Emptiness

She came to me again in dreams this morning, and allowed me wander in her.

It began yesterday. I’ve been looping this happy song of praise on my car stereo (recorded as Waves of Mercy and Every Move I Make). It starts “Na, na, na-na-na-na, na!” and celebrates the Son with this chorus:

Waves of mercy, waves of grace.
Everywhere I look, I see your face.
Your love has captured me.
Oh, my God, this love! How can it be?

I was crying as I drove down the freeway, with her mourning the Passion: “How could they do that?” And I looking into her and reflecting that she, too, had been tormented for her faith. And then we broke through, discarding our grief: her dancing on the Earth and the Sun looking down upon it with serene forbearance.

This morning began all impassioned, but we didn’t bliss. I dreamed of laying my hands all over her, and just really listening to the truth expressed in each part. She kept on expanding, and when our heads came into contact a shift occurred, and we started dreaming in six dimensions. After floating in that for a while, I reached down past her knees to her toes, and felt her anchored in another place, that reality from which we originated, reaching out here to call me back to her.

I am amazed at the delicacy of that balance: the desire to flee the suffering of this place and the joy of knowing that the other possibility exists with the yearning to share it with others. It is not easy, to let love pour through her and as her heart expands to feel all the sorrows of the world. And so we surrender to it, and let love do its work, hoping that there is a different path for the children that come after us.

Old Dirt

I’m in the process of boiling down what I’ve written here in a condensed format, with the intention of facilitating dialog with those that don’t know what to say about the confusion that the world confronts them with. As that process unfolds, I’ve been beset by a cohort of lawyers.

My divorce attorney was a real piece of work. He referred me to the “Man/Boy Love” association, and told me once that “Sometimes a man has to have sex with a child – for the good of the child.” This piece of garbage was referred to me by my corporate attorney, and had both my accountant and closest account call me up to intervene on his behalf. As if that wasn’t frightening enough, he threatened my relationship with my children in an attempt to suborn perjury from me for the benefit of a third party in the case.

The specific incident involved the presentation of poem to a day care provider. I had approached my wife of the time over the summer, telling her that this woman was acting in a provocative fashion towards me, and asking her to help me intervene with the management to get her to stop. The response was an accusation that it was my fault.

So I was left hanging without support, and the situation just got worse. It culminated with the presentation of a poem to the “lady.” It was just before Christmas break, and we drove the boys out to Tahoe for a ski vacation. There wasn’t much snow, but on the way back we ran into intense wind storms. The drive was a disaster, with long stretches of stop-and-go as traffic wended its way through the scattered debris of camper shells and jack-knifed trailers.

We stopped down in Goleta to get gas and have a light dinner. The wind was blowing down the Grapevine at over 100 mph. Getting back into the car, I actually couldn’t keep the door open on the downwind side, and had to turn it around so that the family could get into the car.

When we got back home, we found my youngest son’s cubby contents in a bin at the front door, along with a restraining order against me.

The poem that I gave to the woman was intended to frighten her – to make her aware that she was dealing with a subtle and mature man that she could not possibly understand. When my wife was presented it, the same was proven true. She got to the second verse and screamed at me “That’s sex!”

But when I wrote the poem over the summer, I was conscious of five interpretations, only the last of which was “Man in Mid-Life Crisis.” The first four were:

  1. Christianity and Science (Isaac Newton teaches the world of gravitation, and I upending Einstein’s theory)
  2. Beach Day with Kevin (father and son) (Starting: I come home and he runs to greet me at the door…)
  3. Advice from a Father to a Love-Lorn Daughter
  4. The Temptress

I was never asked to explain by the owners. They had plenty of reason to be afraid of a scandal, and chose to take the offensive.

It’s time to put this to rest, once and for all.

This is the poem:

Yearnings

The Earth, at night, dances with the moon
Cadence and rhythm, their persons speaking
Of love with power, purpose and strength.
Fluttering towards kindred recognitions.

The shore, in dreams, graces into the sea.
Lifting and rising, breathing in tumbles,
Tide mingling with sand, and of that warming,
The two orbs slowly fall, fin’ly as one.

And yet, and still, of certain knowledge there is none,
Held by confident eyes, in children fashioning the sun.

Don’t Blame Love

In the final chapter of Love Works, the feminine personality of life, irritated by the disorder generated by the masculine personality of intellect, grabs him by the short hairs, prompting him to observe:

Choice is a bitch. Let’s hope the kids do better next time. Now, will you let go? (How does she make it hurt so much?)

It’s undeniable that the spread of life across the earth has been driven by primitive urges.

Life’s procreative greed causes ecosystems to become saturated, stunting evolutionary opportunity. The great extinction episodes of paleohistory terminated biological dead-ends, and were all followed by eras in which life took off in new directions.

Conversely, the ability to use tools requires a large brain and flexible digits, both of which limit the growth of organic armor (which traps heat) and organic weapons (which must be anchored to large bones). Thus creatures of intellect such as humans are biologically vulnerable, and so spread only when they can produce tools that overcome the weapons and armor of other animals.

Once those tools were available, however, fear and greed drove us to consume natural resources without restraint, bringing the globe today to the point of ecological collapse. Deflecting the force of these natural tendencies is the challenge we have laid at love’s door.

In the history of religion, that struggle began with the worship of the two polar opposites of procreation and death. With the rise of the hydrological civilizations, an intellectual class of priests began to envision gods with subtle ethical character. But it was really only about 3000 years ago (and only among the intellectual elite) that humanity dared to suppose the gods should be devoted to us, rather than the other way around.

Monotheism is the culmination of this process, and led eventually to the declaration that God is love. This is common to all of the great religions.

But is it to our advantage? Given that we have free will, why should we feel constrained to draw only upon love when we face challenges? When our treasurer embezzles the retirement fund, do we just shrug our shoulders? Or do we get a noose? And when the hanging is done, can’t we justify the act with the assertiong that we are loving our spouse, children and/or co-workers?

The retort to this logic is that if you had really cared about your treasurer and paid attention to her psychological well-being, you would have seen the trouble long before it manifested. But, damn, that seems like a lot of work, and didn’t we pay them to do the right thing? So we keep the noose handy, and that means that the old deities of death get in through the back door of our religions. They stay alive there, and as ecological collapse sweeps across the globe, they will appear once again to grow in power.

But, fundamentally, they are the disease. Sexual indulgence and fear of death are what drove us to exploit the natural world. That love did not have a magic wand to drive them away is not its fault. So we need to stop blaming monotheistic religions for our refusal to hew to the dictates of love. Rather, we need to double down, even as fear sweeps over us, and invest in the love that creates the strength to resist the urge to exploit the world around us.

On Poverty and Riches

Just taking the long view (I mean – the long, long, long view), I consider the time-scale of the cosmos and the saga of biological evolution and we have the precious experience of living in this 10,000 year period in which our intelligence and the natural resources stored up from the past are available for us to do really deep work on our personalities. Simply to be alive in this time is such an incredible gift – to be able to play at being a creator, each in our own limited way.

Even if only to be able to plant a field, or tend a herd, or write a blog. Even if only to be the voice that reminds “There are still problems to be solved” in a way that motivates others to seek for solutions. Not to place fault, but to exhort greatness in others – to guide them into the only form of self-creation that opens to God.

Yes, the window is closing, as it was prophesied in Revelation. No, it’s not the fault of any single individual, and if we collectively had been more considerate of the forms of life that occupied the planet before us, maybe it wouldn’t be so traumatic. But that’s not under my control, so the question I constantly confront myself with is: what am I doing with my opportunity? Am I offering my creative capacities in the service of Life, or do I expect Life to serve me? Because when I finally lose my grip on this body, it is Life and Love that awaits to embrace me with the eternal embrace, if only I know how to receive it.

CLR’ing Away the .NET

When Microsoft first began offering “component” technology to the world, it was a result of unmanaged programming. I don’t mean “unmanaged” in the technical sense (more on that later). I mean “unmanaged” in the original sense: after smashing its office suite competition by tying a full-featured release of Office to Windows 3.1, Microsoft found its development teams competing with each other. When Word users asked for limited spread-sheet capabilities, the Word developers began recreating Excel. When Outlook users asked for sophisticated text formatting for the e-mails, the development team began recreating Word.

Now this reflects two things. The first and most significant is that the code base created by the application teams was not modular. The Word team should have been able to lift the basic spread-sheet engine right out of the Excel code base. The second was that Microsoft had a schizophrenic developer base. Visual Basic developers enjoyed the features of an interpreted language that allowed them to modify code during execution, while Visual C++ developers enjoyed the benefits of high-speed execution. Unfortunately, those two worlds didn’t talk well to each other. C++ uses ‘0’ to locate the first item in a list, while VB uses ‘1.’

Microsoft’s attempt to bridge these gulfs was their Component Object Model. As a response to the duplication of code, it was a little heavy: COM enabled users to add an Excel spreadsheet in Word, but at the cost of starting a full instance of Excel in the background, doubling the memory requirements. By contrast, I saw a demonstration of IBM SOM Objects at a software engineering conference in 1997 that brought a spreadsheet into a text editor while adding only 3% to the memory burden.

At that conference, IBM touted a world in which a graduate student could write add-ins to popular business applications. This was obviously not in the interests of Microsoft, whose dominance of the office application market fueled its profits. This was evident in their implementation of COM. When adding a new component to the operating system, the component registers its services (in the “Windows Registry,” of course). Microsoft published its Office services so that developers of enterprise applications could automatically create Word documents and Excel spreadsheets. That should have meant that other teams could create alternative implementations of those interfaces. To hobble that strategy, Microsoft did not include a reverse lookup capability in its registry. In other words, if you wanted to let your user pick which dictionary to use for a spell-checker, there was no way to find out which installed components provided a “Dictionary” service. You had to walk the entire registry and ask each component in turn whether it was a “Dictionary.” This was not a cheap operation: when I tried it in 1998, it took almost a minute.

On top of this, Microsoft biased its component technology to the VB developer, assuming that C++ developers were sophisticated enough to work around the inconsistencies. This was not an minor burden. What took three lines of code in VB could take a page in C++.

However, COM and its successor DCOM were the latest shiny toy, and many C++ developers flocked to the technology, even for pure C++ implementations. I was scandalized, because C++ had its own methods for creating reusable modules, methods that lay at the foundations of COM and DCOM underneath the cruft of type conversions and named method invocations. I finally found an article on MSDN that warned that COM and DCOM should only be used for systems that were configured dynamically. This included, famously, Visual Basic, host to a rich market of third-party user interface controls (known as “ActiveX” controls). But Microsoft’s advice was not heeded by the industry, and even today I am repackaging COM components as dynamically loaded libraries (DLLs) that publish native C++ objects.

I must admit that over time the work demanded of the C++ developer has moderated. Visual Studio can generate C++ interfaces using a COM “type library,” and allows users to decorate a class declaration with symbols that allow tools to automatically generate the COM wrappers that publish code to VB.

Unfortunately, the field tilted against the C++ developer when Microsoft introduced its .NET technology. One of the major charges leveled against C++ over the years is that developers need to explicit manage the resources consumed by their programs. Memory in particular is a bugaboo, and one of the major challenges of writing a complex C++ application is ensuring that memory doesn’t “leak.” This frustration was catered to by the creators of Java and other “managed” languages (including Microsoft’s C#). Unfortunately, it encourages the fiction that memory is the only resource that developers need to manage, a fiction that is addressed explicitly in the documentation of Java and C# class libraries that open network connections or access external components such as databases.

Be that as it may, Microsoft had to decide whether to continue to support new technologies, such as HTML 5 and XML, upon the fundamental foundations of the machine architecture, or within the higher-level abstractions of the managed world. The overwhelming popularity of managed languages drove the choice. Microsoft no longer delivers full-featured libraries for C++ developers. For a long time, they could only access those features through the clumsy methods of COM programming.

This came to a head for my team last year when trying to implement a new feature that required parsing of XML files. A demonstration application was quickly written in C#, but as the effort to access that from our C++ code was prohibitive, we went looking for a third-party XML library. We couldn’t find one that did the job.

The lack of support for C++ libraries has created some distressing contradictions. C++ developers have always been proud to claim that code written in C++ runs twice as fast as code written in a managed language. Recent studies reveal, however, that processing a large file, such as sensor data produced by a networked device or log files from a cloud applications, is dominated by the time it takes to read the file. The C++ libraries appear to take twice as long to read the file as the C# libraries.

Driven by this evidence to seek new methods for using .NET libraries in C++ code, I finally came upon Microsoft’s C++/CLI or CLR technology. In CLR, the developer has direct control over whether his objects are managed or unmanaged. This means that the speed of C++ execution can be leveraged when necessary, while also allowing access to the rich .NET libraries maintained by Microsoft. Originally CLR was advanced as a technology for migrating C++ applications to the .NET libraries, but it turned out that there were too many inconsistencies between the run-time environment established for native C++ applications and .NET applications.

But what about those of use with a million lines of code that runs within the native C++ execution environment? Is there no bridge?

I am glad to report that we have found it. It is to create a CLR library that exports unmanaged objects using the classic DLL methods that COM originally supplanted. The unmanaged objects wrap managed .NET components, and use C++/CLI methods to convert between C++ and .NET data types.

I am certain that there are some constraints on this strategy, particularly when trying to integrate .NET and C++ components in user interfaces or attempting to ensure data consistency during simultaneous execution in both environments. But for simple operations that drop into the managed world temporarily, it seems to work just fine.

And I find some joy in coming full circle, with only a few lines of code being able once again to write code as a C++ developer should, rather than as a second-class citizen in a market targeting to developers solving far simpler problems than I confront every day.

Trump v. Jesus

As I watched the footage of Donald Trump screaming “Get them out of here! Get them out of here!” and “Try not to hurt him – but if you do I’ll defend you in court,” I had this image of Jesus standing in the center of the crowd, trying to calm the hatred, just falling to his knees as a great shouted heart-cry arose from him.

This is not what I died for!

Rachel Maddow’s backdrop to her coverage of violence in the Trump campaign sported a picture of a Trump in full bombast, underlined with “De-Nomination.” Rachel sees Trump as a fascist, and drew parallels with the behavior of his followers and those of Hitler. Indeed, one of those caught on film pushing a black attendee at a Trump rally proudly proclaimed his affiliation with a white supremacist group. Maddow believes that through his incitement of violence Trump is disqualifying himself for nomination to be the leader of a free nation.

I see this as being a far more complex phenomenon, recognizing that the anti-Trump media has tended to feed the paranoia by casting his off-the-cuff comments in the least charitable light. Trump’s retort to Megan Kelly that “blood [was] coming from…wherever” was probably an unfinished reference to her nose or mouth, not her vagina.

My own visceral reaction to Trump comes from another source. After I finished playing with electrons and muons, I left particle physics because I realized that it would never have practical applications. It wouldn’t create jobs for the people that need them most. My first “real” job involved rescuing a project built by technologists to monitor waste discharges from a facility that employed 10,000 people. The system was required by the local treatment facility because prior discharges had disrupted their operations. Working eighteen hour days under enormous pressure, I brought the system under control, investigated patterns of radiation releases that violated the terms of our discharge license, and participated in tours to calm public fears. I protected those jobs.

After leaving government employment, I began work as a software developer. In my three major engagements, I worked in companies run by people who hated government, seeing it as merely an impediment to job creation. But the ethic of their operations was shocking to me. The organizations were dominated by fear – fear largely originating from the realization that the software used to control the expensive machines they built was so incomprehensible that engineers could no longer configure the installations. In each case, I refactored the code, fixing bugs and adding features as I went. I saved jobs.

The response in every case was to beat me down, because I exposed the fact that, at root, it was the behaviors of executives that made it impossible to achieve success. It was the lies and anger managers projected at their employees that destroyed their capacity to think. I came in and restructured those relationships, building a core of rationality and blame-free problem solving that enabled people to grasp at hope. I ministered to my peers as a Christian, and that terrified those that terrified them.

So this is what I see when I see Trump: a screaming blaggart who builds casinos designed to take advantage of people of weak will, and exclusive communities that protect the rich from rubbing elbows with the poor. I see a destroyer of families and social cohesion, and a diverter of energy that could be employed to heal the infirm and sustain the poor.

In Daniel’s Dream of the Four Beasts [Dan. 7], Daniel sees the coming of “the Ancient of Days” on a “flaming throne” with “wheels of fire.” This is the imagery that accompanies Apollo, god of the sun, in Greek religion. Daniel sees the fourth beast being consumed by flame, even as the last of its horns continues with its “boastful words.” So we have Trump, distracting us with his boasting (“When I’m elected, we’ll win so much that you get tired of winning.”) from the necessary work of healing the world of the mess we’ve made of it, and most specifically the effects of global warming.

I think that Rachel had the wrong word on her backdrop last night. I think that it should have been “Domination,” that great enemy of Christian truth and freedom that seeks to force others to comply with its will. As foretold in Daniel, the fiery destruction of domination is an unfortunate prerequisite to the coming of the Age of Christ. As Jesus suffers the “birthing pains” of His return, try not to be taken in by the enemy’s vainglorious self-promotion.

Ever Expanding

On Sunday afternoon from 4 to 6, I’ve been attending Jeff Nash’s Awakening Process workshops at the Love Dome down in Venice. I had been going to the Friday evening sessions that included dance expression in the second hour, but as I’m down in Santa Monica on Sunday nights for the LA Full-Contact Improv Jam, I decided to save myself the stress of a second trip.

The Sunday afternoon sessions are intimate, with typically three or four participants. We normally begin with a brief discussion of theory, focusing on a particular life issue raised by one of the attendees. The foundations of the process are simple: we’re here to learn to relate to one another. Pain is best thought of as a signal that guides healing energy. When we relax into the flow of that energy, our bodies do a far better job of healing themselves than any conscious process can emulate.

Releasing the stress of the week, we typically begin to collapse to the floor after a half an hour, lying on mats and pillows. Jeff comes by with essential oils, asking what I’m feeling. He doesn’t guide, simply asking for clarification, and when the feeling is clearly defined, whether there is a memory attached to the feeling. When I express stress, Jeff reminds me to focus on my exhale, which allows me to release.

The evolution of the experience has been deeply beneficial. It began with some tension, as Jeff was raised 7th Day Adventist, and his assessment of Christianity reflected the dogmatism of that sect. Once we got that out of the way, he is really in tune with what I have going on inside of me, concluding his visits with the observation that I should be looking for a trigger for my emotions and sensations from a time “early in this life,” followed after a brief pause with, “or in a past life.”

The efficacy of his guidance became palpable two weeks ago. I have been struggling with tightness in my left obliques, and when I focused more deeply on the problem, traced it to something that seemed to be attached to the inside of my rib cage on the left side. Advised to let healing flow into the area, a distinct warmth came, and the tension dissolved.

Later in that same session, I became aware that my fingers were curled into my palms. I’ve had  this pointed out to me before, and as I focused on letting them open and extend, recognized that it came with a social predisposition to guard myself from casual intimacy. As I stood at staff meeting the next morning with my fingers spread and feeling myself rooted into the floor, one of my antagonists stared at me, sitting up to confront my presence before slumping in defeat.

That sense of rootedness carried over to my yoga practice. I realized that I was still bearing most of my weight on the right foot, and began methodically to balance weight identically on each foot. This has relieved me of the burden of fighting subtle weight imbalance, allowing me to relax into postures that once I strained to maintain.

Last Sunday this focus on balance carried on down to the mat. I opened my palms and forced the left side of my glutes to bear equal weight. I felt my arms lengthen, and my knuckles anchor deeply into the wood floor. I was filled with a great openness, and then a sudden urge to curl up into a ball. After relating to Jeff that “I need to fight that”, he offered that “You could let yourself curl up.” Instead, I relaxed more deeply, and felt myself expanding. For I moment I panicked, admitting that “There’s danger there,” but also a welcoming presence sending the thought “You’re not alone.” Jeff asked what I was feeling, and I could only offer “I’m in the world now.” Not quite satisfied, he asked “And what does that feel like?” Lacking meaningful words, I offered “Like a great circle closing.”

Later that night, I slid up next to him. Rubbing his back tenderly, I leaned into his shoulder and whispered, “I remember you.”

He had praised my virtue when others would not.

Wish You Were There

Google has recently announced a “photo location” service that will tell you where a picture was taken. They have apparently noticed that every tourist takes the same photos, and so if they have one photo tagged with location, they can assign that location to all similar photos.

I’m curious, as a developer, regarding the nature of the algorithms they use. As a climate change alarmist, I’m also worried about the energy requirements for the analysis. It turns out that most cloud storage is used to store our selfies (whether still or video). Over a petabyte a day is added to YouTube, with the amount expected to grow by a factor of ten by 2020. A petabyte is a million billion bytes. By contrast, the library of Congress can be stored in 10 terabytes, or one percent of what is uploaded daily to YouTube.

Whatever Google is doing to analyze the photos, there’s just a huge amount of data to process, and I’m sure that it’s a huge drain on our electricity network. And this is just Google. Microsoft also touts the accumulation of images as a driver for growth of its cloud infrastructure. A typical data center consumes energy like a mid-size city. To reduce the energy costs, Microsoft is considering deployment of its compute nodes in the ocean, replacing air conditioning with passive cooling by sea water.

But Google’s photo location service suggests another alternative. Why store the photos at all? Rather than take a picture and use Google to remind you where you were, why not tell Google where you were and have it generate the picture?

When I was a kid, the biggest damper on my vacation fun was waiting for the ladies to arrange their hair and clothing when it came time to take a photo. Why impose that on them any longer? Enjoy the sites, relax, be yourself. Then go home, dress for the occasion, and send up a selfie to a service that will embed you in a professional scenery photo, adjusting shadows and colors for weather and lighting conditions at the time of your visit.

It might seem like cheating, but remember how much fun it was to stick your face in those cut-out scenes on the boardwalk when you were a kid? It’s really no different than that. And it may just save the world from the burdens of storing and processing the evidence of our narcissism.