Another one of those stories — from the Associated Press: “A Nevada couple letting their SUV’s navigation system guide them through high desert of Eastern Oregon got stuck in snow for three days when the GPS unit sent them down a remote forest road.”
Fortunately, they were prepared for being stranded — food, water, warm clothes — and they made it okay, with a memorable Christmas under their belts.
We’ve heard this one before. Several people have got stuck on the McKenzie Highway here in the Sisters Country because the GPS told them that was the route to take — never mind the signs that say “Road Closed.”
There’s a story about a couple of guys in Poland who drove into a lake because the GPS pointed them at it. But that couldn’t be true, right?
Stories like this play right into my suspicions about technology. GPS is pretty cool. I like having all the information even a basic unit provides.
However... the technology is seductive. Ah, how easy to grow complacent. Let’s cut through here. We can always follow the bread crumbs back to camp, right?
Relying on your GPS instead of low-tech techniques like map-and-compass and common sense (know your route before you take it, etc.) is a good way to get yourself in trouble.
Then again...
The couple was rescued after they finally got a weak signal on their — GPS enabled — cell phone and rescuers were able to locate them.
“GPS almost did ’em in and GPS saved ’em,” said Klamath County Sheriff Tim Evinger.
A perfect illustration of a double-edged sword. Writ large, it’s a metaphor for the role of technology in our lives. Do we run it, or does it run us?
Jim Cornelius, Editor
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Joyeux Noel
On Christmas Eve, December 24, 1914, a strange thing happened in several sectors of the trench line that cut across Belgium and France.
The allied English, Scottish and French soldiers, and the German troops facing them across a recently-established No Man’s Land, spontaneously laid down their arms, stood up in their trenches and walked out into that beaten, corpse-strewn zone of death. They greeted each other in a cautious, then friendly, expression of the season’s spirit.
They exchanged chocolate and cigarettes, showed each other pictures of wives and girlfriends, drank together and even engaged in impromptu religious observances and at least one informal soccer match.
In some sectors, the informal truce lasted only part of a day. In others, it is said to have lasted, more or less, until New Year’s.
It was a brief — and for many participants profoundly moving — moment in that maddest of wars, the one they called The Great War until a still greater one that it set in motion eclipsed its unique horrors a generation later.
The High Commands on both sides took a very dim view of such fraternization with the enemy and steps were taken to ensure that no repeat of the spontaneous Christmas Truce occurred again. Years of savage, industrial slaughter also seared away the vestiges of fellow-feeling that still existed in that first Christmas of the war.
But ever since that night in 1914, the Christmas Truce has loomed large as a moment of humanity amidst a numbingly inhuman conflict, a flash of sanity in a world gone suddenly and perhaps irrevocably insane.
Each Christmas season, my family watches the beautiful 2005 French film about the Christmas Truce, “Joyeux Noel.”
It is as powerful a Christmas story as you can find, a hopeful, yet tragic, reminder of the true value of the season: a moment to celebrate the fellowship of man.
A Joyeux Noel to all of you and yours.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
The allied English, Scottish and French soldiers, and the German troops facing them across a recently-established No Man’s Land, spontaneously laid down their arms, stood up in their trenches and walked out into that beaten, corpse-strewn zone of death. They greeted each other in a cautious, then friendly, expression of the season’s spirit.
They exchanged chocolate and cigarettes, showed each other pictures of wives and girlfriends, drank together and even engaged in impromptu religious observances and at least one informal soccer match.
In some sectors, the informal truce lasted only part of a day. In others, it is said to have lasted, more or less, until New Year’s.
It was a brief — and for many participants profoundly moving — moment in that maddest of wars, the one they called The Great War until a still greater one that it set in motion eclipsed its unique horrors a generation later.
The High Commands on both sides took a very dim view of such fraternization with the enemy and steps were taken to ensure that no repeat of the spontaneous Christmas Truce occurred again. Years of savage, industrial slaughter also seared away the vestiges of fellow-feeling that still existed in that first Christmas of the war.
But ever since that night in 1914, the Christmas Truce has loomed large as a moment of humanity amidst a numbingly inhuman conflict, a flash of sanity in a world gone suddenly and perhaps irrevocably insane.
Each Christmas season, my family watches the beautiful 2005 French film about the Christmas Truce, “Joyeux Noel.”
It is as powerful a Christmas story as you can find, a hopeful, yet tragic, reminder of the true value of the season: a moment to celebrate the fellowship of man.
A Joyeux Noel to all of you and yours.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Hats off to the line crews
Central Electric Cooperative has had its nose bloodied in court — and in the court of public opinion — in recent months.
Some of the utility’s actions haven’t been too popular, especially in the Sisters Country. Tall steel power poles and massive new substations in the back yard are bound to raise the ire of neighbors.
But whatever you might think of CEC’s recent projects, you can’t fault the dedication and hard work of the crews that responded to last week’s power emergency.
While those of us who lost power due to a catastrophic equipment failure got up, shivered, cussed, and tried to figure out how to get the house warm and cook some breakfast, those crews were already out in brutal cold, figuring out just what had gone wrong and getting repairs underway.
Some of those crews were out for 24 hours in subzero cold, nursing the system back to life a little at a time.
We’d all rather the power didn’t go out in the first place. We’d all like to see it come back faster once repairs are made. But we should all be grateful for the will to work through the problem, despite bone-chilling cold and long hours on the part of line crews and the support staff that helped keep them in the field.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
Some of the utility’s actions haven’t been too popular, especially in the Sisters Country. Tall steel power poles and massive new substations in the back yard are bound to raise the ire of neighbors.
But whatever you might think of CEC’s recent projects, you can’t fault the dedication and hard work of the crews that responded to last week’s power emergency.
While those of us who lost power due to a catastrophic equipment failure got up, shivered, cussed, and tried to figure out how to get the house warm and cook some breakfast, those crews were already out in brutal cold, figuring out just what had gone wrong and getting repairs underway.
Some of those crews were out for 24 hours in subzero cold, nursing the system back to life a little at a time.
We’d all rather the power didn’t go out in the first place. We’d all like to see it come back faster once repairs are made. But we should all be grateful for the will to work through the problem, despite bone-chilling cold and long hours on the part of line crews and the support staff that helped keep them in the field.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
The Real Tiger Woods
“Who knows what any of us would be like after 30 years with no one ever telling you ‘No.’”
A fellow I was working with last weekend said that. He wasn’t talking about Tiger Woods, although we both laughed and agreed he might has well have been.
The sordid Tiger Woods scandal is different only in degree, not in kind, from dozens of other scandals involving athletes, actors, politicians, preachers — all men of power and prestige, who are too often coddled and enabled by Yes Men (and apparently lots of Yes Women as well).
So, there’s obviously something to what my friend says. Fame, fortune and power obviously contribute to narcissism.
But my creed is that character is fate. The seeds of narcissism have to be there in the first place to grow into the giant weed that is Tiger Woods’ character.
Of course there are enormous temptations placed in the path of the wealthy, the powerful, the talented, the beautiful and the famous. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing inherently wrong with indulging yourself in those temptations. Unless you’re living a lie, preaching or displaying one set of public values and virtues while privately practicing ... something else.
Until you make a promise to another person.
Private matter? You go out of your way to make yourself a public figure, you flash your dazzling smile across TV screens across the world and reap the enormous financial rewards of creating a public persona then complain when your own actions crack the facade and give your public a glimpse behind the curtain? Come on. That’s just one more layer of hypocrisy.
Honesty, integrity, authenticity — these are marks of character. As humans, we sometimes fall short of our best character. We make mistakes. The heart — or the mind and the body — strays.
But Tiger Woods didn’t make a “mistake.” He made choices, tried to cover them up and projected an image of a devoted son, husband and father, an incredibly gifted athlete with a charmed life.
That’s not having your character twisted by years of nobody telling you “No” and too many women saying “Yes.” It’s not “sex addiction” or some other form of psychological disorder. That’s just hypocrisy, self-indulgence and bad character.
The guy’s a bum. We didn’t know it, but he always was.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
A fellow I was working with last weekend said that. He wasn’t talking about Tiger Woods, although we both laughed and agreed he might has well have been.
The sordid Tiger Woods scandal is different only in degree, not in kind, from dozens of other scandals involving athletes, actors, politicians, preachers — all men of power and prestige, who are too often coddled and enabled by Yes Men (and apparently lots of Yes Women as well).
So, there’s obviously something to what my friend says. Fame, fortune and power obviously contribute to narcissism.
But my creed is that character is fate. The seeds of narcissism have to be there in the first place to grow into the giant weed that is Tiger Woods’ character.
Of course there are enormous temptations placed in the path of the wealthy, the powerful, the talented, the beautiful and the famous. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing inherently wrong with indulging yourself in those temptations. Unless you’re living a lie, preaching or displaying one set of public values and virtues while privately practicing ... something else.
Until you make a promise to another person.
Private matter? You go out of your way to make yourself a public figure, you flash your dazzling smile across TV screens across the world and reap the enormous financial rewards of creating a public persona then complain when your own actions crack the facade and give your public a glimpse behind the curtain? Come on. That’s just one more layer of hypocrisy.
Honesty, integrity, authenticity — these are marks of character. As humans, we sometimes fall short of our best character. We make mistakes. The heart — or the mind and the body — strays.
But Tiger Woods didn’t make a “mistake.” He made choices, tried to cover them up and projected an image of a devoted son, husband and father, an incredibly gifted athlete with a charmed life.
That’s not having your character twisted by years of nobody telling you “No” and too many women saying “Yes.” It’s not “sex addiction” or some other form of psychological disorder. That’s just hypocrisy, self-indulgence and bad character.
The guy’s a bum. We didn’t know it, but he always was.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
The big freeze
Fifteen below is cold enough, I reckon.
The power outage caused by the extreme cold overnight on Monday is causing folks some discomfort. Imagine if a cold snap like this lasted a few days with no power.
An inconvenience quickly turns into an emergency.
Last night’s events are a strong argument for a wood stove and alternative means of cooking food and heating water. And for a backup supply of water if the well pump goes out. And a supply of extra food if the grocery store is closed.
Sure, you can go to the local Red Cross center, but isn’t it better to be prepared to shelter in place? This morning we stoked up the wood stove, fired up the propane burner and boiled some water for coffee, cooked some soup and all was well.
It’ll still be well if there’s no power tonight and the temperature sinks below zero.
Modern conveniences based on electrical power sure are nice, but it doesn’t pay to be totally dependent on them.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
The power outage caused by the extreme cold overnight on Monday is causing folks some discomfort. Imagine if a cold snap like this lasted a few days with no power.
An inconvenience quickly turns into an emergency.
Last night’s events are a strong argument for a wood stove and alternative means of cooking food and heating water. And for a backup supply of water if the well pump goes out. And a supply of extra food if the grocery store is closed.
Sure, you can go to the local Red Cross center, but isn’t it better to be prepared to shelter in place? This morning we stoked up the wood stove, fired up the propane burner and boiled some water for coffee, cooked some soup and all was well.
It’ll still be well if there’s no power tonight and the temperature sinks below zero.
Modern conveniences based on electrical power sure are nice, but it doesn’t pay to be totally dependent on them.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Carnivale
Nugget writer Jeff Spry lent me the first season of the HBO series Carnivale last week and I became an instant addict.
The show is set in 1934 in the Dustbowl and in California, involving two apparently converging story arcs following a traveling carnival and a pastor in California.
It is weird, mythic, dark and compelling viewing and I highly recommend it.
The 1930s were a strange, mad time. The world was going to hell in a bucket and there is something surreal and bizarre about what W.H. Auden called “that low, dishonest decade” that makes it the perfect setting for a tale of strange, mystical, mysterious happenings.
I wonder if people will look back on the current epoch — with the war on terrorism and the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression — with the same sense that the world was strangely off-kilter. Moreso than “normal,” I mean.
There’s certainly enough material to populate a good freak show.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
The show is set in 1934 in the Dustbowl and in California, involving two apparently converging story arcs following a traveling carnival and a pastor in California.
It is weird, mythic, dark and compelling viewing and I highly recommend it.
The 1930s were a strange, mad time. The world was going to hell in a bucket and there is something surreal and bizarre about what W.H. Auden called “that low, dishonest decade” that makes it the perfect setting for a tale of strange, mystical, mysterious happenings.
I wonder if people will look back on the current epoch — with the war on terrorism and the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression — with the same sense that the world was strangely off-kilter. Moreso than “normal,” I mean.
There’s certainly enough material to populate a good freak show.
Jim Cornelius, Editor
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