and knowingly choose a privation. Why would we do that to ourselves?
First I would like to say that the last THREE posts have been mine… and most of the ones before that were about internal affairs… and WEF6 post was done by her friend! This is entirely unacceptbale WEFers! I check this blog EVERY DAY and EVERY DAY I expect to see something new and exciting erupting in a WEF-fashion thoroughout the WEF community! SO GET ON IT!!!
That said I have decided to do my thesis on the Iraqi Swiss Denar. A currency that was not affiliated with the Iraqi government after the Gulf War but was still used in Kurdish region - allowing the people to escape the inflationary disaster that was the Saddam Dinar. Given this, and that my WEF people are in Iraq - I thought I should ask what you all think about it?
Also, WEF1 and WEF2 - do you reckon it will be easy to get data on this or is it going to be impossible? How feasible do you think this topic is?
So. A friend of mine took the following test to gage her level of racism and social awareness or something of the sort. While I do not think highly of the test I did think that it was an interesting starting point for some fun WEF-talk!
Fun Fact: Paulo Serodio claims that it was his assertion that he was african american that got him suspended from med school. (He is a white immigrant from Zimbabwe.)
It’s difficult to take that test and try to only think about black people as black Americans, who are native to America. Or to choose between thinking of your black friends from college/your neighborhood bar versus the drug dealers who live next door and invariably bring crime to the neighborhood.
And I imagine it would be the same for the grouping of white people in a differently oriented test - your friends from college or some of the kids you knew when you were younger who didn’t fare as well.
And depending upon who you have in mind, clearly, the answers are entirely different.
Which should, I think, be the point of any such test. Do you think of people as people or as some stereotype based upon a biased grouping system that uses arbitrary categorization like race (or religion or whatever else…)
Perhaps a better test would include other stereotypes as well so as it better illuminate the underlying issue.
I know the test is only meant to make you think about such things - it only has 50 questions and most of them are as obvious as do you think one race is superior - but I must say I was still a bit disappointed at the lack of nuances for such an important issue.
I wouldn’t take your rating too seriously one way or the other.
OK all you WEFers. WEF 1 has still not committed on a date into Bodrum. WEF2 asked that WEF1 arrive by August 10 to handle driving reponsibilities. WEF2 still has no ticket — impossible from Amman or Kuwait so will explore Erbil after returning to Baghdad. WEF3 has ticket, WEF4 has ticket, WEF5 is not coming, WEF6 has a ticket, WEF7 has no ticket and is not communicating.
WEF2 has relinquished the reins to WEF1 with a request to arrive around Aug 10 from either Frankfurt or London (since Amman and Kuwait are a nightmare). WEF2 will find a way in and will be there from August 10 to abour the 28th (whatever that Saturday is closest to that date). Blood family of WEF2 is arriving around the 22nd and will stay until WEF2 leaves . . .
I have purchased my ticket. It was more expensive than I thought it would be. I decided that instead of okaying it first, since the price appeared to have increased in ONE WEEK, I would just grab it and bite the bullet if need be.
I arrive in at Bodrum airport at 1600 hours on August the 14th. Who’s gonna come get me?
“Human dignity requires man to act through conscious and free choice, as motivated and prompted personally from within, and not through blind internal impulse or merely external pressure. Man achieves such dignity when he frees himself from all subservience to his feelings, and in a free choice of the good, pursues his own end by effectively and assiduously marshalling the appropriate means.”
By “marshalling the appropriate means”, I believe this means inciting our feelings to support our free choice. The military calls this false motivation. I call it smart.
I’m sure you’ll all be ecstatic to know that the tickets are bought and paid for. This is QUITE a weight off my shoulders, as I’ve been spending 3+ hours per day attempting to find and claim good tickets. Below is my pretty, pretty schedule:
ABQ-TUS
MAY 22ND 7:15 pm-7:15 pm
AUG 27TH 7:05 am-9:05 am
TUS-EDI
JUNE 13TH 6:12 AM-8:20 AM JUNE 14TH
AUG 26TH 9:10 AM–8:30 PM
EDI-LOND
AUG 10TH- 20:30-21:55
AUG 25TH 21:00-22:20
LON-BODRUM
AUG 11TH 6:55–16:00
AUG 25TH 10:20–15:15 In other words, dear WEF7, I’m arriving on June 14th.
I just got out of a french class on Tocqueville. The tutor was absent, so only about 7 people showed up to class. This class was very, very odd.
We were discussing a portion of the text that related to the equality of the sexes in America. The other two girls in classes were completely onboard with what Tocqueville was saying, as were the rest of the class: A family needs to have a leader, the natural leader of a family is a man, women in America during this time embraced their role’s (unless they were hoydens), American men saw their women as separate but equal to them, and European men, though they flattered their women, actually did not see them as equals.
I brought up that I thought Tocqueville’s argument for the above was questionable. I brought forth two or three facts he had presented as being supportive of his argument and suggested that they weren’t in fact supportive of anything, but could be used to support any bias one happened to have. For example, Tocqueville said that since American men did not talk crudely in front of women that meant that they respected and honored them as equals if not superiors in terms of morality. American men didn’t talk crudely in front of children either, but that doesn’t mean they necessarily respected or honored them as equals/superiors. An alternative viewpoint could be that by cleaning up your speech you’re attempting not to deface innocence, which can be interpreted as respecting/honoring the innocence of women but would be difficult to interpret as respecting and honoring them as equals. I’m not suggesting either interpretation is right or wrong, or even that I personally have an opinion on which one has more validity, but merely pointing out that this particular fact is open to interpretation and is not actually inherently supportive of Tocqueville’s position. In the same vein, I referenced two other incidents he put forth as evidence.
The response, you ask? Another girl in class asked me if perhaps I just couldn’t accept this reading because I couldn’t imagine this family situation involving equality. A boy mentioned it was very difficult to read without bias a work involving our own culture. It was basically put forth by the class that I must be biased or close-minded. I pointed out that I had referenced quite a few quotations Tocqueville used as evidence and had shown how they were open to interpretation; no one had argued against my point that his evidence was open to interpretation. In fact, one boy agreed with me…but didn’t talk much. I also pointed out that the culture Tocqueville was discussing wasn’t American culture of today, our culture, so our biases shouldn’t be particularly firm on the matter. The discussion moved on to how our culture had changed from Tocqueville’s time, assuming his interpretation of American culture was correct.
It was very annoying. When we had in previous classes discussed Tocqueville’s argument for why democracy is ordained by God, many of us thought his argument was poor. I personally found his evidence convincing, as it was primarily based on historical facts. Yet, though the class had no problem discussing the legitimacy of Tocqueville’s argument for democracy being ordained by God, it seemed that I couldn’t probe his argument for the equality of the sexes within America without being accused (subtly, yes, but accused just the same) of being unable to even grasp the possibility of his point being true and being so badly biased as to be made illogical.
OK WEFers, we need to discuss Turkey this summer and address some potential issues. WEF2 found herself thinking about canceling Turkey for everyone except WEF1 and 2 and realized this was not fair. As we all know, last year was not an unqualified success. So, this year we need to address the qualifiers that rendered last year less than a success.
First of all, WEF2 will not be the only driver. So, we need to sort out who can get a driver’s license. The Turkish police have this pesky habit of stopping drivers for no reason at all. Actually, they do have a reason. They are checking papers and these papers include the driver’s license of the driver. I guess we could offer the nice policeman (not many police women out there) a bribe but I think Turkish jails are probably no fun. Some of us are old enough to remember a movie with the word “Express” in it that portrayed Turkish jails as quite nasty places to sleep. I prefer to sleep at the house myself. So . . .
Second, WEF2 will not be the only food shopper and cook. The little store and fish store that I found in the village are walking distance from the house. I think it’s reasonable that two people a day are assigned duties as food shoppers, dinner cooks, and kitchen clean uppers after dinner. There is a dishwasher, so those who have this fear of getting their hands wet to wash the dishes need have no fear in Turkey.
Third, WEF2 is not a maid. We have washer and this is a luxury in Turkey. But, it is not a luxury if WEF2 is runnning two loads a day (it is small), and then dragging wet laundry to the roof to dry, then folding it, and then returning it to its righful (perhaps wrongful) owner. Also, laundry is not based on who made what dirty. If there are 9 towels to wash, they need to be washed. I don’t care if one person made them dirty. So, laundry duty will be two persons other than those doing KP duty.
Fourth, WEF2 cannot be everything for everyone. WEF2 cannot solve the WEF’s collective or individual problems when WEF2 is n vacation. (Example: How do I get a UK student visa in 24 hours when I am not in the US?). Remember, there is no internet at the house. This leads me to . . .
Fifth, WEF2 will not be the medium for communication while in Turkey. There is no internet at the house. There is no TV at the house. WQEF2 has an international phone. I pay my phone bill. Last year, our Turkey adventure ran over $900 in phone calls in 21 days . . . on WEF2’s phone. If you need a phone in Turkey, make sure your own mobile has international service. WEF2’s phone is off limits. The closest internet is 9 miles away. Refer to point one above, WEF2 cannot be the only driver. If you need internet, you will need to figure out how to take a bus and be willing to take a bus.
Sixth, WEF2 is the master of the television and DVD. WEF2 gets to watch what WEF2 wants when WEF2 wants. That about sums it up.
Seventh, WEF2 is happy in Turkey and everyone else will be happy in Turkey.
Lastly, the only permissible response when WEF2 asks anyone to do something is, “Yes, WEF2, that’s great. I’ll do that right away.” (Example: You need to sleep in Room A because I need your room for someone else. Response: “Yes, WEF2, that’s great.”) The only permissible response to WEF2 telling you “No” is “That’s OK WEF2″ coupled with a genuine smile. (Example: WEF2 telling you “No” you cannot stay in your room or “No” she will drive you to town, or “No” you cannot get out of KP duty; Response: That’s OK WEF2, coupled with a genuine smile).
Assuming everyone agrees to the above terms (subject to additional terms), WEF2 agrees to everyone spending time at the house this summer. To add an incentive to adhering to these rules, WEF2 is paying only for 50% of each ticket to Bodrum. (Exceptions have been made for WEF3, WEF3.0 and 3.1. An exception will be considered for WEF5 if WEF5 so reqeusts. The reasons for these exceptions should be obvious to all.) If you complete the vacation according to the terms set forth above, WEF2 will reimburse you the other 50% of the fare. By the way, this also provides you incentives to find cheap tickets and book your tickets in a timely fashion — something that did not seem to happen last year.
So, you ask, what are the dates,? WEF2 will be in Turkey from August 10th to the 27th. WEF1 does not know the dates he will be there and I do not know when he will set his dates. You are all welcome to stay while WEF2 is there and/or any other dates. Assuming there is another driver, we can pick up at the Bodrum airport any date starting the 11th, and drop off any date before or on the 27th.
WEF2 looks forward to a great vacation in Turkey with the entire expeditionary force. Please RSVP and provide your flight information as soon as possible so WEF2 can deposit half the fare into each of your bank accounts.
I, WEF 4, am avoiding the traumatic dullness of my never-ending study routine to update the HomeBase on the pedantic happenings of my life:
1) THE STUDYING: I dream about banking regulations, the feasibility and desirability of orthodox vs. modern currency boards and international coordination attempts that were nullified by mercantilist domestic interests. My daydreams have not yet turned from natural or violent disasters to financial disasters but I fear this is the next step. I have created a montage on my wall. Seeing as my room is not particularly big there is very little space left. I have charted out the important dates - in black - and their corresponding theoretical possibilities - in red and black - for the pre-1914 era, the inter-war period, the Bretton Wood System’s rise and demise as well as the post 1973 era - though this one continues to expand. (The ‘era’ labels are outlined in green with red diagonal lines inside, that switch direction on each letter.) I think it is going well.
2) MY VACATION: I went to Ireland. For a week. Yes. If you have not seen my photographs of awesomeness I suggest you log on to facebook immediately. The photo album is called The Martian Forest of Kelp. This is due to the fact that 30 metres under the Irish sea resembles Mars. Kelp floats freely from the ground which is clearly indicative of a lesser gravitational pull. Little fish roam this way and that, often swayed by the movements in the water. They don’t mind. They are Martian fish. Martian fish like that. The starfish do not sway. They stay put. This reflects their Martian preference. Much like Earth-side creatures Martian creatures have divergent interests and preferences that manifest themselves in various ways. This may be where the similarities stop. I am thinking about moving to Mars. If I don’t get into a PhD program. Yes.
3) MY PLANS:
As all WEFers know:
The plans of a WEF cannot be counted upon. They cannot be judged with a mind of stability or forgotten as whimsical fantasies. The plans of a WEF are unpredictable. The plans of a WEF are unique. A WEF may plan something one day. Forget the plan. Have the plan grow like a kernel of truth in their subconscious mind. Then suddenly, unexpectedly carry out said plan without having spoken of it for months!
The plans of WEF 4 are not like other WEF plans in this regard. At least not today. They have remained relatively constant since Christmas. But fear not fellow WEFers! The days of WEF plans will return…
WEF 4 will go to Turkey sometime in mid-August. On the 23rd or so WEF 4 will go to Bodrum to scuba dive, as is the WEF want. Then WEF 4 will either meet up with her friends in Istanbul or continue her journey to Cameroon. (This particular piece of the plan is not contingent upon WEF, but on the friends of WEF.) Regardless, WEF will most certainly be in Cameroon by the second week of September. There WEF will be making a documentary about microfinance and its impact on women with friend of WEF, Jessica Antista, who has been there since the beginning of this year as a Fulbright Scholar. Hopefully, WEF will be done by Christmas, which is when the WEF-trip back to Turkey will have been booked. The plan becomes relatively fuzzy at this point. It will depend upon WEF provisions. Both the PhD program and the Scuba program in Mars start in April. Hopefully WEF can be unemployed until then.
Well . . . I believe this is all WEF 4 has to say.
In case I don’t see you, WEFers, good afternoon, good morning and good night.
It has been found. Thank you all so very much for putting your heads together to sort this out for me. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to know you cared. This is the best mother’s day gift possible.
I don’t really have much to add but concurrence. We need to know if we
actually have our name on the deed. We should be willing, if we’re
capable, to buy out anyone who needs out. I agree with Mom; the
easement is an absurd idea.
I adore Hardy Creek, but Erin is right about the possibility that
there may just be too many people owning it right now. If there was a
way to sell it for its true price, get our share, and then reinvest
the money in another parcel of land…well, I would say we should do
that. But I don’t think we can get out of Hardy Creek without selling
it for less then it’s worth, in which case, no beans. When it comes
time to do your will, Oh Lovely Parents, we should think very hard on
which family (Husband, Wife + Kids) should inherit. I don’t think all
of us should, just for sanity’s sake.
*
And Cousin Elisa’s response to me:
Hi Mark,
Right now the Hardy Creek property is still in your Mom and
Dad's name, unfortunately it was not deeded into their trust.
I’ve been trying to see if there is a way to transfer it to
you and John without the necessity of probate.I haven’t
really worked on if for awhile as I'm currently taking 15
units at SF State , two days of teaching and still trying
to do the law thing.I’ll be totally done June 9th and I’ll
be able devote all my time.Hope all is going well.
I would like to have a family discussion on the Turkey house and guests. I believe that the three points I’m about to make I already made during our last Turkey discussion, but, just in case, here they are again.
1) If the family is there as a group, no guests are allowed without explicit permission from everyone. WEF2 gets a pass for this one, as long as she tells the rest of the family in advance, so we can decide whether we still want to come. Unless WEF2 has already destroyed the sanctity of family time with the infamous Outsider, the rest of the family is bound to this rule.
2) My room is just that: My Room. I leave things there. In fact, I purposely bring things from other places with the sole intention of leaving them in my Turkey room. My drawers, my closet, my carpet—they are all just that. Mine. Thus, anyone who is visiting and is using my room as a location to sleep will assumedly be informed that my things are not to be touched or moved, but that any empty closet or drawer space is free for their use. Eating and drinking in my room is expressly forbidden, as the idea of someone staining my lovely carpet is abominable.
3) I am not a fan of the idea of strangers fornicating on my bed. If this seems unreasonable, then I am sure other WExF members are more than willing for such a thing to occur: Guests who plan to have sexual encounters during their vacation can sleep there. If other WExF members are no more willing than I to have strangers fornicating in their room, then I suppose it is not such an unreasonable request after all.
All in all, I love the idea of everyone in the family being able to use this great vacation spot with their friends, but I don’t want to ever feel as if my room is a guest room. I am willingly allowing a stranger to sleep in my room, that does not mean I am handing it over without any regulations. Hopefully, my understanding of my explicit and complete ownership of my room in Turkey is correct. As I said before, I believe this was all covered before, but I just want to make sure.
I sent all WEFers an e-mail on the goings on at Hardy Creek. I think it’s probably better to have any discussion about it here so we can all see everything.
Tom Lewis is a second (?) cousin who’s put a lot of time and effort into the property over the years. He and Aunt Nancy (Berry) represent the side of the family that generally uses the Big House. Joe is one of the ten children of my Aunt Mary (my mom’s sister) He is from “our side” of the family who generally have chosen to use the smaller cabin. By “our side” I don’t mean to imply there’s any conflict (there isn’t). It’s just that our families in a lot of ways grew up together, and we don’t know the other side nearly as well. I think it’s important to understand that there are no bad guys in this, although emotions may get in the way occasionally. Anyway, here’s Tom’s letter again. I don’t have Aunt Nancy’s letter in this computer, but it has basically the same theme, without the touch of bitterness:
Here are Joe and my brother John’s messages:
Hi John, Tom’s letter arrived today (attached). I was expecting bad, but Tom’s
negative emotions jumped off the page at me. He took some unnecessary shots
which don’t bother me because I think he is off base, nothing new. I forwarded Tom and Nancy’s letters to my sibs. Both letters seem to
have a “fork u in the road” theme.
* Joe
Thanks for forwarding it. Tom also sent a copy to me. As I said before, I have
no objections to having the Save the Redwoods League or anyone else taking a
look at the property or even having an official appraisal done, as long as they
realize there is no obligation incurred. I’m also thinking that Nancy and Tom
are way too optimistic about having anyone buy the property in a hurry. It’s not
as though the economy is that great out there or that the state has a bunch of
extra cash floating around And if they’re interested, it’s likely to take years
to close a deal. As for the trail, a payment for an easement is much more likely
than any straight purchase. I think, though, you had probably get in touch with
Uncle George and Elisa to see where they stand and what the legal options are.
Again, thanks for keeping me in the loop.
John W
------------------------
And below are our family’s comments so far. I’m not entirely comfortable posting e-mails, as there’s more of an expectation of privacy than on the blog. I’ve done some minor editing and paraphrased (in italics) some of the more colorful phrasing:
*
FromWEF4: Was he talking about us with all the “days are changing, people are around the world” stuff? Gee I hope not. Anyway, doesn’t the caretaker take care of the property for board? If that’s the case, I’m not sure I entirely understand Tom’s concerns. I understand there are getting to be a lot of people involved, but I’m still unsure about who is who. If someone can buy them out that would be awesome, otherwise perhaps there are just too many people on this property to make keeping it worthwhile.
Or what is this easement option that Uncle John is talking about? That might be better . . . btw, We probably need to clarify the ownership issues involved here.
Sorry, more questions than answers. Thanks for letting me know what is going on. What do the rest of you think?
*
From WEF3: I would sell whatever we have to and buy them out at the price they agreed to when they first bought the place, BUT adjusted for inflation and spread out over 10 years. Sounds like they are just desperate for money and relief from having to deal with the meetings and dues. I can understand not wanting to sell it for what - 7 thousand? What would the adjusted price be taking into account inflation? A 10 year payment schedule might not be so burdensome, especially if we can get Uncle John on board.
At the very least, this would be a very financially sound investment. There is no better investment than land, especially this piece of land.
I wish I could contribute more than just thoughts to this, but alas, I am also broke.
*
From WEF2: As to any easement for a trail, if the trail is on the property to the beach we just gave the beach away. Please make sure Elise comments on this. Also, I am against an easement unless it is very clear folks cannot stray from the path (right . . . ) or, again, we are opening up this property to the public and we can lose significant rights over time. (I see no reason to give anyone an easement — the money will be insignificant and we’re giving away a lot).
Didn’t see the whole trail of emails, so cannot make it all out. I agree with Nate about a buy out, but only if we enhance our voting position. This property will become a nightmare soon unless the owners can agree on what to do — and that means a majority vote somehow. However, if the price is right, I say we buy out whoever needs the cash.
Like Erin, I would be interested in seeing the deed and clarifying the ownership issue. If fact I’ve have been wondering about it for some time.
*
Me: I don’t think Tom was particularly talking about us, because there are several families that are no longer in the area, and I’m sure that’s part of reason he feels he’s gotten stuck holding the bag with all the responsibility.
I’ve contacted cousin Elisa (the daughter of my mom’s brother, so another member of “our side” of the family– She and her father, Uncle George, have been the attorneys dealing with Hardy Creek all these years) to get the documentation so we know how this is all owned and our part in it.
I think that if we can get a accurate appraisal of the property, it would be a good first step to working this out. Then we can figure out what everyone’s positions are, and what is possible.
I also think we should decide how much time and effort each of us personally may be willing to put into the management of the property, if it comes down to it. Tom is undoubtedly correct that there’s been a lot of standing around with hands in pockets, letting things ride. It may be that those willing to put some energy into this will drive the process, and we’re spread all over the world, except in California. So some personal commitment may be necessary. Hardy Creek is a pretty big deal to me, but that may be nothing more than nostalgia. We need to know what everybody else thinks.
