The Foursquare Blog

A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist.
Louis Nizer, Between You and Me, Beechurst Press, 1948.

There is an aphorism about a farmer who before sunrise on a cold and misty morning, saw a huge beast on a distant hill. He seized his rifle and walked cautiously toward the ogre to head off an attack on his family. When he got nearer, he was relieved to find that the beast was only a small bear. He approached more confidently and when he was within a few hundred yards the distorting haze had lifted sufficiently so that he could recognize the figure as only that of a man. Lowering his rifle, he walked toward the stranger and discovered he was his brother.

Louis Nizer, My Life in Court (1961), p. 443.

Both found on WikiQuote.

"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in..."
Abraham Lincoln, Second Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865

I stumbled across a chapter of Leo Tolstoy's book Youth entitled "Dreams." I enjoyed it so much, I'm copying it here, with a few added paragraph breaks to make reading easier.

"To-day I will make my confession and purge myself of every sin," I thought to myself. "Nor will I ever commit another one." At this point I recalled all the peccadilloes which most troubled my conscience. "I will go to church regularly every Sunday, as well as read the Gospel at the close of every hour throughout the day. What is more, I will set aside, out of the cheque which I shall receive each month after I have gone to the University, two-anda-half roubles" (a tenth of my monthly allowance) "for people who are poor but not exactly beggars, yet without letting any one know anything about it. Yes, I will begin to look out for people like that--orphans or old women--at once, yet never tell a soul what I am doing for them.

"Also, I will have a room here of my very own (St. Jerome`s, probably), and look after it myself, and keep it perfectly clean. I will never let any one do anything for me, for every one is just a human being like myself. Likewise I will walk every day, not drive, to the University. Even if some one gives me a drozhki [Russian carriage or wagon.] I will sell it, and devote the money to the poor. Everything I will do exactly and always" (what that "always" meant I could not possibly have said, but at least I had a vivid consciousness of its connoting some kind of prudent, moral, and irreproachable life).

"I will get up all my lectures thoroughly, and go over all the subjects beforehand, so that at the end of my first course I may come out top and write a thesis. During my second course also I will get up everything beforehand, so that I may soon be transferred to the third course, and at eighteen come out top in the examinations, and receive two gold medals, and go on to be Master of Arts, and Doctor, and the first scholar in Europe. Yes, in all Europe I mean to be the first scholar.--Well, what next?" I asked myself at this point. Suddenly it struck me that dreams of this sort were a form of pride--a sin which I should have to confess to the priest that very evening, so I returned to the original thread of my meditations.

"When getting up my lectures I will go to the Vorobievi Gori, [Sparrow Hills--a public park near Moscow.] and choose some spot under a tree, and read my lectures over there. Sometimes I will take with me something to eat--cheese or a pie from Pedotti`s, or something of the kind. After that I will sleep a little, and then read some good book or other, or else draw pictures or play on some instrument (certainly I must learn to play the flute). Perhaps SHE too will be walking on the Vorobievi Gori, and will approach me one day and say, `Who are you?` and I shall look at her, oh, so sadly, and say that I am the son of a priest, and that I am happy only when I am there alone, quite alone. Then she will give me her hand, and say something to me, and sit down beside me. So every day we shall go to the same spot, and be friends together, and I shall kiss her. But no! That would not be right! On the contrary, from this day forward I never mean to look at a woman again. Never, never again do I mean to walk with a girl, nor even to go near one if I can help it. Yet, of course, in three years` time, when I have come of age, I shall marry.

"Also, I mean to take as much exercise as ever I can, and to do gymnastics every day, so that, when I have turned twenty-five, I shall be stronger even than Rappo. On my first day`s training I mean to hold out half a pood [The Pood = 40 Russian pounds.] at arm`s length for five minutes, and the next day twenty-one pounds, and the third day twenty-two pounds, and so on, until at last I can hold out four poods in each hand, and be stronger even than a porter. Then, if ever any one should try to insult me or should begin to speak disrespectfully of HER, I shall take him so, by the front of his coat, and lift him up an arshin [The arshin = 2 feet 3 inches.] or two with one hand, and just hold him there, so that he may feel my strength and cease from his conduct. Yet that too would not be right. No, no, it would not matter; I should not hurt him, merely show him that I--"

Let no one blame me because the dreams of my youth were as foolish as those of my childhood and boyhood. I am sure that, even if it be my fate to live to extreme old age and to continue my story with the years, I, an old man of seventy, shall be found dreaming dreams just as impossible and childish as those I am dreaming now. I shall be dreaming of some lovely Maria who loves me, the toothless old man, as she might love a Mazeppa; of some imbecile son who, through some extraordinary chance, has suddenly become a minister of state; of my suddenly receiving a windfall of a million of roubles.

I am sure that there exists no human being, no human age, to whom or to which that gracious, consolatory power of dreaming is totally a stranger. Yet, save for the one general feature of magic and impossibility, the dreams of each human being, of each age of man, have their own distinguishing characteristics. At the period upon which I look as having marked the close of my boyhood and the beginning of my youth, four leading sentiments formed the basis of my dreams. The first of those sentiments was love for HER--for an imaginary woman whom I always pictured the same in my dreams, and whom I somehow expected to meet some day and somewhere. This she of mine had a little of Sonetchka in her, a little of Masha as Masha could look when she stood washing linen over the clothes-tub, and a little of a certain woman with pearls round her fair white neck whom I had once seen long, long ago at a theatre, in a box below our own.

My second sentiment was a craving for love. I wanted every one to know me and to love me. I wanted to be able to utter my name--Nicola Irtenieff--and at once to see every one thunderstruck at it, and come crowding round me and thanking me for something or another, I hardly knew what.

My third sentiment was the expectation of some extraordinary, glorious happiness that was impending--some happiness so strong and assured as to verge upon ecstasy. Indeed, so firmly persuaded was I that very, very soon some unexpected chance would suddenly make me the richest and most famous man in the world that I lived in constant, tremulous expectation of this magic good fortune befalling me. I was always thinking to myself that "IT is beginning," and that I should go on thereafter to attain everything that a man could wish for. Consequently, I was for ever hurrying from place to place, in the belief that "IT" must be "beginning" just where I happened not to be.

Lastly, my fourth and principal sentiment of all was abhorrence of myself, mingled with regret--yet a regret so blended with the certain expectation of happiness to which I have referred that it had in it nothing of sorrow. It seemed to me that it would be so easy and natural for me to tear myself away from my past and to remake it--to forget all that had been, and to begin my life, with all its relations, anew--that the past never troubled me, never clung to me at all. I even found a certain pleasure in detesting the past, and in seeing it in a darker light than the true one. This note of regret and of a curious longing for perfection were the chief mental impressions which I gathered from that new stage of my growth--impressions which imparted new principles to my view of myself, of men, and of God`s world. O good and consoling voice, which in later days, in sorrowful days when my soul yielded silently to the sway of life`s falseness and depravity, so often raised a sudden, bold protest against all iniquity, as well as mercilessly exposed the past, commanded, nay, compelled, me to love only the pure vista of the present, and promised me all that was fair and happy in the future! O good and consoling voice! Surely the day will never come when you are silent?

I find it interesting that when we are young, and even when we are old, the idea of making resolutions and promises, to ourselves and to others, appears to be the sure way forward to making proper changes to our lives. It is tempting for one person, trying to help another, to encourage them to make a commitment of some kind, and once the commitment is made, the job appears to be complete.

Yet I find that the promise is but the easiest step, and often the most false. Promising something does not make it happen. It merely binds you now to the duty of the future. If the duty is not being performed now, a promise won't help.

Perhaps this is something everyone must learn on their own, and part of the reason for life. It seems that there are few things that one truly understands without doing it and living it. I'm sure God knows that about us. I believe He understands our weaknesses better than we do. The faint glimmer of the truth of my own is staggering.

Perhaps this is why the Bible refers to the tongue as a restless evil, and why Jesus tells us not to swear oaths. We can barely control ourselves, let alone swearing by heaven or earth, things we truly have no control over. No sense adding burdens of promises to our own backs when we cannot even carry the burdens we already have.

This is a transcript of a rant by Carlton Reid as heard on The Spokesmen cycling roundtable podcast, episode 48, on Saturday, February 20, 2010.

It is not an issue for me[1] I haven't even thought about it for years and years. My phone will not go on in the car, and there's no risk of me answering it because it just wouldn't be on. And that's not because I'm holier than thou, or it's some legal restriction, it's just like, why would I do that? I'm driving! And I haven't got a hands-free. It's just, I'm driving. I'm going to concentrate on, guess what, on the road.

I'm not going to concentrate on anything --- I think I might have said this in the show before --- when I, I don't drive that often, but when I do drive... it tends to be the longer distance drive, when we go to inlaws and stuff, and I'm driving for three and four hours, I come away from that drive with the most amazing mental headache. Because I've been concentrating just so much. Because if you don't come away from a long drive with a screaming headache, you've been on auto pilot. If you've been on auto pilot because ``oh, I know those roads!" --- no, you don't, because around the next corner, there's a tractor, there's a trailer, there's a cyclist, there's a pedestrian.

Anything could happen, perhaps even more so, on the roads you're familiar with. If you're on auto pilot in a car, that's a huge dangerous signal. You add in all these other distractions on top --- I don't hate on mobile telephones in cars, I hate on anything that distracts you. Just anything. You should be paying so much attention to that road. Not because you can kill a cyclist. You could kill yourself! You could kill another driver, you could kill anybody, because these are very fast, very heavy bits of machinery going along very narrow, in your analogy of an airplane[2], it's got a very narrow piece of real estate. And you're going so fast, you look down for one second and --- I'm sure if I Google I could find the statistics of exactly how far you travel --- but if you're travelling 70 mph, you look down for one second you could have gone through so many different stop lights, so many pedestrians who are just crossing the road at that point in time. You just can't take your eye off the road for a second.

And I think again on the show, I've mentioned this, another one of my bug bears is when you see TV presenters who are doing pieces to camera, when they're driving in a car. It's now a standard TV thing. You interview somebody while they're driving. And I hate that so much! How can they remember their lines, and do all these things, and drive? And most of the time they're not being pulled along on a trailer like they do it in Hollywood. These are people genuinely driving. And at some point on these blooper shows, you're going to see these cars smashing into stuff, and people go ``Oh, isn't that funny." No, it's not funny. You are distracting a driver by pointing a TV camera at them. Or, in just normal life, you are talking to somebody, or you are asking them to look at you. And you mustn't do that. The driver is driving something phenominally, unbelievably dangerous that could kill your sister, your brother, your mother. It could kill you. You want that driver to be paying 100% attention. Anything, anything! that takes that attention away, whether it's a burger, an apple, a phone call, a text, anything, has got to be absolutely, socially unacceptable.

[1] answering the cell phone in a car

[2] David Bernstein was arguing earlier in the podcast that if he can fly a plane in three dimensions while talking on the radio, he should be able to talk on the phone while driving a car in two.

I found this article by Benjamin Franklin today and was quite impressed. He wrote it in 1779.

Playing at Chess, is the most ancient and the most universal game known among men; for its original is beyond the memory of history, and it has, for numberless ages, been the amusement of all the civilized nations of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and the Chinese. Europe has had it above a thousand years; the Spaniards have spread it over their part of America, and it begins lately to make its appearance in these States. It is so interesting in itself, as not to need the view of gain to induce engaging in it; and thence it is never played for money. Those, therefore, who have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one that is more innocent; and the following piece, written with a view to correct (among a few young friends) some little improprieties in the practice of it, shows at the same time that it may, in its effects on the mind, be not merely innocent, but advantageous, to the vanquished as well as to the victor.

The Game of Chess is not merely an idle amusement. Several very valuable qualities of the mind, useful in the course of human life, are to be acquired or strengthened by it, so as to become habits, ready on all occasions. For Life is a kind of Chess, in which we have often points to gain, and competitors or adversaries to contend with, and in which there is a vast variety of good and ill events, that are, in some degree, the effects of prudence or the want of it. By playing at chess, then, we may learn,

I. Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, and considers the consequences that may attend an action; for it is continually occurring to the player, ``If I move this piece, what will be the advantages of my new situation? What use can my adversary make of it to annoy me? What other moves can I make to support it, and to defend myself from his attacks?"

II. Circumspection, which surveys the whole chess-board, or scene of action, the relations of the several pieces and situations, the dangers they are respectively exposed to, the several possibilities of their aiding each other, the probabilities that the adversary may make this or that move, and attack this or the other piece; and what different means can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences against him.

III. Caution, not to make our moves too hastily. This habit is best acquired by observing strictly the laws of the game, such as, ``If you touch a piece, you must move it somewhere; if you set it down, you must let it stand:" and it is therefore best that these rules should be observed, as the game thereby becomes more the image of human life, and particularly of war; in which, if you have incautiously put yourself into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot obtain your enemy's leave to withdraw your troops, and place them more securely, but you must abide all the consequences of your rashness.

And, lastly, we learn by chess the habit of not being discouraged by present bad appearances in the state of our affairs, the habit of hoping for a favorable change, and that of persevering in the search of resources. The game is so full of events, there is such a variety of turns in it, the fortune of it is so subject to sudden vicissitudes, and one so frequently, after contemplation, discovers the means of extricating one's self from a supposed insurmountable difficulty, that one is encouraged to continue the contest to the last, in hopes of victory by our own skill, or, at least, of giving a stale mate, by the negligence of our adversary. And whoever considers, what in chess he often sees instances of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce presumption, and its consequent, inattention, by which more is afterwards lost than was gained by the preceding advantage, while misfortunes produce more care and attention, by which the loss may be recovered, will learn not to be too much discouraged by the present success of his adversary, nor to despair of final good fortune, upon every little check he receives in the pursuit of it,

That we may, therefore, be induced more frequently to choose this beneficial amusement, in preference to others which are not attended with the same advantages, every circumstance which may increase the pleasures of it should be regarded; and every action or word that is unfair, disrespectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should be avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both the players, which is, to pass the time agreeably.

Therefore, firstly: If it is agreed to play according to the strict rules, then those rules are to be exactly observed by both parties; and should not be insisted on for one side, while deviated from by the other: for this is not equitable.

Secondly. If it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, but one party demands indulgences, he should then be as willing to allow them to the other.

Thirdly. No false move should ever be made to extricate yourself out of a difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected in such unfair practices.

Fourthly. If your adversary is long in playing, you ought not to hurry him, or express any uneasiness at his delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your fingers on the table, nor do any thing that may disturb his attention. For all these things displease; and they do not show your skill in playing, but your craftiness or rudeness.

Fifthly. You ought not to endeavour to amuse and deceive your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying you have now lost the game, in order to make him secure and careless, and inattentive to your schemes; for this is fraud, and deceit, not skill in the game.

Sixthly. You must not, when you have gained a victory, use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too much pleasure; but endeavour to console your adversary, and make him less dissatisfied with himself by every kind and civil expression, that may be used with truth, such as, ``You understand the game better than I, but you are a little inattentive;" or, ``You had the best of the game, but something happened to divert your thoughts, and that turned it in my favour."

Seventhly. If you are a spectator while others play, observe the most perfect silence: For if you give advice, you offend both parties; him, against whom you give it, because it may cause the loss of his game; him, in whose favour you give it, because, though it be good, and he follows it, he loses the pleasure he might have had, if you had permitted him to think till it occurred to himself. Even after a move or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, show how it might have been played better: for that displeases, and may occasion disputes or doubts about their true situation. All talking to the players, lessens or diverts their attention, and is therefore unpleasing: Nor should you give the least hint to either party, by any kind of noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or show your judgement, do it in playing your own game when you have an opportunity, not in criticising, or meddling with, or counselling the play of others.

Lastly. If the game is not to be played rigorously according to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your desire of victory over your adversary, and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage offered by his unskillfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly, that by such a move he places or leaves a piece in danger and unsupported; that by another he will put his king in a dangerous situation, \&c. By this generous civility (so opposite to the unfairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to lose the game to your opponent, but you will win what is better, his esteem, his respect, and his affection; together with the silent approbation and good will of impartial spectators.

"We're so plugged into the consumer entertainment industry that we don't know what's going on in the world. We know all about Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie and U2 and The Family Guy, but we don't know the laws that are being passed in our countries. We don't know about the injustices of our social systems. We don't know where our food comes from, or the suffering required to get food onto our table. We don't know about the people in our neighbourhoods who are writing books and making movies and putting on plays and singing in choirs and running garage bands. Just like the citizens of The Matrix, we are mostly oblivious to reality, in part because somebody has convinced us that consuming entertainment is a worthwhile pursuit."

- Paul Nijjar, Adjacency Matrix

This is a transcript of the mail segment of CBC's The Current on January 14, 2010. Specifically, the conversation regarding the recent BC bomber investigation and the oil company's handling of sour gas.

You can find more information at the CBC's website at: http://www.cbc.ca/thecurrent/2010/201001/20100114.html

---

Rick MacInnes-Rae: Well, finally this morning, the arrest and subsequent release of Wiebo Ludwig last weekend was followed by a sweeping search of his property by the RCMP. And looking for evidence connected with the bombings of six gas pipelines in northeastern BC. Monday on The Current we spoke to Ludwig from his home. When asked if he's the bomber? This is what he said:
Wiebo Ludwig: I'm not interested in being interrogated. I've been interrogated for 10 hours already, and I don't need that from the media. Try to shift the focus to the real culprits, the people who do a lot of damage, not just to locals here, but to the world [and?] the petro chemical industry. And we've tasted their sharp pains that they inflict quietly. I've been knocked out in the field. My children have been heavily suffering from it, asthma, different things. And miscarriages. This is no joke.

Anna Maria Tremonti: Wiebo Ludwig spoke to us from his home in Trickle Creek, Alberta, Monday.

Now hearing him speak prompted J. Daniel Beachenor of Calgary to write:

Everytime I hear Mr. Ludwig speak, I'm surprised by his articulate and charasmatic nature. You can hear the frustration in his voice. Although I'm not a spiritual guy, I find his ideas very thought-provoking. He has more conviction than any of our current political leaders. The media seems only to want to cast him in one light, one which is very "headline news." I don't believe Mr. Ludwig is the bomber, but who knows? But if he isn't, doesn't this just add credence to the fact that more people are getting frustrated with their sense of powerlessness against the oil and gas industry?

RMR: That's from J. Daniel Beachenor of Calgary.

Now Dave Cardel of Millerville, Alberta took another tack as he writes:

Wiebo Ludwig comes across as arrogant and condescending, with a single agenda, and it seems pretty obvious he loves the limelight. I appreciate that the residents of northeastern BC and northwestern Alberta are having problems with the oil and gas industry, but surely, you can find a better advocate for their concerns.

AMT: That comes from Dave Cardel of Millerville, Alberta.

Tim Ewert has his thoughts on this subject. He's an organic farmer from Pouce Coupe, a small village near Dawson's Creek in northern BC, and we've reached him at home. Hello!

Tim Ewert: Good morning, Anna Maria.

AMT: Now, we were talking about this issue related to Wiebo Ludwig but there is another bigger issue here, is there not?

TE: Yes, there definitely is. I mean there's... I think people need to realize that there has to be a much larger story behind this, for someone to risk spending the rest of their life in jail, they obviously have felt very threatened and have certainly felt that they have not had any kind of adequate redress from the authorities on this issue. I mean, it's obviously an act of desperation... this is my interpretation, anyway... that they have no other way to bring attention to the grievances that people here have.

AMT: So in other words, you're talking about the gas development that is going on in your neighbourhood.

TE: Yes, it's going on at such an amazing rate. And a lot of people feel that it's really out of control.

AMT: Give us some perspective... how long have you had your farm and what's been going on in the last decade or so?

TE: We're in our 36th year on this farm, and we've seen things go from being a very peaceful, quiet, tranquil kind of place that we could really enjoy living in, to a place where you hear the roar of drill rigs, the huge noise that flares burning make constantly. We've got heavy traffic. There are semi trucks going up and down the roads. The dust. You know, there are all those kinds of nuisance issues. And we, in November, November 22 to be exact, had quite a massive leak in our area, which has gone very under- reported.

AMT: Tell me about that. That was a Sunday, right?

TE: Yes it was. It was a Sunday morning.

AMT: What happened?

TE: Well, I could not see the cloud of gas from my house. It was on the other side of a fairly large hill. But there was a gigantic cloud. This has been reported to me by a number of people who saw it.

AMT: Your neighbours, in other words, right?

TE: Yes

AMT: Ok

TE: It was a gigantic cloud that people at first assumed was a fog bank, until a neighbour drove into it, and realized right away that it was heavily laden with H2S, and this neighbour is employed in the oil and gas industry and is trained about H2S.

AMT: H2S is Hydrogen Sulfide?

TE: Yes

AMT: That's what the "sour gas" is, right?

TE: Yes, and it's a very deadly neurotoxin. And it's something that's cummulative. It degrades your central nervous system, and has drastic long term health effects, for people, for animals, well, for every living thing.

AMT: And it smells like rotton eggs, right?

[transcriber's note: http://www.mrwa.com/watersmellrotteneggs.htm and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hydrogen_sulfide]

TE: Yes, basically.

AMT: Ok, keep going.

TE: And this cloud was moving down a hillside and had engulfed a home. And I spoke to a resident in that home yesterday, who told me that she had burnt lungs and she has a note from the doctor saying that this is the case.

AMT: She has burnt lungs from that morning?

TE: Yes. She was asleep in her house, and her house became sort of enveloped in this cloud as it drifted downhill. And there have been, you know, reports of livestock deaths from it, and very erratic behaviour in livestock for a couple of weeks following it.

AMT: Now there has been a release from the BC Oil and Gas Commission that acknowledges that there was, what they call, a piping failure at an Encana Natural Gas well site on that day. But have they acknowledged more?

TE: Well, not at this point. And I don't know whether the authorities realize, or whether they just don't really care, that their refusal to come clean on these kinds of things ... it just further erodes the trust of people. And it's the kind of thing, you know, that makes policing more difficult for the local RCMP, because the ???, the National Security and Intelligence gathering unit has been really out in force.

AMT: So you're talking now, about the investigation that's under way in the Tom's Lake / Dawson Creek area because of the bombings of the Encana well sites.

TE: Yes, we've had just a massive police presence in our area. There's a security camera on our road. If you happen to come in late at night, you are likely to be followed, and you know, quite likely stopped and asked what you're doing, what your business is, why are you driving around at this time of day.

AMT: Have you been questioned by police?

TE: Yes, a few times.

AMT: And what kinds of things have they wanted to know?

TE: They basically sort of accuse us of knowing about the bombings, and demand DNA, fingerprints... they've asked to search our farm, because they've said, "well if you have no explosives, then you're not involved in this, then you certainly don't mind if we search for explosives on your farm."

AMT: So did you let them?

TE: No. And we did not give them... we did not give them our DNA or our fingerprints. We really don't feel that it's appropriate that the police have that kind of information on people who are not connected, have not been charged, whom they have not a single shred of evidence to connect them to any crime whatsoever.

AMT: How many of your neighbours feel the same way you do?

TE: The vast majority of people here in the countryside would agree with me. And I don't claim to be the spokesperson for any group or anyone in particular. I'm speaking essentially for myself.

AMT: Tim Ewert, thank you for sharing your concerns with us.

TE: You're very welcome, Anna Maria, and thank you for your interest in this.

RMR: Tim Ewert is an organic farmer from Pouce Coupe, a small village near Dawson's Creek in northern British Columbia.

...

Paul Graham on the Manager Schedule vs. the Maker Schedule.