Including Toy Guns

At approximately 1:30 this afternoon, a student brandished a gel blaster gun and began using it in the hallways. The student was immediately apprehended by staff and was detained by our Student Resource Officer. The campus was placed on a "Hold" from 1:30–1:55 p.m. while staff and [redacted] police made sure the area was safe.

Please remind your children about the dangers of students bringing certain items, including toy guns, to school. Possession of any type of weapon — including a toy — is a serious violation of the [redacted] Student Code of Conduct.

...

We need to have a talk, my children
You're old enough to hear the deal

You do remember, we've had the sex talk already
All that stuff about the birds and the bees

We've had the race talk also, a puzzler that one
When I brought up ignorance, that social disease

But, mark my words, I'm raising you in America
That land of opportunity, with all that it means

Cringe, I know, your father's message, but hear me out on this
Lest I ever hear of you saying that you can't breathe

Far too many lives have been lost, consigned to thoughts and prayers
People just like you, brought low for the most dubious of reasons

Truth be told, this society is funeral minded
I can barely keep up, the litany of hazards we face daily

Knocking on the wrong door, jogging, or simply reaching
We can now add another, but this one is easily avoided

The subject is weapons, the danger is the perception
Some might say that it's a matter of possession

Albeit you might be having a little bit of fun
Careful of the things you carry including toy guns

True, in our family, we've always held that education is war
But the new warfare is metaphorical, don't bring in bows and arrows

I kid you not, it's unfortunate, there's no foolproof protection
Even a raised umbrella can cause no small amount of trouble

So if you must wield a weapon, let it be in the form of your thoughts
And express them judiciously, for no one is promised tomorrow

Your words will carry you but remember
It doesn't cost much to bite your tongue

Do go out of your way to make others comfortable
Proudly wear, as you do, that mask of civility

But make sure that it is only heartfelt outrage
That causes you to be accused of disturbing tranquility

That's all I have for now, I cry at night that you can be viewed as a threat
Despite all of our efforts, this country decidedly fails to protect

That we live in this strange world full of perils including toy guns
Carry on as you were, you're my favorite daughter and son

See previously: Prone, Action Items and Response Consultant

File under: USA, blood, violence, absurd, culture, observation, weapons, modernity, perception, language, bureaucracy, life, poetry, outrage, guns, The Rough Beast, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log. May 8, 2023

Word Choice

She wrote "gathered". He was intrigued by the word choice
"Would you have preferred 'stolen'?", she said in reply
The silence after her retort was pregnant, loaded with reflection
Clearly many far more graphic words could well apply

She was being diplomatic, the occasion called for euphemism
There was no need to bring up the conqueror's catechism
The damage was done, the crown jewels were befitting
Why mention the earlier propensity for looting?

Those from the land of gold are connoisseurs of opacity
Who feel little burden in wearing masks of civility
There's a time and place, we aver, for plain speaking
But the sphinx modalities inform our private thinking

And, yes, the word gathered belies those fraught histories
An apt pointer to past abuses and enduring legacies
And, of the frayed fabric of memory still awaiting reparation,
A reminder: it's a choice to forgo truth and reconciliation

After King Charles' coronation: How would it happen in Ghana? (BBC, May 4, 2023)

Listen also: Loot, a playlist (spotify version)

File under: colonialism, euphemism, language, Africa, culture, observation, perception, memory, history, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log. May 4, 2023

Free-For-All

It was a question of nerve
  and, when it came down to it, the Wan blinked first
After their scribes threw in the towel,
  they succumbed to humanity's curse
In a moment, it seemed, they upended all their previous mitigations
Pivoting to the new normal, they said, they lifted all restrictions

That it was time to return to normalcy was the considered feeling
Truth be told, there was, in this, a large element of wishful thinking
And the evidence was clear, they'd been inadequate with this change of plans
The toll quickly showed they'd chosen a lower tier of soul insurance

For, beyond emotional vaccination, one needed inoculation effectiveness
Herd immunity was indeed a chimera,
  for now the whole land was a mess
It was every man for themselves, whiplash throughout the populace
Who would bear the heavy burden of the good scribes's mistakes

The historians would later ask, did they consider the alternatives?
The way these academics do, making hay at length about what ifs
They could have at least waited until after their lunar new year
What did they gain by so precipitously succumbing to fear?

And the optics weren't good, the whole world would be disbelieving
Any statistics now profferred would be taken as those Wan deceiving
All we know was that they were finally going through their second wave
Although, with the kind of numbers affected,
  fortune would only favor the brave

Hastily abandoned, previous certainties were now summarily dismissed
Yet saving face meant that no one could admit that anything was amiss
A confusion of discarded policies that were no longer compelling
The official silence that reigned in those ghastly few months was telling

Leveling up - or down as the case really proved to be
Now there was no sanctuary on hand for the catastrophe
The whole world placed as it were in the thick of it
Global narrative collapse with its striking deficits

Ananse hankered down with his family,
  best to keep quiet and watch what would unfold
In the aftermath, there would be more opportunity,
  of this he didn't need to be told
The Wan, it seemed, had calculated
 and decided on what amounted to acceptable loss
As the old proverb went: one cannot separate fighting horses with millet stalks

Weary times would follow, the toll of those days was rather harrowing
When all around everyone in the grip of the gods' cauldron was suffering
Ananse beheld so many that were complaining of these significations and wonders
Perplexing given that they'd had the opportunity to prevent the earlier blunders

It was the inconvenience that was the prime bone of contention
The notion that it was no longer worth favoring prevention
The change of policy had scuppered any goodwill, crossing the spider
He never forgot a grudge,
 in good time they would have something to remember

And so zero tolerance would be a thing of the past
It was surely inevitable that they couldn't hold fast
Now that caution was foregone, in its place came laissez faire
We would have no more examples of humanity's strategic savoir faire

The last sanctuary, then, swiftly descended into upheaval
A return to the worst of plague living, echoes of the medieval
The Gods had put all to the test, even those without the wherewithal
And with no place to hide on earth. We would all face this free-for-all

Free For All, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Free For All by Art Blakey & the Jazz Messengers
• Every Man For Himself by Coleman Hawkins
• Upside Down by Diana Ross
• Topsy Turvy by Earl Hines
• No Rules by Trini Baby & Robelto
• Topsy Turvy by Bud Powell
• Back at One by Brian McKnight

See previously: Shakedown

File under: humour, satire, culture, observation, folktale, Ananse, storytelling, whimsy, myth, coronavirus, pandemic, Social Living, Things Fall Apart, Observers are worried, Buyer's Remorse, hatchet job, covidious, poetry, toli

Writing log: May 27, 2023

This Thief

There's no good way to receive bad news
And it is a feature of grief
That it catches you unawares
Cuts your soul, plunging deep

A phone call
One-handed, you answer
While marinating the meat

Raw chicken
Primal
Scream

A dear one has been stolen from you by this thief


...

This thief returns to the scene of the crime
No different in this, than other criminals
A repeat offender though, the gods gave up on reform
Threw their hands up at this incorrigible burglar
As if to get an idea for the next heist
There's always a target of opportunity
Even when the authorities are hot on the trail
Acting unconcerned, for the work is thrilling
Funeral minded, this thief, and comfortable hiding in plain sight
Secure in the knowledge there's no need for a mask on the face
Even while out on bail, the crime spree continues apace
Stripping bare all certainties, impressing the inevitability of death
This thief loots and pillages, crown jewels, a desecration
Faith and solace in the aftermath, grasping for soul insurance
Yet there's no salving the wounds, there's no consolation
Memories are the only thing the victims have left


For Uncle Ofosu

See previously The Laws of Grief


File under: grief, culture, observation, perception, social, memory, life, mourning, poetry, loss, Observers are worried, Social Living, Things Fall Apart, toli

Writing log: January 21, 2023

African Travel Narratives

I've been thinking of The Traveler's Africa; the view from the Torrid Zone. Some readings beyond Equiano's Travels taken from my bookshelf (oh, and a playlist...)

Classics of the Genre

• The Modern Traveller by Hilaire Belloc
• Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
• Travels in West Africa by Mary Kingsley
• Black Mischief by Evelyn Waugh
• Travels with my Aunt by Graham Greene

From savage satire to the impressionistic to the documentary.

Hilaire Belloc's satirical eye is sublime. Nothing escapes his immaculate rendering of the essence of thousands of travel narratives. From antiquity to, say, the great explorers tomes (Mungo Park's travels in the interior) to near-contemporaries like Stanley and Livingstone. All that and more are highlighted in The Modern Traveller.

He dismantles the kind of writing lionized in the prose of empire by Kipling and others. Where we'd now say God, Gold and Glory, Belloc straightforwardly put it as Blood and Sin in vicious light verse. The cover by Basil Blackwood is apt. All the tropes of travel writing about Africa are outlined, the mystery at its heart, and all that made it evocative. Writing at the height of empire in the wake of the British victory at the battle of Omdurman in 1898, there is much to deflate in Victorian triumphalism and he sets about it avidly. The Modern Traveller is his early masterpiece.

The Journalistic Impulse

The journalistic impulse weighs heavily on travel narratives and Africa gives great material for the genre.

The travel writer ofen emerges jaded from the encounter with Africa despite the initial optimism. The people steal your heart but also destroy you. You might start to merely document but hallucinations often follow, such is the burden of the heart of darkness. Joseph Conrad, of course, had great influence on popular perceptions of Africa, and for good reasons: metaphors and urgent storytelling will always strike a chord.

It would take more than half a century and Chinua Achebe's own urgent storytelling to begin to change the perspective and to show that African voices need not be drowned out in the travel narratives and treated as mere backdrop. Indeed, they can lead the way.

A Burnt Out Case is probably Graham Greene's most focused entry, a lush hatchet job of the Conrad template, but Travels with my Aunt is his purest distillation of travel writing. An entertainment, perhaps, it captures the fecklessness and the roving eye. The kind of observed behavior that Evelyn Waugh savages with vicious fun in Black Mischief.

Contrast with the relatively sober yet similarly roving eye of Mary Kingsley. Hers is rooted in her search for botanical specimens but there is a richness to what she uncovers in the process. She was genuinely interested in the place she traveled to and the culture of the people she encountered. Her observations make for a treasure trove for historians and sociologists alike.

In a more literary bent in the 1920s, consider André Gide's Travels in the Congo and a delightful memoir Then I Saw the Congo by Grace Flandrau. The book covers tend to follow a distinct pattern.

• The Shadow of the Sun by Ryszard Kapuściński
• Report in Africa by Oden Meeker
• Call Africa 999 by John Peer Nugent
• Stringer by Anjan Sundaram

(I hesitate to brand Kapuściński as a journalist, he was so much more. The journalistic impulse is, rather, what I'm getting at when it comes to the tenor of his writings. Denis Johnson in Seek treads much of the same terrain as Kapuściński but with a stronger punch).

How to take to the tropics is a delicious survey of travel writing in Africa by Oden Meeker. His and John Peer Nugent books are recent discoveries, wide ranging as befits these restless souls. Anjan Sundaram's Stringer follows Conrad by way of investigative journalism, archetypal of the mold of journalists that have had to report on conflict (e.g Fergal Keane).

African Perspectives

The Wife has long taught an African Travel Narratives course; we, each, have our favorites and trade new finds as we discover them. Our modern canon:

• An African in Greenland by Tété-Michel Kpomassie
• By the Sea, Desertion and Paradise by Abdulrazak Gurnah
• Everyday is for the thief by Teju Cole
• A Stranger's Pose by Emmanuel Iduma

A semester length course will cover readings in many styles and from many perspectives. The ones we tend to find most engaging highlight the African perspective. And things do change once African voices are in the mix.

An African in Greenland is revelatory, Tété-Michel Kpomassie's story is so engaging, he grabs you with the force of his personality, his curiousity and his drive.

Abdulrazak Gurnah, of course, in his brilliant body of work inverts the perspective and the frame that Conrad may have set and, with this freedom, makes it his own. I've lost count of how many copies of By the Sea I've had to buy as I keep recommending and gifting it to others. I'm thankful that the academy have rightly rewarded him and I no longer need to be on the street team.

A novel like Tayeb Salih's Season of Migration to the North contains a lot travel observations but doesn't read as a traditional travel narrative and indeed there is far more sophistication in it.

Our blog era has produced two perfect little books in the genre. Teju Cole aims for close observation in Everyday is for the Thief while Emmanuel Iduma goes for the poetic in A Stranger's Pose. They are both lyrical writers with dauntingly sharp eyes.

It's fun exercise to contrast, say, The Moor's Account by Laila Lalami with Mimi and Toutou's Big Adventure: The Bizarre Battle of Lake Tanganyika by Giles Foden. The one written from the ground up and periphery, the other taken with main character energy.

And the narratives ripped from archival material carry a heavier burden that the typical travel dispatch, I'm thinking of The Two Hearts of Kwasi Boachi by Arthur Japin or say Ama: A Story of the Atlantic Slave Trade by Manu Herbstein - there's no lightness to be found in the slave trade or the earlier patterns of exchange in the colonial era.

I never quite got into the former Peace Corps memoirs although I keep reading them for what they reveal despite themselves (and George Packer's clear-eyed Village of Waiting - and Central Square which I loved, doesn't excuse his later hubris see: Iraq war).

Still I much prefer Packer over Paul Theroux's Dark Star Safari. And in the same vein, I favor Graham Greene over V.S. Naipaul.

I also can't resist missionary and explorer narratives, even as I read them in the same vein, mostly for what is left unsaid or for the people that linger in the background. Sometimes, however, you find gems in second hand bookstores: Cowboy Boots in Darkest Africa by Dr Bill Rice is an all-time favorite. But that one, like Belloc's Modern Traveller, deserves its own tale.

There's all that and more in The Traveler's Africa. And to close, a cautionary note to the would-be readers of travel narratives; not all is as it seems:

T
for the Genial Tourist, who resides
In Peckham where he writes Italian Guides

Moral
Learn from this information not to cavil
At slight mistakes on books on foreign travel

— A Moral Alphabet by Hilaire Belloc

What are your favorite Africa travel narratives?

African Travel Narratives, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Traveling by Burning Spear
• Africa by D'Angelo
• Traveling Miles by Cassandra Wilson
• Vasco Da Gama by Hugh Masekala
  The chorus goes "He was no friend of mine"
• Congo by Amel Larrieux
• Torrid zone by Nucleus
• River Niger by War
• Explorations by Lonnie Liston Smith
• Africa by Toto
• The natives are restless tonight by Horace Silver
• Afrodisia by Kenny Dorham
• Africa by Abbey Lincoln & Max Roach
• Travelin' light by Shirley Horn
• River Niger by Roy Ayers
• Tropical zone by Angel David Mattos
• Columbus by Burning Spear
  Cheating here perhaps, but one can never have enough Burning Spear
• Torrid zone by The Afro Soul-Tet
• Great explorer by Louis Smith
• Torrid zone by Andre King
• Dr Livingstone, I presume by Moody Blues
• Torrid zone by Timmy Thomas
• Great explorers by David Burns

Bonus beats: Searching by Roy Ayers

See also Types and Faces and The Stereotype

File under: travel, writing, storytelling, literature, review, appreciation, culture, observation, perception, Africa, history, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log: November 2, 2025

Fumes

"The streets of Berkeley are paved with weed"
The Wife's wry rejoinder to a friend's laconic quip:
"The streets of Harlem are paved with weave"
Indeed, gentrification hasn't affected the surfeit of wigs

The Senegalese and Gambian vendors proffer the hair products
Essential oils - massage, incense and herbs with vital aromas
Nighttime potency assured, all that is missing is the candles
Spoil yourself, pomade, scent of argan oil
What strange brews, mystical even, we throw on our hair
Fake Rolexes and Gucci knockoffs - Versace misspelled on the label
Don't look too closely, fast talkers on 125th Street make their pitch
"Boss, we can make a deal, okay, tell you what, tell me your last price.."

But back to Berkeley, we lived around the block from Wavy Gravy's commune
He, the MC of Woodstock fame, the Summer of Love,
Hippie consciences, sustainability pledges
Farm to table, organic everything, ecological awareness
More conscious than thou, earnest as kettle oatmeal
Puff then, fumes, scent of marijuana
What strange fruit of the progressives
Goody Two Shoes, home of the gluten free
Righteous living, just a few miles north of Fruitvale Station

Fumes, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Wavy Gravy by Kenny Burrell
• Freedom Jazz Dance by Eddie Harris
• The Hustler by Stanley Turrentine
• Hair by Graham Central Station
• Street Corner Hustler Blues by Lou Rawls

File under: culture, observation, perception, Berkeley, New York, city, humour, sensory, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: January 15, 2023

The Drunken Toddler

A cautionary tale perhaps, my earliest memory is of being drunk
At the Christmas party, this almost 3 year old had been quite industrious
Drinking the bottom of the various glasses that the guests were imbibing
A cocktail of sharp tasting liquids, the base materials of my experiment
Until my vision blurred and the alcohol had its effect.

"My head is round"

Apparently my declaration of inhibition
   Caused alarm among the partygoers
Spoiled the festivities frankly
   The adventures of the drunken toddler

Parents, never rest on your laurels,
   Keep a close watch on your offspring
In the event, a wellspring of visions, promptly hung over,
   I counted the cost
Mum's red mini loomed large in the driveway,
   Its googly eyes staring at me
Spinning, eyes wide open, walls expanding,
   the whole world was collapsing

That'll teach you right

I've found virtue in moderation ever since
Those fever dreams and hallucinations
An early lesson in buyer's remorse
Staggered straight to bed
Never to be repeated
   The case of the drunken toddler

Punch Drunk, a playlist

A playlist on a loss of inhibition. (spotify version)

• Only When I'm Drunk by Tha Alkaholiks
• One More Drink by Jaguar Wright
• Punch Drunk by Sade
• Drunk As Cooter Brown by Cassandra Wilson
• This World is Drunk by Raphael Saadiq
• I Want to Take You Higher by Sly & The Family Stone

File under: life, observation, culture, perception, alcohol, memory, humour, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: December 30, 2022

Drone Operator

20/20 vision is a minimum, the requirement is nigh perfect eyesight
Also an ability to forget mistakes, perfection is a matter of hindsight
Twitchy sharp reactions, prior experience required with video games
Competitive and driven, a team player who is willing to inflict pain

The best candidates are baby faced, call them bloodless assassins
On-the-job training provides numerous opportunities to crash weddings
With major flexibility in working hours, you can embrace the impromptu
And enforce the home truth: "Visit America before America visits you"

A tapestry of pixels pored over for distinctive signals
A keen test of reflexes as you launch the predator missile
GPS-directed, with spotter verification to paint the target
Like the Brimstone missile, the system is designed for "fire-and-forget"

Working at a remove from the ground action
Remote control, pushing buttons with abandon
The bearer holds to the belief in things unseen
Detachment of spirit, signature strikes, this is the American dream

Classified findings laid out the executive decrees
Gave the benefit of the shadows, the veil of secrecy
Thus protected by covering memos providing limited liability
A free reign, then, to sow the seeds of excess mortality

Someone who takes pride in their tools, a skilled master
Nicknamed their vessel the mobile widow maker
An early recruit, adept at the drudge of targeted killing
Televised slaughter, quiet as it's kept, can be so thrilling

Yet it's not all fun and games, even with precision munition
This daily front seat, private viewing of target acquisition
Spheres of influence, inventive vehicle for force projection
Delivery platform, artisanal even, for heat-seeking execution

Gamer heroes
Beast mode
Player ratings
Cheat codes

The new warfare, defense authorization for collateral damage
Our benefits package leaves you anesthetized from the foreign carnage
Sharp maneuvers, joystick exertions that satisfy
Pax Americana, raining vengeance out of the sky

Top Secret. The role calls for security clearance with polygraph
Mentoring skills are sought after, you'll be managing junior staff
Pinpoint expertise wrought from a distance while wearing a headset
An exciting workplace, with only the occasional regret

Burn out is a possibility, but is cast as acceptable loss
For this kind of wet work, even at a remove, has its costs
Conscience optional, foot soldier of the war on terror
The clean and delicate hands of the drone operator

Drone Operator, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Remote Control by Loose Ends
• Out of the sky by Van Hunt
• Cold Blooded by Rick James
• I've Committed Murder by Macy Gray
• Cold Blooded by Common
• Remote Control by Beastie Boys
• Cold Blooded by Gary Clark Jr.
• From a Distance by Bette Midler
• Kill Screen by Shadow Shadow
• Automaton by Jamiroquai
• Drone Operator's Lament by Radarcave

Bonus beats albeit very destabilizing: The Loneliness of the Long Distance Killer by The Meteors

File under: humour, satire, hatchet job, blood, war, alienation, modernity, USA, politics, culture, outrage, observation, perception, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: December 18, 2022

Response Consultant

America bestows gifts
To its favored sons
But exacts a heavy price

Giving rise to job titles that confound,
The nature of the dream is a patent lie
This land of plenty
Dispenses the characteristic headline:

"Active shooter response consultant shares insight"

Threat readiness, crisis training.
Developing situational awareness
Uneasy phrases marketing a lucrative industry.
A growing corporate business

A proud legacy
This bloody exceptionalism,
The fruit of tribal sacrifice

A balm of thoughts and prayers
In this austere ceremony
Roaring while closing one's eyes

After: Retired police officer, active shooter response consultant shares insight after Walmart shooting

Tuesday’s attack in Chesapeake is the 15th mass shooting location that Marko Galbreath has visited since he began his training.

(November 25, 2022)

Action Items, a playlist

A soundtrack for this lament (spotify version)

• What's Going On by Marvin Gaye
• Right and a Wrong Way by Keith Sweat
• Prayer by D'Angelo
• The Moment I Feared by Slick Rick

See previously: Action Items and Prone

File under: USA, blood, violence, absurd, culture, observation, modernity, perception, language, bureaucracy, corporation, work, life, poetry, outrage, The Rough Beast, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log: November 26, 2022

The Kangaroo Problem

The test fleet had been taken to Australia the previous week
My colleagues, two cubes over, were all aflutter, I asked, "What gives?"
It was the kangaroo problem, I was told. I was rather bemused
For it seems that the autonomous vehicles were rather confused

You see, they had come across some of those long eared creatures
Beasts of burden, sporting those unmistakable features
But they were a new breed in their eyes, the term of art, unknown objects
Simply put, the recognition engine wasn't able to easily detect
Something about the gait and motion of the kangaroos they encountered
The road less traveled, in other words, had left the cars flustered

So now the data scientists were looking for more training data
In a bid to augment the intelligence of the onboard sensors
Scouring National Geographic and YouTube
  to update their detection algorithms
Loading up hours of videos of marsupials
  to finetune the classification schemes

Why did the chicken cross the road?
 Are you blind? It was a kangaroo
Consider, if you will, when a large object starts moving towards you
It seemed to me that the nature of the calculation was rather clear
That it shouldn't matter whether it was a kangaroo or a drunken deer

That any human driver out of caution would seek to avoid collision
Evasive action was clearly called for in this kind of situation
No matter how loping its gait, I'd hope, or how eccentric its motion
Avoid impact and ask questions later, was surely the solution

In this fraught scenario of exigency
 there'd be no time for semantics
Boffins, instead, were bent on reducing things
  down to matters of semiotics
When ontologies raise their specter,
 I rather fear you might be losing the plot
Meanwhile, over their shoulders,
  I saw the visualizations, the bounding boxes
True, they spoke at some length about the determinants
 of stopping distance
At the back of my mind, I recalled the wisdom
 of buying collision insurance

As to the tangible limitations of this artificial intelligence
How to teach the ghost in the machine to learn how to sense
To move beyond the basics of calculating velocity and acceleration
Plotting feasible trajectories while being mindful of sensor calibration
Lessons in obstacle avoidance, the perils of synthesized perception
A panoply of newfangled electronic equipment: cameras, radar, lidar
A catalog of known objects: car, truck, pedestrian, guardrail or barrier
Even in this hostile environment, prudence, protect the least of us
Rodent or marsupial was beside the point, let alone a desert fox
Surely a safety policy would be that you shouldn't hit the bus

The real world is highly unstructured,
  one can hardly play fast and loose
Object identity is rather academic,
 whether horse, camel, donkey or moose
On a grand tour of Mongolia,
 you might run into a herd of cashmere goats
The prime imperative of driving on the road:
  active safety foremost

The state of the art, then, of machine learning is no great panacea
Expect the unexpected, deal gracefully with chaos and disorder
What with near misses or close encounters in Peru with errant llama
Let alone the outrageous daily scenes you meet on an African street
Routine maintenance, force majeure, life is a veritable bestiary
A human marketplace replete with vibrant textures and shapes
The kangaroo problem was the tip of an iceberg of category mistakes

...


Activity, aflutter, what strange creature is this?
Elliptical motion, elusive, proudly prominent proboscis
Apt to be misconstrued, roaming, bounding without effort
Near collision, operator intervention, he filed the incident report
In the aftermath, then, the root cause analysis
Prompting among the boffins an identity crisis

Kangaroo Problem, a playlist

A autonomous soundtrack for this note. Drive safely. (spotify version)

• Can't you see me? by Roy Ayers
• He miss road by Fela
• You don't see me by Amel Larrieux
• Make the road by walking by Menahan Street Band
• Drive by The Cars
• Road Safety by Tony Allen
• (I'm a) Road Runner by Junior Walker
• Sensitivity by Ralph Tresvant
• Drive my car by The Beatles
• Chicken trying to cross the road by Buddhafunk
• Road runner by Bo Diddley

...

This entry on failure modes is part of the Toli Technology Series

...

Cultural Sensitivity in Technology is my perennial theme; everything is local and sensor calibration is paramount...

File under: humour, technology, culture, observation, perception, classification, robocars, software, algorithms, sensitivity, best practices, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log. Concept March 2018. December 14, 2022

Dark Milestones

A dark milestone, they said, and a "terrible toll"
A profound loss repeated so many times is awful
Easy words out of the mouth of these opportunists
Spewed in profusion as a shield for their mistakes

Their blather rather underscored the lack of concern
As if one could be saved by platitudinous laments
What was once unthinkable became the norm,
 we heard of incalculable loss
Mass extinction on a regular basis, so many were paying the cost

The unending daily tallies were duly consigned to the middle pages
We heard of fatigue and, after false starts, a return to normalcy
Time to move on, they said, we should resign ourselves to mass death
Fatalistic even when the evidence showed that things could be mitigated

The brief moment of solidarity had passed,
 the clapping and shared sacrifice
It was all up to individual choice,
 people should be left to their own devices
The previous narratives reasserted themselves
 in this renewed torrid zone
The rest is history, all that remained was to mark the dark milestones

After a dark milestone (January 2022)

See previously A Panoply of Mistakes a year earlier

Wrong, a playlist

I might as well recycle the previous playlist, nothing changed in the interim, only the body count. (spotify version)

This internal displacement is part of a series: In a covidious time.

File under: failure, coronavirus, pandemic, hypocrisy, outrage, hatchet job, culture, observation, England, incompetence, politics, language, humour, Observers are worried, Buyer's Remorse, covidious, poetry, toli

Writing log. Concept: January 10, 2022. June 1, 2022

High Wire Act

It takes considerable effort to appear effortless performing a complex task; we all applaud the display of excellence.

It takes no considerable effort for a high flyer or leader to fail miserably; we all laugh at the display of incompetence.

The walk of life is a tightrope.

High Wire Act, a playlist

A funky playlist for this note. (spotify version)

• Live Wire by The Meters
• So Tight by Rick James
• Tightrope by Junie Morrison
• Tightrope by Janalle Monae and Big Boi

File under: life, culture, observation, perception, aphorisms, zingers, humour, failure, Observers are worried, toli,

Writing log: February 22, 2021

Shakedown (Part π Pay the Piper)

A new variant by any other name, this one came in many disguises
The claims adjuster decided that naming it Pi was not needed for this crisis
Let things evolve independently, trust in the process of natural selection
Buyer beware, humanity had been given fair warning about the threat of mutations

Thus he released a swarm of new ailments, troubling in their variety
Escape artists altogether adept at evading mitigations in their entirety
Cerberus, Centaurus, Hydra, the nicknames were telling for this pressure group
A cloud of stealthy lineages with growth advantages, some called them grief soup

Unlike the angels, the claims adjuster was not possessed with a rhadamanthine spirit
A pragmatic sort, he considered all arguments he beheld strictly on their merits
He was not averse to give and take, he would agree to reasonable accommodation
The caveat in his dealings was that he could not tolerate duty abrogation

He heard the elevator pitches from the delegates of the Ushers
Rather full of pretension, they had aspirations of grandeur
Some griots might label their posturing as akin to erstwhile Pharisees
When, at heart all that drove them was the profit motive and its sanctity

The law was for their friends, often irrelevant, and applied selectively
But, when it came to their enemies, they expected strict severity
Onerous, they loaded their side of the scale, the contest was unequal
Yet, by their rhetoric, they were worthy victors, men of the people

Justice from their point of view was merely a gesture
To be ignored in the heat of the deal at their leisure
Enamored of exclusivity, they wanted the lion's share of the pie
Indeed, theirs was a policy towards others of default deny

Inscrutable obstacles they erected, what mattered was who paid the piper
Impenetrable defenses, secret codes that were impossible to decipher
Poised between despair and folly, it was the reign of the incurious
A sad state of affairs when ignorance was the prevailing consensus

...

Third time's the charm, Ananse decided to let his comperes lead the delegation
There was no need, with these careless Ushers, for a personal intervention
Sika, with her actuarial prowess, essentially promised an investment safe harbor
The chief linguist and head scribe plainly assumed that everything was in order

They hadn't realized that their old playbook had been rendered obsolete
Without a reappraisal, they were well and truly heading for defeat
Concerted action, and, most of all, cooperation, was what was needed
But alas, short-sightedness meant that a decisive response was impeded

Shakedown, the Ushers hadn't realized they'd been placed in a straitjacket
For Ananse had devised the ultimate shell game, a kind of protection racket
And by playing them off the gods and the claims adjuster with his mystic brew
He wouldn't even need to seek to hustle the other tribes for further revenue

...

Out of Agona always something new went the old saying
Life in the torrid zone was brutish, harsh and often dismaying
But constraints and necessity seemed to foster invention
Moreover they accepted the value of an ounce of prevention

They'd had to keep their heads down throughout the crisis
Having meager rations of even the most basic prophylaxis
Luckily their old ways, living mostly outdoors, conferred a few advantages
But as normalcy was reasserted they would slowly lose those temporary privileges

They realized they had a long journey ahead but now had better examples
Eyes open, they'd seen what the Wan tribe could achieve by being sensible
That flashy appeals, seductive as they may have been, were no substitute for planning
That by staying the course they could perhaps leapfrog development and continue advancing

...

And so back to the Ushers, Dear Reader,
  how would they handle the weight?
Truth be told, it was only on the matter of form
 that there was a little debate
Since their herd immunity was to shame, they were hardly blameless
The claims adjuster was under no obligation to make things painless

Nyame observed their insatiable appetites,
 incorrigible, they continued to misbehave
Altogether irrational behavior,
 they would soon look back fondly on the second wave
The gathering storm was on hand
 and there was a clear deficit of disaster relief
The tale of the lost stories,
 they'd now have to abide with the laws of grief

The tipping point was the specter of the looming claims adjuster
Which impressed on the majority how close they had come to disaster
A bitter lesson learned, they would be consigned to internal displacement
For not having heeded the warning: greed always brings its own punishment

Shakedown, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Shake you Down by Gregory Abbott
• People get Ready by Brand New Heavies
• Risin' to the Top by Keni Burke
• Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by The Jacksons
• Let's Get Back to Love by Loose Ends
• Shakedown by Brand New Heavies
• Your Mess by Omar
• (If You Ain't) Comfortable by Lynden David Hall
• Soul Shakedown Party by Bob Marley
• Shake Down Blues by Blind Boy Fuller
• Shake Down by Evelyn "Champagne" King

See previously Shakedown Part 1, Protection Racket Part 2 and A Modern Bestiary Part 3


The Soul Insurance suite of folktales:

• Soul Insurance
• Buyer's Remorse
• Shakedown

File under: humour, satire, culture, observation, folktale, Ananse, storytelling, whimsy, myth, coronavirus, pandemic, Social Living, Things Fall Apart, Observers are worried, Buyer's Remorse, hatchet job, covidious, poetry, toli

Writing log. October 9, 2022

Shakedown (Part III A Modern Bestiary)

Everything is local but, for once, the tables were turned
A global calamity, a clear opportunity for lessons to be learned
The shakedown had clarified a taxonomy of optimists and pessimists
A hierarchy of outlooks astride the great game of power and politics

Some put their faith in the state, the competence of the chiefs was unquestioned
A matter of organization, for their high priesthood, of rules and regulations
Call them optimists, the power of the collective was their proving ground
Leading by example, with a touch of advocacy, the rest would come around

Their leading lights lived mainly in the environs of Chwedru, to the east
The Wan tribe had a strict policy of zero tolerance for social diseases
Clear-eyed about the efficacy of doctrine, and serious, they brooked no loose ends
A coterie of technocrats at heart bent on engineering the right dividends

The other side of the coin, protectionist by nature, craved independence
Closed borders, crass provincialism, the very antithesis of openness
Nationalists of a sort, touting the virtues of self-sufficiency
Fatalistic opinions, a dim view of the prospects for humanity

Still, never let a crisis go to waste, it was a buying opportunity
This foundational insight lay at the very heart of their identity
Caricatured as common vultures, feasting on the carrion of catastrophe
Danger lay everywhere, only the paranoid survived latent vulnerability

These others, Ushers mostly, believed strongly that it was every man for himself
Effective cooperation was a pipe dream, they thought, it simply couldn't be helped
They would always make the best of a bad situation
Seeking every advantage to enhance their position

All of the three tribes of humanity were afflicted with disaster capitalists
It seemed quite clear that there was an influential cohort of catastrophists
Who would squeeze the lifeblood, the very essence, at every opportunity
The last gasps were their rightful due, profits, the fruits of inequality

Black gold to extract, fodder for crown jewels
They believed in the reign of the righteous few
Going by past evidence, they were certain that their position would be strengthened
Indeed the tensions of the present moment rather heightened the contradictions

Armed with trickle down bromides out of the mouth of juju tricksters
Dispensing sweet lies, the opiates of the masses, voodoo elixirs
With marketing prowess in abundance, masters of the art of the deal
Those rubes in the torrid zone would surely succumb to their appeal

And even the less cynical thought that a technological fix was in order
The medicine men and the panoply of scribes would surely find a panacea
And even if the notion of herd immunity had proved to be a chimera
The lesson was clear: error is a poor friend but an excellent teacher

The stage was set, the afflictions of the gods had raised a challenge
Would humanity, in the face of such different postures, be able to manage?
Between those who expected fundamental change and even better days ahead
Or those who were bent on consolidation amidst social upheaval instead

Shakedown, jostling for power, a radical restructuring
Which way would the tribes go in the face of this testing?
The challenge had been raised, now it was down to performance
Those who seemed best prepared had paid their soul insurance

Shakedown, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

See previously Shakedown Part 1 and Protection Racket Part 2

Next in Part π Pressure Group, new variants on the horizon


File under: humour, satire, culture, observation, folktale, Ananse, storytelling, whimsy, myth, coronavirus, pandemic, Social Living, Things Fall Apart, Observers are worried, Buyer's Remorse, hatchet job, covidious, poetry, toli

Writing log. October 7, 2022

Shakedown (Part II Protection Racket)

Ananse was a folk etymologist at heart, a man of the people
The spider kept his ear to the ground as he considered the sequel
What glorious phrase would future scribes use to coin his next endeavor?
How to top his previous mischief and count the ways in which he was clever

Shakedown - rather than a search, a process or a period of adjustment
The definition of shakedown that he preferred was readily apparent
He'd done it repeatedly, the squeeze plays of yore had come to fruition
Yes indeed, he was ready to embark on another instance of subtle extortion

He recalled that the chief linguist of the Ushers was a man of few principles
Indeed, he'd tried to cut him out of the earlier deal, the dirty rotten scoundrel
Functional defenestration was the prospect now that his red lines had been crossed
For a toothless dog contents itself with licking the bones it is tossed

Never one to forget a slight, he resolved to press ahead with his approach
He would emphasize that his no pressure tactics were beyond reproach
Add a sweetener, mention that his policies came with an extended warranty
Throw in a no fault clause or even, if need be, a money back guarantee

Along with Sika the actuary, he prepared the shape of the package
Not that he expected them to do due diligence, that he could manage
No, the threat raised of the claims adjuster's wrath would be the stern stick
Their thoughtful words, honeyed at that, would be the carrot that would mislead

This had all the makings of the ultimate protection racket
For the Ushers had painted themselves as an attractive target
Preparation was all, he would engage every option as a backup plan
Fifi, that young wastrel, duly suborned, would be his inside man

Of course, he would structure the transaction with opaque layers
They would be unable to perceive the extent of their betrayal
By the time they would discover the deception, it would be too late
And the mortification at their now-obvious failure would be great

Ananse was mindful of the old proverb that explained it best
Namely that when a farmer is clearing a path in the forest,
It is only somebody else who stands behind them - and this was the insight
Who can actually tell that the path is veering to the left or the right

With sleight of hand, misdirection and other elements of deceit
What they believed was immaterial, what mattered was their conceit
Such were the main tricks of the trade, along with a touch of hyperbole
All of which worked to confound, relying on the inability to properly see

If indeed beauty and greed lay in the eye of the beholder
Ananse held that blindness and conceit were the prey of the deceiver
While it was said that the best cons were elegantly wrought
Experience taught that you should always check what you bought

Shakedown, then, the lynchpin of Ananse's strategy
Shakedown, mindful of humanity's peculiarities
Shake down and see who is ultimately left standing
Shake them down, they were headed for a hard landing

The Ushers fancied themself sophisticates and rugged individualists
Unable to consider the collective, they simply ignored systemic risk
A disastrous posture when the gods were set on testing their mettle
Force majeure, market turmoil would reveal the extent of the bezzle

Shakedown, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)


See previously Shakedown Part 1

Next in Part 3 A Bestiary of Sorts

File under: humour, satire, culture, observation, folktale, Ananse, storytelling, whimsy, myth, coronavirus, pandemic, Social Living, Things Fall Apart, Observers are worried, Buyer's Remorse, hatchet job, covidious, poetry, toli

Writing log. October 6, 2022

Shakedown

To the gods, the evidence was clear, if not incontrovertible
That humanity had decided to forgo the mosquito principle
For their appetites were proving to be, as advertised, insatiable
They were content to accept losses that were once said to be incalculable

Without skipping a beat, some had even returned to their violent ways
Unable to suppress their pathologies, they had been counting the days
Lining up conquests to embark on and making blunt threats of annexation
The specter of grievous calamity, they roundly dismissed as mere vexation

The poisoned chalice of free will was such that you could choose to be insane
But after a fair warning, the punishment due was the application of pain
By this stage, the claims adjuster was well practiced so he remained patient
After all, enforcing the gods' will was only a matter of launching a new variant

Still it was rather puzzling, the situation that humanity faced
The nature of their hubris, the bravado and confidence misplaced
Rather than accept the lessons of the global pause and embrace solidarity
Their vision of the new world order was strictly limited to the pecuniary

The commercial among them had taken extreme measures to preserve their interests
The profit imperative had blinded them to sense and made them thoroughly reckless
Business never personal, went their mantra, easy money, unearned rents
The prospect of a hard day's work for them was simply without precedent

As to the gods, the minds of Nyame and Nyankopon were firmly set on a shakedown
To place humanity under continued scrutiny, a kind of metaphorical lockdown
A thoroughgoing investigation of their tendency to be reckless
What central bankers in these modern times might call a stress test

Odomankoma and Asase Yaa, on this matter, were more tolerant and considerate
Laissez faire by inclination, theirs was a light touch take on this debate
Willing to cut humanity a little slack so long as they didn't make a fuss
And even more if they made good faith efforts to protect the least of us

And one could point to a few signs of realignment
The picture was mixed, it was not all disappointment
One heard in parts of some amount of forbearance
Cutting through perhaps, the lessons of soul insurance

But there were limits, and these turned on matters of integrity
It wouldn't do to allow rank sin and iniquity
Agency was one thing but it was hard to abide hypocrisy
After all, the phrase did have meaning: excessive liability

Nyame took the lead in enforcement and made to summon the claims adjuster
This last reassured the god that plans were well advanced for humanity's next chapter
Indeed before long they'd be cast as stars of modern day horror stories
Staffing shortages and supply chain snafus would be the least of their worries

Still, Nyame reiterated that due process must be followed
Nyankopon added that the social fabric need not be hollowed
That lip service be paid to probity in as much as could be managed
Although the response from the gods must, of necessity, be seen to be savage

The claims adjuster agreed that it was time to put his foot down
And set about to put into high gear the plans for the shakedown
Serendipity, as far as variants went, he'd now reached the magic number
Pi, archaic though it may be, it would give them something to remember

Shakedown, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Shake you Down by Gregory Abbott
• People get Ready by Brand New Heavies
• Risin' to the Top by Keni Burke
• Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by The Jacksons
• Let's Get Back to Love by Loose Ends
• Shakedown by Brand New Heavies
• Your Mess by Omar
• (If You Ain't) Comfortable by Lynden David Hall
• Soul Shakedown Party by Bob Marley
• Shake Down Blues by Blind Boy Fuller
• Shake Down by Evelyn "Champagne" King

Next in Part II Protection Racket, Ananse seeks easy profits and Part III A Modern Bestiary, a book of beasts.

See the previous covidious folktales: Soul Insurance and Buyer's Remorse

File under: humour, satire, culture, observation, folktale, Ananse, storytelling, whimsy, myth, coronavirus, pandemic, Social Living, Things Fall Apart, Observers are worried, Buyer's Remorse, hatchet job, covidious, poetry, toli

Writing log. October 5, 2022