of a few things large and many things small

reading Robinson's Red Mars reminds me of a basic and oft-under (or un-) appreciated principle of ecology: change in the ecospere tends to flow from small to large, and not vise versa.

sure, planets have colided. asteroids caused massive turnover in earth species composition. nonetheless, where did life come from? the smallest of units, testing a galaxy of possibilities, some succeeding, some aggregating.

the little things. we dream grand dreams of galaxies, of control. seen from a plane, humans' works are not vast. none but our roads and our lights warrant note. points and lines.

ozone hole; global warming; oxygen atmosphere: consequences of small units, people and plants and refridgerators, units repeated to vast proportions over time, an inflation of individually insignificant individuals that, together over time, effects nontrivial change.

this is the law of history as well as ecology. the pyramids, slaves. democracy with it's masses, intel's chips.

small isn't trivial.

classroom economics experiments

i've been thinking lately about inflation and the meaning of money lately. i think a classroom experiment with monopoply money and a real lemonade stand would be great. folks draw some sort of income (perhaps making the lemonade and selling it to the vendor), vendors get paid a fixed turn-based wage. if the resale price of lemonade rises 10% every turn, the "real value" of money immediately becomes apparent.

as an added capitalist spin, savings might be used to buy a stand or "manufacturing plant", and employees are hired from the participants. finally, adding or removing money from the system, a bank with a savings rate...

Albany NY

Mo says, "an owl and a bunny went to Albany".

A view of the Hudson

It's a *very* pretty ride, and we both got seats on the good (west) side of the train. It's amazing how quickly a city of millions gives way to a sparsely-populated expanse of water and trees. Sailboats are scattered picturesquely about.

Safely on the train

after a half-mad rush through the subway. Morning rush hour was, thankfully, merciful. Epic confusion in Penn Station of the "where in god's name anre the amtrack trains" variety in the *dead midst* of morning rush hour. Nonetheless, success with minutes to spare! No assigned seating, and Mo and i get split, which is probably for the best at this point. We're both borderline hungover, dangerously caffeinated, and tragically sleep-deprived. But we are safe, and the train is spacious and relaxed, and the aforementioned pbr begins to sing its sweet siren song from the bag, otherwise known as "late lunch"...

A last look @ Williamsburg

We eat a hurried few bites in front of our heap of bags. Very pretty morning, the air is misty and thick. We're told that a tropical depression is in-bound, that it will starting raining around noon and continue for days. We'll be safely on the train by then. Good timing.

The swank Williamsburg Apt

Where we stayed. Very cozy, replete with romantic fire escape to sit on in the cool evening air.

Some of our luggage

that we will haul on our backs through the tunnels to Penn Station. Amomng other indispensables? 9 cans of pbr. Not light.

Good morning sunshine

After a few hours of sleep, we crawl towards breakdast, Penn station, and Canada.

Happy Hour

We savor the peace of having not killed each other during the long, hot day. Cold Brooklyn Brewery lager and smoking on the non-smoking, zoo-cage patio is the perfect pairing with this moment of foot-blissed circumspection.