Sunday, September 17, 2023

Look and Breathe

Well yet again it has gotten heavy around here; it usually does. Fall is coming on and Winter is quickly approaching, and I'll have much more down time to get through all of these notes and ideas and get some more writing out. I have some really gnarly stuff to work through in the coming months, much of which is attributable to the fact that there is a lot of really gnarly stuff going on, and one must face it. But I don't want to lose sight of the fact that a large part of understanding and coming to terms with reality has to do with living well in accordance with that reality, which is what I'm constantly trying to do here. 

And oftentimes it means taking a step back and looking around and taking a few breaths. I like to get out and take a look around and really take in the beauty of the world we've got. I can share some of that through the occasional picture or so at least. 

I get a lot of pictures of Rainier - Tahoma in indigenous language - in particular. You could call it a form of worship, a reverence for those titanic forces of nature, which in this case forged this great water tower, blasted into the air by volcanic eruption, and then catching and holding a massive store of water through the accumulated glaciers, which cut their way down the mountain, forming those beautiful snaking lateral moraines, and then finally terminating at the snout with a river pouring forth, nursing incredible ecosystems all along its course. 

And if you squint at the entire thing, you can make out the unified movement of its many curves, moving together with gravity, and you can hear the roar of the river traffic, miles upon miles away, all moving together and with purpose. 



 

On and Off

It can be hard to get one's head around the phenomenon of fascism, or the death cult, or the increasingly twisting and self-destructive logics and actions of the rabid nationalists, or the desperate papering over and forced smiles of the liberals and progressives for that matter. And on an individual and subjective level it is as it should be: if one wants to live as one is, one is to fight one's enemies after all. 

But I have to remind myself - and there are plenty of others even more befuddled and lost than me - of the artificial dualism that we've so sharply drawn collectively, concerning the simple contrast between life and death. I mean on the one hand it is a very stark and oftentimes useful simplification: on an individual level you are either alive or dead; we have that one down at least. 

But on the other hand, at larger scales and at higher levels of abstraction, it is not so simple. There is a deep and intractable intertwining of the forces of creation and destruction. And as such, an explosive and destructive release of energy, or a rapid draining out of vital force, is driven through its own internal will, and only wishes to be itself, and fulfill its own nature. 

If an explosion could talk, or the calving off of a mountain, or a ruptured artery, it would only say: "I'm doing what it is that is in accordance with what I am. What else would I do?"

Because living is also coming to terms with what is. 

Signal from the Deep

I think of a literal fault line, where over time the evidence gradually mounts in favor of its existence in the form of little tremors issuing as the plates grind and slip, and the tremors might grow in frequency and amplitude as the tension builds up, until something gives and you get a massive earthquake.

Over long stretches of time, there have been a wide range of explanations for these phenomena - all with an internal logic and consistency of their own - using data gathered from the senses and daily experience and memory and collective tradition, to attempt to piece together some sort of model to explain and anticipate these subterranean movements. Moving earth set into motion by the activities of great beings for example, or the machinations of angry gods. 

Even the sciences of geology and tectonics are comprised of vast mosaics of accumulated theory and pieced together data sets: the inferences drawn from observable geological phenomena on the surface, or data taken from drilling and core analysis and dating, measurements of continental drift and the study of the movement of bodies of water in relation to the earth, measurements and historical data sets of the frequency and amplitude of tremors and quakes, the geometrical and mathematic descriptions of planes and landscapes, and so on. 

What got me going on this though was something more biological, and by extension socioeconomic and political in nature. That's right, that subject near and dear to my heart - both literally physically and metaphorically - the socioeconomic and sociopolitical dynamics of the ongoing coronavirus pandemic. What we're becoming ever more aware of, through the study of Long Covid cohorts especially, is the sheer depth and complexity of the damage being done, with the passage of time being an additional confounding factor. 

The passage of time especially has some salient implications. We've talked about the longer term social and economic implications of the damage being done by Long Covid, but there is more to consider in even longer arcs. For example, the science communicator Eric Topol likes to bring up the fact that researchers have barely started scratching the surface of what Long Covid is and what it is doing, and we only have 3 years of observation to go by. Covid is a strange and baffling disease, and it is easy to forget that the multi-system disorder took everyone by surprise initially, where everyone was looking for respiratory issues. 

But as Topol has pointed out, this has been the case for over a hundred years: viruses do some very strange things to people over time, and we've been ignoring a lot of it, or at least not understanding the data sets well until there is enough to go on. For example, there was a large growth in Parkinson's disease cases some 15 years after the 1918 influenza epidemic, which has increasingly been traced to it. Or the explosion of post-polio disorders that arose some 30 to 40 years after that epidemic. In the early years of the pandemic we're very much in the dark, and one can only speculate about the cumulative effects of very slow and invisible structural damages that are mounting over time on top of other forms of damage, which are growing more frequent and more extensive: it has been pointed out that given the acceleration in velocity and reach of global industrial civilization, we could only expect more pandemics coming down the pipe at greater frequencies and greater levels of destruction. 

This is just one of the many fault lines, on a multidimensional axis, that we're simply choosing to ignore, like some sleazy developer building out a sprawling grid of single family housing over a known quake zone, or a flood plane, or deeper and deeper into the woods, or what have you, with full knowledge of what it means, and deliberately setting that knowledge aside and tucking it away, while pocketing the cash and leaving the area in good time. 

I use this image deliberately because as I write this, much of the limited funding going to studying Long Covid - and let's be clear, a lion's share of this funding is for observation, with very little going towards therapeutic solutions, of which there are currently zero in accepted practice - is scheduled to dry up, nearly simultaneously with the abandonment of testing and tracking and environmental mitigation like ventilation and masking. 

I mean, having Long Covid in a society that has abandoned even mitigation...in microcosm it is kind of comparable to someone with asthma living with a smoker, in a house with poor ventilation and nowhere really to go. Wave after wave of infection, triggering the affliction all over again and setting back the healing process and doing ever more damage...I can say with personal experience, living with Long Covid is many things, but one of the most insidious on a social level is the sheer alienation to the experience of others involved. 

I watched Parkinson's advance in my step mom - the complications eventually killed her - and one thing you see happen over time is the subjective wall that goes up between that person's experiences and the rest of the people around them. You can sympathize and be present with them, but nothing will really penetrate into that person's experience. The more she started shaking, the more her speech started to slur, the more trouble she had supporting her own weight and chewing her own food, the more she simply wanted to be alone, and away from the observation of others. 

We're talking about enormous amounts of slow, distorted, hidden, grinding human suffering that will happen between countless closed doors over longer periods of time, which will be heaped upon many other converging political, economic and environmental dislocations and traumas in the coming decades. There will be consequences, and that is putting it lightly. 

To dramatize and compress and simplify what will take place over decades, with some irreverence to balance the spicing: you've been following the steadily growing trail of destruction, trying to make the shape of the problem out, until the thing itself rises up from the depths and breaks the surface, showing its face, and then you get that Jaws "we're going to need a bigger boat" moment, much too late of course, when the only recourse you have is shooting a gun at some oxygen cannister - or whatever the hell that thing was - in the hopes of simply blowing everything up. 

Monday, September 11, 2023

The Changing Nature of Violence Pt. 3

Damn I kind of dropped the ball on this one. But let's finally wrap this one up and see if anything interesting shakes out as a result. This'll be another long one. More to come after this post. 

To briefly recap the previous parts of the series, we talked about the problem of violence over the past couple of thousand of years and the accumulations of power and wealth that have occurred over time to deal with that problem, which have slowly built up historically as a kind of strata and steadily changed the structural circumstances that in turn shape the trajectories of the cyclical rising and falling of empires that continues today. 

The ruling style of the Assyrian empire I think serves as a near crystalline example of an older, more direct solution to tamping down on widespread violence, when direct violence was a regular social mechanism across many different societies interacting with each other. Terror and overwhelming force were used to extinguish any potential for violence in rivals. The only problem with this was that it instilled intense resentment and bad memory in those tamped down, and as soon as the pressure eased, the downtrodden were ready to roar back to the top. 

What seemed to have happened over thousands of years was that the problem was solved - or at least the nature of the problem shifted - more or less accidentally through the gradual proliferation of wealthier and wealthier societies and persistently shifting cultural norms and political ideologies, evolving over a backdrop of centuries upon centuries of accumulating and enduring human wealth, knowledge and technology. 

See, to put it really crudely, the threat of going soft from accumulating too much power and wealth and enjoying too high a quality of life for too long becomes less of a threat if the same thing is happening to everyone else. 

There are a whole lot of other things happening in the transition from the Middle Ages to the Modern era that we have to gloss over at the moment, and we've covered some of them in the past. There are a whole lot of twisting and turning stories in there to address and to readdress in time, and as always the closer you look the stranger and bewildering things get to looking. 

But at a bird's eye view there were a couple of converging pressures that were contributing to this change in the nature of the violence problem. Just look at the dramatic change in personality of the Abrahamic god going from the Old Testament to the New Testament, and then the change from those accompanying principles to the Enlightenment principles and on into the Modern era. 

Though on an individual basis there was more than enough hypocrisy to go around, you did have a rapid and explosive proliferation of a religious ideology that stressed love and forgiveness and nonviolence, often at the tip of a sword, but the message was there nonetheless. And Napoleon did the same with the Enlightenment principles as well. 

The messages - however cynically they were employed and manipulated - do matter: people begin to internalize guiding principles that they are checking against their lived reality. And on top of that, the messages themselves reflect real changing material and cultural realities in the societies promulgating them. 

Further, the imperial European powers were spreading wealth and rapid technological advancement all over the globe during the colonial era, the lions share of which was hostile to and exploitative of conquered populations, but which was nonetheless wealth. Eventually, the modern world exploded into existence, propelled in part by the Industrial Revolution, and the rest is history, to indulge a cliche. 

But first, is all of this to say that it was the rapid imperial expansion of the Western world that indirectly brought about the proliferation of wealth and thus changing conditions that allowed for the suppression of direct violence on some absolute level? No and emphatically no. European imperialism steamrolled countless societies whether peaceful or violent or somewhere in between, and there are numerous forms and conceptions of wealth to take into account besides. 

What we are describing here are the internal conditions of an evolving civilizational body that has transformed and spread across the globe over thousands of years, which through its imperial nature forces an average mode of conduct upon the many varied societies taken up within it over the course of its evolution. What we are concerned with in the course of this discussion is the evolving nature of bounded civilization as it exists across the globe, not with any sort of possible way of life that a given society could offer in its own provincial domain. 

Further, this narrative occurs from a Western perspective, and omits the evolution of societies across the rest of the world which have their own trajectories as they enter into the generalizing and globalizing project of human civilization. 

But let's at last deal with the modern problem of violence and what it might mean for the future, as we've now arrived at the contemporary, modern world in the narrative. Much of the violence we see in the modern industrial world is more indirect and economic in nature. We see less widespread kinetic violence and a more distributed, slower, quieter economic violence, which does eventually lead to louder and more spectacular violence over time as the damage is done. Needless to say, we need to unpack this. 

There was this observation from a prison therapist that always stuck in my mind: that at the root of most violent acts he observed in his clients was a perceived lack of respect. This to me rings true: if you watch any kind of schoolyard fight break out, it starts with disrespectful comments and sneers and snickers, which leads increasingly to grave and menacing facial expressions, which leads to shoving or chest bumping or spitting, and then eventually the fists start flying. One goes from feeling the need to express one's worth and dignity to others publicly to simply trying to hurt the other person, and make sure one is still standing while the other is on the ground. 

Increasingly in the modern world, impulses like these are immediately seized upon by the authorities and marked off for quarantine. This stuff is is very quickly and vigorously socialized away in children: "use your words not your fists" and "violence is never the answer" and so on. You see this in very immediate and decisive personal disciplinary actions, as well as in the transmission of more abstract cultural mores in the course of education. 

The state monopolization of violence is carefully doled out through professionalization and credentialization, replete with trainings and rules of engagement and legal maneuvering and so on. We see that further out in the borderlands, or inwards in the impoverished sacrifice zones within the core, the stewards of violent action are given a lot more leeway and lenience, but by and large the administration of violence is carefully controlled in a modern society. 

There are many and complex reasons for this. For one thing, a blood feud is much more destructive when you move away from arrows and spears and towards firearms. The sheer explosiveness of the contemporary utilization of energy and the advanced suites of technology that come with it requires elaborate and vigorous taboos on its movements and flows. 

Just as interestingly though, direct violence seems to be something that culturally you are to climb up out of, like getting up and out of the dirt. Just as you employ labor power and resources to lay down stone to get out of the dirt and move up the class ladder, you engage in education and the cultivation of trades, commerce, politics, the arts, and so on to build up platforms of public respectability in pursuing higher respect, regard, and ultimately social power. 

These games of social prestige often turn out to be sublimated forms of violence, but in a complex, interconnected, and energy intensive society moving at extremely high velocities, it is certainly preferable to the more physical and kinetic methods.

In the average citizens of developed countries you see a very basic aversion to direct violence. People in the streets turn away from it where it threatens to express itself, just as one walks over the homeless person on the ground, hoping that it will go away if they aren't antagonizing it and that they will be spared. Just as there is a turning away from the dirty and sweating laborer, beastly and atavistic somehow. 

And when you do have spontaneous outbursts of physical violence, such as with a mass shooting, what you most often see is a widespread sense of shock in those forced to participate in it, unable to escape its clutches. These events are experienced as surreal and otherworldly, like the disembodied unfolding of a movie, perceivable but disconnected from one's own direct life. 

People do remain connected to - and titillated by - the older and so-called "baser" people relations. It shows up in entertainment in particular, but also in the division of labor in general. You see that traditionally a lot of prizefighters are drawn from lower class neighborhoods and hustling immigrants for example, and professional soldiers from rural communities and troubled urban districts, and they are often awarded a prestige of their own for their efforts. 

You even saw this sort of thing as far back as ancient Rome: the gladiators for example were drawn from slaves and lower class criminals and prisoners of war. It was a harsh and violent living, but as they existed in a constant struggle for glory given the Roman aesthetic, they were afforded their own niche of bequeathed public regard and often sexualized for their physicality and daily feats of bravery. There was a constant anxiety about aristocratic women being attracted to them, which was quite a dangerous proposition for those garnering too much attention. 

Yes, Roman society was predominantly a military one, but in more stable and affluent times more of the aristocracy was insulated from the dangers of military conquest and were often seeking out prestige through political intrigue in the capital for instance, while remaining titillated by those still adhering to the old aesthetic of glorified violent conquest. It was when the society broke down through invasion and civil war that you saw aristocrats don their armor and weapons again, and you saw the warrior emperors re-emerge. 

That's sort of the rub of the modern world too: these carefully constructed platforms of social peace and physical security and the realm of the rule of law and civil rights form quite the fragile safety net when tested. The forces of violence are never quite far from the surface, and readily come roaring back under extreme collective strain and duress. 

Given the energy intensiveness and the rolling instabilities of modern capital, our social engines of production are perpetually destroying the environments they are ensconced in, and perpetually alienating and antagonizing the human labor they run on. The energy-intensive game of sublimating violent domination into the realms of political, cultural, and economic regard can very quickly break down when it runs up against limits, such as with environmental degradation, pollution, failing states and streams of refugees as imperial systems break down, financial depressions and internal strife, and so on. 

And when it does run up against its limits, all of that concentrated energy moving at high velocity can break away sharply and explosively. We saw this expressed spectacularly in the World Wars, when multiple empires vying for power and prestige collided into each other as the imperial system broke down, and multiple fires broke out simultaneously within societies pushing the health of their populations to their breaking points.  

Those layers upon layers of technological advancement and material power - pursued by multiple competing powers for the sake of security and prosperity - were the real danger in the final analysis: the vast oceans of firearm and endless walls of machinegun, the mountains of artillery shell and the industrial complexes to back them and produce them, and the exploding populations to set them into motion, which created the conditions for a maelstrom of industrialized violence that turned vast regions into moonscapes and which mutually brought the various combatants to their knees. 

This was the meatgrinder that put the old fear back into the hearts of the commanders witnessing them, which led to the mass terror bombing of civilians in WWII, universally utilized by the fighting powers in hopes of cauterizing the wounds and staving off the grinders, forcing their opponents hands before their societies were once again turned inside out by the breakneck industrial pace of the wartime arms race, culminating in the dropping of The Bomb. That old Assyrian tactic of instrumentalized terror had returned to once again rear its ugly head. 

Those old taboos were never as far behind us as we thought. From the atrocities of the Eastern Front, to the boobytrapped jungles of Vietnam and the IED strewn sands of Iraq, the cascade of retributive atrocity and war crimes crop up as a reliable human behavior where the conflicts get too hot, moving increasingly from the abandoned and impoverished peripheries closer and closer to the cores. 

And where "civil society" breaks back down into violent conquest, the heat and velocity not only produce much destruction, but also intense individual and collective traumas and bad karmic zones that can echo for generations like nuclear fallout. We're seeing this play out in the Ukraine now, and we'll see it continue to advance as the years wear on. 

In a way, that strange saga of the Prigozhin mutiny was a striking emblem of this modern brand of fragility. Superficially, it is easy enough to scratch one's head at the spectacle: why would someone stage a mutiny like that without a greater base of support in a place like Russia under a ruler like Putin? What did he think was going to happen? 

But looking at the man himself, the saga makes perfect sense. This was a man forged in the criminal underworld and in prison, and whose unique talents became quite useful to the Russian state in the form of contained military power, projecting surplus populations and violence outward to conflict hotspots of interest to the state and society. 

All of that energy and desperation of the Ukraine war, which was to be contained on a delimited battlefield, began to leak out. Just imagining the pressure that someone like this had undergone in the field: the waves of traded artillery, the claustrophobic urban warfare, the maddening slog through minefields, all of which was to be contained where the wars were happening, and not tracked back into civilized society like so much mud. 

All of that pressure made him pop when it started to become apparent that the Wagner Group - and his power - was going to be taken from him.  The simplest explanation for his doomed march to Moscow. He popped, and the rest of the state held, and a fragile state of peace was maintained throughout the failed mutiny in observance of international law, and his forces stood down and he walked. Until his plane went down anyway amidst clouds of plausible deniability. That sort of open force was best contained in the battlefield. For now.