To the Philosopher, All News is Gossip

The Madness of Cate Carter-Evans, et al

rorybowman — Sun, 28 Apr 2013 21:13:43 GMT

Thinking some this morning about the entire Cate Carter-Evans lawsuits from 1999 forward and to what extent they constitute a "performance of gender." This past Friday was the third time one of her restraining orders was terminated, and in court it was striking to me about how little intelligence or insight most of the parties exercised. From her to lawyer to judge to me, it was so much simpler to get caught in Karpman drama triangles rather than risking a step outside of simple melodrama: masculine villains and rescuers battling near an ultra-feminine victim, passive and helpless and valued for pure beauty. One example of this was the way that various folks treated one piece of evidence: a 1989 book called "Peacemaking Among Primates" which I had forgotten sending to Boyfriend B, Kevin Balmer, immediately after the second attempted restraining order in 2006. The book was about how peace and co-existence are the natural state for most primates and the many diverse ways that rhesus monkeys, chimpanzees and so on consistently organize for face-saving co-existence. Conflict is inevitable, but in the astonishing majority of all cases, that conflict is resolved for the larger good, and often in a way which strengthens the bond of former opponents. My having sent the book was something that Balmer suspected was related to the court case, but Balmer did not read the book. Having received the book from Balmer, lawyer Callahan said that he "skimmed" two paragraphs which I had presumably marked with sticky notes, but he himself had also not read the book. Heck, he had not even read the *paragraphs* he was citing as proof of my sinister intent. There was probably a good five or ten minutes spent discussing the return address I had used, but nothing whatsoever on the content of the book. More than that, there was no curiousity. A book about peacemaking was, for them, inherently a threat of violence? Very odd. This general lack of curiosity and intelligence extended to other things and, indeed, to most things. Having cast themselves as classical "white knight" rescuers in their own melodrama, hardly anyone paid attention to the evidence in front of their noses (to use George Orwell's felicitous phrase). Given nearly 100 blog posts totaling thousands and thousands of words, the closest that Andy Simrin could come to finding an explicit threat was the single two-word phrase "clueless twit" in a single blog post from 2008. "Clueless twit?" Really? On what planet is that a death threat? But the thing was they either could not see otherwise or decided that seeing otherwise was not in their financial interest. Instead they stoked the fear of a fearful woman who, to any rational observer, was demonstrating several signs of mental distress if not illness. And here is where the performance of gender comes in. From the very beginning, the situation Carter presented and sought to enact was a melodrama, with clearly gendered roles for her and everyone else. She of course was cast as the star of this show: the lovely maiden who simply wanted to live her life in peace, quietly knitting and sewing and having a hobby business, presumably between sessions of making fresh jam and petting her two lovely cats. I was Snidely Whiplash, insane and lustful, pining for her or gnashing my teeth, but clearly toward only malice in my every, smallest act. And the Dudley Do-Right lawyers, every pointy-headed one of them, wanted to be the hero anointed, chosen and paid handsomely for their chivalry and skill at protecting the fair maiden. What horse-shit. "It is difficult to get a man to understand something," as Upton Sinclair once wrote, "when his salary depends upon his not understanding it!" Carter wanted clear reinforcement of her femininity: her beauty, her weakness, her goodness and so her absolute right to protection and the fatal power of the state. That drunk Robert Callahan and the slimy Andy Simrin, even the half-clueless pro-tem twit Steven Todd were similarly in love with themselves as gendered do-gooders. Carter was not a person with agency who made choices, but a hapless victim to be served and protected (for a price). I was not a person with agency who made choices, but some sort of villainous automaton, driven mad by malice or just plain mean-ness, with no goal but to steal and damage all things good. I even bought into that gendered nonsense myself for a time, thinking of all the ways I might have hurt Balmer or Simrin or others, if I so chose. But how is it that I was the only one who had the sense to step back and away from that triangle? Why did I not take the simplistic narrative that turned me from villain to victim and then back to villain again? I am not sure, but it shall be interesting to see what happens over the next year or so. Will Carter be talked into another fee-gouging appeal by slimy Simrin? Will new husband Mark Englehardt Evans fall for the same sort of romantic, protective nonsense that Balmer so clearly embraced? Will Balmer ever come to realize how thoughtlessly he enabled the fear and dysfunction that cripples Carter even now? I'm not sure how much I'll care in a year or three, but it certainly could be interesting to see. The mature masculine does not need to punish. The mature masculine does not need to prove it is right. The mature masculine allows for weakness and development in others without being patronizing, confident in its own choices. May I have the grounded humility and wisdom not to be drawn into more of Carter and company's legal headgames. Oh, and by the way: we won. http://catherinelynnecarter.com/2013/04/26-april-2013-hearing/ http://catherinelynnecarter.com/timeline/ http://orwell.ru/library/articles/nose/english/e_nose

Grace Under Pressure

rorybowman — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 13:52:42 GMT

It was seven years ago that Cate Carter Evans filed a false affidavit before an inattentive judge which would help solidify her connection to me and bind us in a way that has cost me tens of thousands of dollars. In that time, I have often thought on the Zen story of Haikun and the unwanted child: A beautiful Japanese girl whose parents owned a food store lived near Hakuin. One day, without any warning, her parents discovered she was pregnant. This made her parents angry. She would not confess who the man was, but after much harassment at last named Hakuin. In great anger the parents went to the master. "Is that so?" was all he would say. After the child was born it was brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his reputation, which did not trouble him, but he took very good care of the child. He obtained milk from his neighbors and everything else the child needed. A year later the girl could stand it no longer. She told her parents the truth - the real father of the child was a young man who worked in the fish market. The mother and father of the girl at once went to Hakuin to ask forgiveness, to apologize at length, and to get the child back. Hakuin willingly yielded the child, saying only: "Is that so?" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hakuin_Ekaku http://catherinelynnecarter.com/timeline/

Princess Chewbacca, 199?-2012

rorybowman — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 21:14:26 GMT

I am just in from digging a grave and setting a fire for a cat I don't even particularly like. Her name is Princess, although my beloved sometimes calls her Chewbacca, presumably for her blue eyes and vocalizations. Princess has been with me since 1999 or so, and with us for the entire time we've been together. Because she came to me as a stray, foisted off on by someone else, I am not certain of her age, but would guess she was at least two or three in 1999, meaning she is approaching fifteen years old. In the picture above she is probably eight or so, and pretty much at the height of her remarkable beauty. As with many Siamese, Princess Chewbacca was fairly vocal at a young age and quite affectionate, although often upstaged by her younger house-sister Silky. Among her favorite things were following around Silky, coming immediately to the warm hood of any car I parked and sitting under the rosemary bush in the shade, watching our free-range chickens. The grave I have dug is near there, and the spot where I buried Silky next to their catnip bush. so she can listen for my car and watch whatever chickens we get to replace those lost this fall to raccoons. For those who have only seen her in the past year or two, the picture above is a much plumper and sleeker version of her from around 2004. I didn't grow up in a family which took many pictures and so this is one of two pictures I have of her. As she has aged she has grown much grayer and thinner, and now is at the point where one can count her vertebrae. She is still a lover and will purr like a champ if one touches her, but one can barely hear her, she is so weak. Two nights ago she was so weak that I found her in her litter box in the morning, still soiled where she had wet herself. Not sure she would make through the day, I brought her a space heater and her currently-favorite box, a smorgasbord of three small plates and some fresh goat's milk, not expecting her to be alive when we came home last night. When we did come home she was nowhere to be found, so we searched the entire house and then outside, and then again this morning. Princess has a remarkable ability to open cabinet doors and will slip into the smallest of openings. In her younger years, she once disappeared for two days and was only discovered when we heard her calling from inside a linen drawer. She would dash into the attic so often that if we had not seen her, we learned to just crack it and hope, shutting it quickly when we were certain she had not escaped upstairs. Last night she had apparently found a way into a cabinet beside the sink where we kept canning supplies. Only an hour or so ago, searching again after services, did we find where she had slipped in there and into our pressure canner, too weak to get out and wet again from having soiled herself. We were relieved to find her and so washed her off with warm rose-water, carefully drying her and setting her out on the car hood one last time. Just now the fire is catching and from there we shall place her in her bed to join us for one last evening. We haven't had such a fire in a while, so this will be one final and special treat. It is so sad to see her, so disheveled and in pain, but this should help. If at dawn she is still with us and hurting I shall do as I would want. Thank you, Princess. You have been a good cat.

Quick, Look at Me!

rorybowman — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 02:15:49 GMT

Got the news this morning that Cate-Carter Evans of Shanghai is moving to drag out her legal harassment of me yet again. She has lived in China since at least early 2009, perhaps 2008. She is continuing the attention-grabbing nonsense she learned that lawyers can provide for a fee since long before then. I'm not sure how smart or attentive Lawyers Three and Four are, to have not consulted with her, but apparently she can't make the hearing previously scheduled for March 1st, and we will have to delay until at least March 28. Now *THAT* is an interesting thought. Would she like to reschedule for the seventh anniversary of her original perjury in 2006? Perhaps she would like to be sitting in a courtroom opposite my mother on March 29, the yearly anniversary of my brother Marcus' death. I cannot believe that she is dragging this nonsense out yet again, but her decision to bring on Lawyer Five last month clearly shows that she is fixated on me. Perhaps her new marriage is on the rocks already, with Mark Englehart Evans not paying enough attention to her. One key theory around the 2005 Kevin D Balmer episode was that she used the "threat" of me to keep her current guy closer, and we know how well that worked out for everyone. Callahan made a few thousand, but everything else was a waste. I wish I understood what her obsession is but mostly I am tired of her and see her as an affliction, a chronic and lifelong problem to be managed but never solved. I had an interesting conversation with someone who knew "the dark queen" (as he calls her) back when we were dear friends. His theory is that this is about her guilt over her part in Marcus' death, including what may have been her lies to me about him, but I don't care. Another woman noted last May that Kate had first met and focused on me when she was seventeen. The same thing that made me a good teacher also made me eminently crush-worthy and, if so, Carter-Evans seemed unlikely to ever break that connection. Except for her parents, for good or for ill, I am arguably the longest and most emotionally important relationship in her life. How is that anything but sad? She has literally been admiring or obsessing about me for most of her life, to whatever end. This gets her attention and makes her feel important. MY attention makes her feel important, and when she loses it she just pays someone to buy it back. Is that what this is about? Some teenager's crush? I don't know. I had hoped that she would marry, move away and abandon all this like her all-too-common name. No such luck. So apparently Lawyers Three and Four failed to tell their client about the hearing date, so now they want a delay and are working to figure out when Mr. and Mrs. Mark Englehart Evans can fly into Portland and testify about what an enormous danger I pose from across the Pacific Ocean. Apparently they registered a virtual mailbox at some strip-mall in Beaverton this past June, so they can claim they own a business in the state or something. Not a bad move, given that she hasn't lived here for years, but blah blah blah. The name of the thing is Infinite Twist and apparently she plans to draw this out for quite some time. The main thing is that Carter-Evans is spending more money in exchange for more attention. What she'll do after this civil order is terminated, I don't know, but I'm sure it will be something. Hey everyone, look at me! It is sad when someone with so much promise and talent squanders it for lack of insight or psychological courage. If nothing else, I shall have a lot of fun stories to tell of her at Reed Reunions this year; all of them true. Cartoon from the wonderful and insightful Nick Galifianakis, http://nickandzuzu.com Infinite Twist, business registered shortly after remand, http://egov.sos.state.or.us/br/pkg_web_name_srch_inq.show_detl?p_be_rsn=1587422&p_srce=BR_INQ&p_print=FALSE Lots of other "mail stop" businesses there too, http://www.google.com/search?&rls=en&q=14525+SW+MILLIKAN+WAY&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8

Voluntary Poverty

rorybowman — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 19:40:24 GMT

Went down to my post office box this morning and have received a letter from one Zachary Spier (pictured), lawyer number 5 for Cate Carter-Evans of Adidas in Shanghai China. Carter Evans has been living in China since late 2008 or 2009 but, for reasons of her own (and as documented elsewhere) remains fixated on me and sends a lot of money to lawyers to stay connected. Mr Spier is new to law, as shown in this picture, a puppy lawyer who has been thrown a collections bone by his self-styled sith master, Andy Simrin. His letter to me takes the form of a 39-question interrogatory about my finances and so on, in a way which I suppose is intended to frighten or anger me. It does not. As a young man of 15 I read a lot of Thoreau, not only the bracing essays such as "Civil Disobedience" and "A Plea for Captain John Brown," but the entirety of Walden twice, and then several times over. I was inspired as only 15-year-olds can be inspired, and particularly took to heart two sentences, which I think of at least monthly. The first was his injunction to ""Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage" since "None can be an impartial or wise observer of human life but from the vantage ground of what we should call voluntary poverty." As everyone who has known me an attest, I have lived according to that injunction for all of my adult life, in the service of philosophy. "None can be an impartial or wise observer of human life but from the vantage ground of what we should call voluntary poverty. Of a life of luxury the fruit is luxury, whether in agriculture, or commerce, or literature, or art. There are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not philosophers. Yet it is admirable to profess because it was once admirable to live. To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically. The success of great scholars and thinkers is commonly a courtier-like success, not kingly, not manly. They make shift to live merely by conformity, practically as their fathers did, and are in no sense the progenitors of a noble race of men. But why do men degenerate ever? What makes families run out? What is the nature of the luxury which enervates and destroys nations? Are we sure that there is none of it in our own lives? The philosopher is in advance of his age even in the outward form of his life. He is not fed, sheltered, clothed, warmed, like his contemporaries. How can a man be a philosopher and not maintain his vital heat by better methods than other men?" Young Spier's letter assumes that I am like Andry Simrin, or Robert Callahan or Cate Carter-Evans: possessed of conventional bourgeoise resources and focused on the conventional successes of privilege such as a good credit rating or money. But from the time I chose to attend Reed College through my time as an Earth First! activist and schoolteacher, volunteer, board member and (often pro-bono) computer consultant, I have defined success otherwise. As a Reed activist put it recently at reunions, I have "always leaned into the hard places" and strived to be brave and honest and strong. I am not afraid of death, nor particularly of prison. Catherine Lynne Carter has already done everything that she can to savage my reputation and slander me around Portland. I do not fear physical cowards, moral pygmies or lawyers, and I am certainly not afraid to go bankrupt. Before I found Thoreau I had studied Buddhism, which is a sort of constant preparation for death by letting go. A key goal is to be indifferent as the Stoics to fortune, and to embody my values through Existential action. Young Zach Spier is lawyer number five in what Cate Carter-Evans can afford to make a nearly-infinite series of lawyers. She can harass me for decades to come, to be sure, and perhaps the best option is to make her my sad creditor. Another option is bankruptcy, which would not be so bad. I was poor when I met her, and shall grow no richer for it. My entire life I have trained to fight. My entire life I have prepared for things such as death and bankruptcy. There is no substitute for virtue. And voluntary poverty has clear strategic value and advantages. It makes me sad to see lawyers cynically passing my former friend between them like a drunken sorority girl, but there it is. I have been sad before, and I shall be sad again. http://www.osbar.org/members/membersearch_display.asp?b=124609&s=1&aw= http://zacharyspier.bandcamp.com/ http://www.youtube.com/user/jabberbox

Welcome to Waterloo, Washington

rorybowman — Wed, 07 Nov 2012 18:07:58 GMT

Yesterday the voters of Washington state approved Referendum 74, becoming one of three states to approve marriage equality, along with Maryland's approval of Question 6 and Maine's approval of Question 1. These were three major wins for same-sex marriage after the painful loss of California Proposition 8 in 2008, and a major reversal for the National Organization for Marriage and similar anti-gay partisans. I did not do much in support of Referendum 74 this year, partially because I was focused on another important campaign, and partially because we are at a point where there are others ready to step in. The tide on this issue has finally turned and nation-wide acceptance of marriage equality seems a demographic certainty. I am proud, though, to have helped lay the groundwork for last night's victory in 2009. Flush from their California success, the National Organization for Marriage and allies such as the Catholic and Mormon churches were hubristically proud. National media in 2009 chose to focus on Maine Question 1, but the same night that NOM was winning back east, voters in Washington became the first-ever plebiscite to explicitly expand GLBT rights to domestic partnership, rather than winning such a victory in the legislature or the courts. I am proud to have been a regional organizer for that effort, when Washington Families Standing Together pioneered the techniques that won last night's election, a Waterloo reversal for opponents of gay marriage. Whatever may happen eventually in the Supreme Court, Washington has clearly marked a clear and long-lived reversal for the bigots of NOM. When a sitting US president speaks in support of a ballot measure, the worm has turned. We now need only wait for whatever equivalent there is to the Loving decision of 1967 against miscegenation laws. Going into the election, Chris Plante of the anti-gay National Organization for Marriage boasted that their win record was 32-to-0 against marriage equality. Today it is 32 and 3. Soon it shall be 32-50. Every once in a while, the forces of good win out. Referendum 71 at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Referendum_71_(2009) Main Question 1 (2009) at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maine_Question_1,_2009 Referendum 74 last night at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Referendum_74_(2012) Maine Question 1 revisited at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maine_Question_1,_2012 Maryland Question 6 last night at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maryland_Question_6_(2012) 1967's Loving versus Virginia at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loving_v._Virginia

USSA: Unwanted Same-Sex Attraction

rorybowman — Sun, 02 Sep 2012 03:18:24 GMT

"Unwanted same-sex attraction" is a common Christian term for what most people would call "homosexuality," and more specifically latent or repressed homosexuality. I first became aware of the term four or five years ago when working with a men's support organization and encountering a few men who were only coming to recognize their core sexuality in their thirties or early forties. Having spent my entire life around out gay men and lesbians, I had always laughed at the assertions by conservatives that people could somehow be converted to homosexuality or "recruited." Then, many years later, as I was working with various men during adult crises, I started to see the real pain that coming to understand one's sexuality later in life can cause. http://www.joshweed.com/2012/06/club-unicorn-in-which-i-come-out-of.html http://www.peoplecanchange.com/change/mans.php http://www.focusonthefamily.com/socialissues/social-issues/counseling-for-unwanted-same-sex-attractions.aspx http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xkKoD1uVbrE http://www.lemondrop.com/2010/05/28/i-discovered-my-husband-was-gay/

Seven Habits of Highly Effective People

rorybowman — Sat, 21 Jul 2012 21:42:53 GMT

This past month saw the passing of Stephen R Covey, a self-promoting Mormon man who did a lot to inform work culture in the 1990's and whose work strongly informed my own life. He was not a great thinker and much of his success relied on self-promotion and hucksterism, but there was enough substance and content to his teaching for that to forgivable. He played on yuppie vanity to move a lot of high-end, bourgeois paper products, and parlayed his LDS connections for hundreds of thousands (if not millions) in profits from Mormon-heavy departments such as the Bureau of Reclamation, yet the fundamental systems he developed and promoted through Franklin-Covey were a positive influence for many people, and did a lot to help make people more balanced and humane. That he saturated the market with ancillary products such as "Seven Habits for Teens" and that sort of twaddle did nothing to take away from the core value, any more than a simplified version of Aristotle's Nichomachean Ethics would be a bad thing. If he could make money selling Seven Habits bookmarks and gilded zipper pulls, whose fault was that? It gave people pleasure and made him moneys without distracting from the core teaching. He was not a deep thinker, but he was a great promoter, and the essential thing he promoted was good: conscious reflection for task management and life, in accord with one's own clearly-identifed values. With his passing, I decided to revisit Seven Habits this month for the first time in probably ten years or more, and used it as an opportunity to reflect on how I applied his core teachings in an ongoing lawsuit, begun by my former friend Cate Carter-Evans of Shanghai. Cate lives in China now with her new husband, Mark, and has for three or four years now. When I met her though she was a student at Reed College, and I had been reading Stephen Covey shortly before her first lawsuit against me. In looking over the lawsuit it seems clear to me how much better it would have been for everyone had Carter-Evans paid attention to Covey or his Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. For those unfamiliar with the seven habits they are: (1) to be proactive, (2) begin with the end in mind, (3) put first things first, (4) think win-win, (5) seek first to understand, then to be understood as you (6) synergize and (7) sharpen the saw. Some of these phrases seem buzzwords more than twenty years on, but when published and popularized in the 1990's they were a welcome relief from the go-go greed frenzy that had preceded them. Looking at them in relation to my ongoing attention to Cate Carter-Evans it is interesting to see how clearly I applied them, how Carter-Evans did not, and how that has unfolded for each of us. BE PROACTIVE. Kate Carter and I had been friends since she first arrived in Portland, and were friends for years before we had a brief romance from late 1996 to early 1998. From first sex to last was about fourteen months, and when we split we were agreed that we wished to remain friends, learning from the relationship and going on to better things. We were proactive about our emotional health in that, and many things, a proactive commitment that she abandoned for a much more reactive and (presumably fear-based) mindset later. In honor of the previous friendship I would reach out with fairly neutral and good-natured communications, whereas she retreated and tried to ignore many things. This was true of the relationship, but also for our lives generally. As I tried to stay moderately goal-oriented and forward-looking she was more adrift after she split and seemed to sort of float from one thing to another, without any particular goal or plan. I started a business and trained at consistently, moving forward with other areas of my life such as my emotional health and a lifelong interest in writing therapy. What she did I am not certain but it seems not to have had much focus or forward-looking plan. She looked for jobs, I suppose, but not really toward a career. Her crafts seemed to be the most important thing to her at the time, but there seemed little plan for them, just hobbyist doings. What she was proactive about was an odd decision to try and sue me under a civil statute originally written to protect women from domestic violence. The first time she did so was in 1999, in reaction to my returning a couch of hers which she had left unclaimed for over a year. BEGIN WITH THE END IN MIND. My goal in 1999 was pretty much the same goal we had agreed to when she decided to leave me in February of 1998: to preserve the friendship we had enjoyed before our brief romance, such that each of us could go on to stronger relationships in future. That is pretty much the same end I held well into 2010 as I've sought to maintain a healthy relationship. What her goal was in claiming I was somehow a monster with inchoate plans to hurt her, I am not certain. Did she think that speaking ill of me in Portland would gain her trust and a good name over the long term? Did she think it would make me acquiesce and move from the city of my birth? Did she hope to drive me into bankruptcy or make me angry with her? I don't think that Kate Carter even really thought about where a series of legal attacks against me would lead, although I'm sure that she found plenty of lawyers who took her money by claiming that such a lawsuit would make her feel safe and important and happy. By not thinking through the end-game of such a lawsuit, she embarked on an unpleasant and ongoing conflict which seems unlikely to ever have any sort of good end. If her goal was a civil but distant acquaintance in honor of our past friendship, she didn't act wisely. If the goal as to alienate and anger me, I'm not sure where she hoped that would take her. The draw of immediate attention without concern for others or the long-term consequence of a lawsuit seem to have completely escaped her. PUT FIRST THINGS FIRST. After Carter left me in 1998 I was clearly focussed on more important things: my own mental wellness, a pleasant and healthy home, a profitable small business and successful romantic partnership with someone else who would support me in those goals. Attention to her was fairly far down that list, although I did value the past friendship and wish to maintain the amicable feelings that we had entered post-romance counseling to preserve. I cannot but help wonder what Carter was putting first when she decided that the best use of her energies was picking a legal fight with me and paying a series of lawyers to attack me in court. How on earth was that a higher priority for her than a successful career, sound mental health and other, better relationships? Prioritizing our past relationship over other, more proactive parts of her life seems poor judgement on her part, and I wish that she had been more proactively forward-looking than she was, as I had tried to be. THINK WIN-WIN. Under no circumstance did I see that Catherine Lynne Carter's happiness or success in any way diminished mine, and I did not see how my ongoing happiness and success could hurt her in any way. Alanis Morissette once wrote, "I only wanted for you what you wanted for yourself, and yet I wanted to save us come high water or hell." I thought that it was possible for each of us to be happy and to honor our previous agreements, in a way that she seemed incapable of conceiving. I did not think that my success hurt her in any way, and did not want her to see an attack on me as a win. Somehow, though, she had entered into win-lose thinking, where for her to get whatever she wanted I would need to be shamed and defamed and spoken ill of, regardless of objective truth. She went for the quick and cheap hero-villain narrative in a way that aggrandized her and left me with few ways out. To defend my own honor I would have to oppose her and have us wasting a lot of money. In her original suit she had claimed that she did not want to ruin my life, but that she just wanted to be left alone. Why then did she keep telling various foul stories about me, thinking that they would not get back around in Portland? Rather than seek a way for everyone to go forward in piece, she chose the clear win-lose domination system of the courts, with all the implied violence that money and courts imply. SEEK FIRST TO UNDERSTAND, THEN TO BE UNDERSTOOD. Here I failed, but not from a lack of trying. At each step of the escalating craziness in Carter's worldview, I tried to come up with a rational narrative which explained how this person whom I had dearly loved, who had seemed a good friend and who had claimed to want friendship had chosen to attach to me in such a mean-spirited away. I extended olive branch after olive branch, and again, offering my own view in simple letters every few years. I tried to understand her in a way that I don't think she, her conflict-paid lawyers or her supposed friends ever did try to understand me. I was nearly thirty when she left me, and had been divorced. I'd had many relationships end, but never without so much as a goodbye letter or do-not-contact request. This has been a constant source of frustration, and now think that I understand there are some people who simply don't want to understand: they want to be right without thought or reflection, regardless of where it goes or how much is lost in the going. How odd to understand there are some who want nothing of understanding! SYNERGIZE. Working together with others so that each and all are better off is an extension of the win-win. All of us can do more than some of us, goes the theory, so one should try to reach out proactively with the goal of a win-win end in mind. I did this several times with mutual acquaintances, and indeed it was a relationship with a fellow I had seen online which triggered Carter's most hysterical and over-the-top reaction to me since 1998, causing her to file her current main lawsuit against me in 2006. Rather than building alliances and seeking to take advantage of mediation or other peacemaking opportunities, though, she has sought to buy solutions through bigger lawsuits and antagonism. Over the longterm this will not work, of course, as I am proving even in typing this. The longer she tries to maintain an untenable antagonism, and the more I seek to work with forces of reason and peace, the more of a disadvantage she shall find herself in, and the harder her life. It is sad, really. Conflict and hate do not synergize well over the long term: they are opposed to positive humanity. Had she sought to build upon clearer communications and direct understanding, she would have more allies and resources today. SHARPEN THE SAW. I have improved myself, pretty much every month of every year (if not every day) since we last spoke. As part of being proactive and thinking win-win toward a synergistic end, I have become better. My writing is better, my worldview more comprehensive, my technical skills greater and my alliances stronger. By working on myself and remediating past weaknesses, I am stronger and wiser and kinder and fiercer and more grounded than I was before. I wish that she had done the same, to remediate and address some of her fears. I am sorry that she did not, as I would rather everyone be healthy. In the years since Kate Carter became Cate Carter-Evans, I have tried to make decisions in accordance with Covey's seven habits of highly successful people, including decisions I've made around my relationship with her and the lawsuits she has initiated against me. I cannot but help be sad on thinking over how different her life would be had she done likewise. A heedless, reactive, win-lose mindset without forethought has cost her tens of thousands of dollars, as it has cost me, to no good purpose. She fails because she is in opposition to fundamental principles of human nature and the universe. She failed to care morally about what she became, a mid-level functionary in an industrial machine. How sad. May the coming years bring her more insight, more wisdom and a cleaner happiness. These principles work if one works them.

Sharita Elinor Friedberg, Jarhzeit 2012

rorybowman — Sat, 07 Jul 2012 23:37:12 GMT

This weekend marks the one-year anniversary of the death of my dear friend Elinor Friedberg, a remarkable woman. Born and raised on Manhattan in the 1970's, Elinor was a strong personality who always appreciated the value of self-presentation and the opportunity for theater in almost any situation. Combined with her self-absorption this could sometimes make her seem histrionic but she had a deep if intermittent concern for others that made her more than she might have been without that. Under similar circumstances others emerged narcissistic, but the flavor of her childhood experience was closer to that of movies such as Serpico, The Warriors, Escape from New York and Fame than it was to Woody Allen. I always admired that about her, since I don't think I would have liked her much otherwise. I first noticed Elinor shortly after she arrived at Reed College in Portland in the late 1980's. She was walking toward a telephone in the library lobby and even in a t-shirt I could clearly see that she had one of the most remarkable bodies I have ever seen in my life. She was big and bodacious and beautiful, projecting even strongly from the uncertainty of youth. As she aged and grew stronger in her compassion, that remarkable beauty remained, and was central to the identity and life she created as Sharita, a belly dancer in the Portland, Oregon scene. Elinor had always had a deep love of culture, from classical music to Gilbert and Sullivan. The child of a Columbia professor and writer for the New York Times, she was cultured without being pompous and loved what she loved authentically, with little patience for elitism and airs. With the nerdiness of a mathematician's daughter who juggled, she would enthusiastically mix cultural elements across genre and especially in belly dance, a huge part of her later life. Physically timid as most teenagers are, she took her dance name "Sharita" in honor of a friend named Shari who had encouraged her to explore the joy of dance, and she used her material advantages to share that love of dance with others by teaching at Portland State University, Reed College and in her own studio, which she built explicitly for that purpose. Under the banner of Sharita Productions she produced such remarkable things as a full-on stage production of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring as a belly dance, and similar odd combinations such as a recital to Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. Between graduating from Reed in 1992 and building up her studio as Sharita Productions, Elinor had a period of very serious depression, which partially overlapped a similar period for me. It was during this time that we became friends and together worked to emerge from that special shade of darkness. I did it mainly by trying to build a business. Elinor did it by finding and gutting a grand old Portland house. The house was a large one in SE Portland which, like many at the time, had not been maintained to contemporary standards. She bought it and then methodically stripped it, rebuilding it as she rebuilt her life. She told me once that she had brought in a photographer friend and done a series of nude portraits within the gutted space as testimony to how torn up and hollow she felt. In rebuilding that house she rebuilt herself, such that she and it were almost one super-organism. The life she created was as full and rich and huge and welcoming as that house, with an abundant and remarkable evergreen garden. The house caught fire a few months after she died and still sits in mute testimony, half gutted and half overgrown. Like her it was larger than life, but now I'm sad. Our friendship was at its strongest as she was completing the studio and putting on the first of her major productions as Sharita. For various reasons another person tried to create a rift between us and, since I felt our friendship made her fiancee uncomfortable, I never really tried to repair it. It was here she had her first bout with cancer, and it was important that I not insert myself into that, save to notify the relevant Reed support folk. We knew of each other at distance during this period, and I was glad to hear second-hand that she had completed chemo and was doing better. True to her larger-than-life nature, part of her treatment journey included a high-profile billboard of her across the city: bald and beautiful, she literally became the poster model and face of cancer survivorship in Portland. Chemo was very hard on her, harder even than most, so I was grateful when she took the news of her second bout to reach out and reconcile. My memory is that after a period of long silence, Elinor left a strangely urgent voicemail on a Monday or Tuesday afternoon, saying nothing but asking to meet in person. I met with her immediately of course and it was then that she shared news that her previous cancer had metastasized, with the good news that she would have several strong months. Her plan was to use this opportunity as a "get out of jail free" card to move up her wedding and travel with her beloved as long as she was able. I thanked her and assumed this would be the last I saw of her and, until near the end, mostly it was. I met with her a few times in the late spring and early summer of 2011 to help assist with exit planning, which was thankfully smooth. Elinor had the time to plan her exit well and, in the words of the husband she absolutely adored, "ended, on her own terms, her five year battle with breast cancer." She called in friends and family from across the country for a mid-summer barbecue, at the end of which she checked out, exercising her right to do so under Oregon's "death with dignity act." At the same place tonight I shall light a candle and say my prayers in honor of her great spirit and passing. She was a remarkable woman and shall long be missed by many who loved her, and remembered by many more. We shall not forget you, until we are with you, Dear One. http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=950DE5DF133AF933A25754C0A9679D8B63 http://bojack.org/2011/07/farewell_to_sharita.html http://www.youtube.com/user/ElinorFriedberg?feature=watch http://www.flickr.com/groups/1731175@N21/ http://www.portlandtribune.com/features/print_story.php?story_id=15770 http://www.rlpotograpiya.com/ThroughMyEyes/Remembering-Sharita-Elinor/18826680_vVG6cB#!i=1480399836&k=C7rKKFZ

Memorial Day

rorybowman — Mon, 28 May 2012 19:43:08 GMT

Oh my mama told me 'Cause she said she learned the hard way. Says she wanna spare the children: She say don't give or sell your soul away, 'Cause all that you have is your soul So don't be tempted by the shiny apple Don't you eat of the bitter fruit Hunger only for a taste of justice Hunger only for a world of truth 'Cause all that you have is your soul Why was I such a young fool Thought I'd make history Make a deal and have no debts to pay Take it all, I'd take it all, I'd run away For me myself: first class and first rate But all that you have is your soul So don't be tempted by the shiny apple Don't you eat of a bitter fruit Hunger only for a taste of justice Hunger only for a world of truth 'Cause all that you have is your soul Here I am, I'm waiting for a better day A second chance A little luck to come my way A hope to dream, I hope that I can sleep again And wake in the world with a clear conscience and clean hands 'Cause all that you have is your soul So don't be tempted by the shiny apple Don't you eat of a bitter fruit Hunger only for a taste of justice Hunger only for a world of truth 'Cause all that you have is your soul Oh my mama told me 'Cause she say she learned the hard way Say she wanna spare the children She say don't give or sell your soul away 'Cause all that you have is your soul All that you have All that you have All that you have Is your soul

Received Your Lawyer's Letter of 10 May

rorybowman — Wed, 16 May 2012 04:21:51 GMT

Good luck with that. I'm not sure how you think this is going to end, but how many more years and thousands of dollars do you plan to spend trying to bludgeon me into accepting your iron-clad sense of privilege and entitlement? Which of the lawyers who argued that I was a former-commando ninja with plans for murder-suicide convinced you that I would be cowed into giving you more than you've ever asked for just to protect my credit rating? People are so very different. Your original plan to use the legal system against me was a bad one, and your decision to escalate by appeal and seek attorney fees (which are fully dischargeable in bankruptcy) was almost as bad. Logically, the order cannot outlive us and will end. The only question is how many more years and tens of thousands of dollars you plan to waste on this. More details at http://catherinelynnecarter.com/2012/05/carter-v-bowman-proposed-settlement-10-may-2012

Michelle Bachmann's Corndog

rorybowman — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 19:35:01 GMT

This morning's Facebook feed brought up a picture of a middle-aged woman eating a corndog which, from the context of Republican goings-on in Iowa, I correctly deduced must be presidential hopeful Michelle Bachmann. The photo shows the woman with a very expensive haircut and tawdry eye make-up (Republican!) just about to bite the top of a foot-long corndog while a man with better eye make-up looks up toward her from a sign in the lower-left corner. It is a beautifully framed shot, and funny because one knows that the subject obviously cares a great deal about her appearance and probably cringed upon seeing the photo. A woman whose opinions I take seriously objected to the photo as misogynistic, "the most classic form of sexual harrasment." "haha, you think you're my colleague/boss/potential pres nominee! no, you're a female! you eat dick!" "seriously, how is this any different from the racist right wing photoshop jobs of the president? even if she wants to debate ideas you don't think should be in the public sphere, do you really want to assert that by dint of her embodiment, she cannot speak in the public sphere? is that how you want to align yourself? that doesn't make her ideas look ridiculous." One key way it is different is that I've no reason to think it Photoshopped. And it was not posted to paid propaganda sites that I know of. Nor produced by the hundreds for distribution at public rallies. Given what little I know about MIchelle Bachman, her marriage to a "pray-away-the-gay" businessman and generally willful, Palinesque ignorance, I don't think that there is any picture that could make her "ideas" look ridiculous. I don't think she has any. I think she is a wounded puppet, at core a crippled child eager for whatever validation she can get, feeding her own crazy from the crazy of people more or less like her, but the idea that implications of fellatio by a woman is inherently misogynistic is an interesting one. Clearly this picture was posted because it shows Bachmann performing a physical action that resembles fellatio. The self-consciously sexy MILF-of-the-moment for right-wing dweebs has been "caught" in a candid photo that highlights her over-the-top eye makeup. Bachmann, like Coulter and Palin before her, has long used her appearance to court Republican men with a reptilian intelligence that defines her genre of player: a sort of mean-but-sexy Margaret Thatcher for Fox-watching connoisseurs of free internet porn. The Coulters and the Palins and the Bachmanns are a novelty act as surely as Clarence Thomas, Alan Keyes or Thomas Sowell: demographically-unlikely spokesmodels for the corporate GOP agenda. She is essentially a dancing bear placed on stage before she is later tossed into a pit for the dogs. But let's get back to the main point of this picture: fellatio. If fellatio is disgusting, I assert that disgust is based on a fundamental belief that men or penises or semen are disgusting. Unlike other physically pleasant aspects of sexual contact such as massage or kissing or gazing into one another's eyes, oral and anal sex derive much of their erotic charge from the perception that they are "dirty." If penises are disgusting then those who want to touch and suck and fondle penises are disgusting, and lots of men want their penises so handled. Men want to be wanted but feel they are unworthy, so anyone who wants them is also unworthy. Male self-hatred is the foundation of misogyny, with women merely the backboard that such projections are bounced against. I loathe Michelle Bachmann and her followers. I have contempt for her closet-case husband and the transparently wounded way they pursue power. It is pathology. Although I'm moderately sure that Bachmann has consciously used her sex appeal to get ahead in dozens of ways for dozens of years, I don't find this picture funny because it shows a woman who may or may not love sucking on a comically-oversized cock. I find this picture funny because it shows someone who lives on appearances flubbing her appearance in a comically obvious way. For all the haircut and the eye make-up she is here shown for what she is, a desperate performer pandering to the camera and the crowd. Fellatio is not foul. Michelle Bachmann is. And that eye make-up. Then again, I've never really cared for drag. Not even on women.

The Great Fear Opera

rorybowman — Mon, 02 May 2011 17:01:40 GMT

Yesterday evening I returned from a beautiful day of sunshine and friends, wildflowers and ritual, a day of love and pleasure to the news that Osama Bin Laden had reportedly been killed in Pakistan. To be honest, I assumed he had been dead for years now, a zombie puppet propped up for propaganda. This morning, though, I am thinking on wasted lives, money and the way that fear makes people do stupid things. Earlier this month I was up early, to open my favorite cafe at 6am, as I use to do for the few years I taught in the Vancouver Public Schools. My thinking was that if I opened the cafe at 6am and closed it at 5:30pm, that I would not nearly work myself to death. I was wrong. But this month I was up this early to drive down to the supreme court chambers in Salem, to watch the latest kabuki spectacle in the pathetic saga of Catherine Lynne Carter versus me. She is presumably still in Shanghai working for Adidas, and represented only by counsel. Catherine Lynne Carter was a woman I met the week she arrived at Reed College. I was working as a security guard between teaching gigs and we became friends. When I returned to teaching, we were briefly lovers and she lived with me before leaving in February of 1998. Hoping to stay friends we even went to counseling after, and the last time I spoke with her was in June of that year. Her method of staying in touch would prove to be inventing a narrative of me that would bring her sympathy and attention. Although I believe that her fear is real, I also believe that it is irrational. The farther away she is from me, the more afraid she seems, as was obvious in Salem chambers this April. Sitting in the courtroom before a panel of three judges, I listened as money-grubbing vermin continued to spin absurd tales about what a monster I was, knowing that each of them had made between fifteen and thirty-thousand dollars for having lied to a crazy woman about what they could do, and knowing that they would likely lie again. There is an infinite supply of lawyers who will do pretty much anything for fifteen thousand dollars, and Cate Carter has proven money to attract them. What is interesting though, and I suspect related, is how clearly her fears have paralleled the general mood of the times. A general political climate of fear and irrational waste is paralleled in one woman. During the 1980's Ronald Reagan and his power-crazy backers thought it was a good idea to oppose Soviet atheists in Afghanistan by funding a bunch of semi-literate tribesmen known as the mujahideen. With huge amounts of money and access to advanced weaponry, the mujahideen managed to drive out Soviet forces, but left the world with such stunning moral actors as former playboy Osama Bin Laden, who would later become a problem. Clinton saw this emerging problem and targeted it. Ignoring the problem, George W Bush not only let the problem get worse but elevated OBL to super-villain status for use as propaganda. Yesterday, brave Navy SEALs finished off OBL under the command and instructions of Barak Obama. The damage that was done to our country by laziness, stupidity and ignorant waste, though, will take years to undo. A dominant climate of fear can produce and amplify fear. A dominant climate of crazy can amplify crazy. I suspect that this is part of what happened to my former friend, and I hope that both she and our nation will now come back more toward our senses. I last spoke with Carter in June of 1998, when she agreed to be in touch by my birthday that October. When she wasn't, I sent her an email and an unethical lawyer friend stepped in to threaten me in various ways that I found offensive and which were clearly against all sorts of legal ethics. When I later grew tired of sitting on some of Carter's abandoned property and lawfully returned it to her, Carter found a second lawyer to try and sue me for a civil restraining order, which was denied. Years later, in the middle of the great Bush fear opera, Carter's mental condition was such that thought a logical thing to do was to perjure herself in pursuit of a recreational lawsuit against me, having still not spoken with for almost a decade. Fear makes people do crazy things, and led Carter to spend tens of thousands of dollars on lawyers who claimed they could protect her from a projected neurosis. They couldn't, but they milked her for money anyway, and are probably gearing up to milk her some more, using exactly the same sort of false promises to fear-addled minds that Republicans are so good at. Muslims do not want to hurt the United States any more than I want to be in contact with Cate Carter, but slime play on fear to make money without no regard for the health of their victims. Since the World Trade attacks of 2001, cynical operatives have played out a great fear opera. Using false claims of imminent danger on the foolish and fearful, they grow rich while objectively destroying quality of life for "friend" and foe alike. I am hopeful today that, with Osama Bin Laden dead, the great fear opera of the last ten years may have its coda. I cannot but suspect that dominant cultural fear has contributed to the craziness made by Cate or attention over the past ten years. To the extent that it has been encouraged and fed, perhaps it shall be weakened simultaneously. In the next few months, I expect a court of appeals shall find against Cate Carter again, and I expect that her lawyers will encourage her to escalate. They will probably ask her for another ten to twenty-thousand dollars, because she can afford it and because they are greedy. Lying to fools is a sound business strategy, with the harm it does mere externality. May yesterday's events mark a turning point for our nation, lowering the general level of fear. May energies be better spent toward truth, health and beauty. May all see more clearly when fear is gone. May all of us be done with the great fear opera.

Armistice Day

rorybowman — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 15:02:01 GMT

I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month. It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one and another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind. Armistice Day has become Veterans’ Day. Armistice Day was sacred. Veterans’ day is not. So I will throw Veterans’ Day over my shoulder. Armistice Day I will keep. I don’t want to throw away any sacred things. What else is sacred? Oh, Romeo and Juliet, for instance. And all music is. - From Kurt Vonnegut's 1973 novel _Breakfast of Champions_

Vancouver Food Cooperative 2010

rorybowman — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 00:23:50 GMT

I had the chance to talk with a friend this weekend, whom I hadn't seen for a while. He asked about a food cooperative I was heavily involved in a few years ago. It gave me a chance to quickly relate what I believe happened to the Vancouver Food Cooperative, and what I suspect the future will bring. In anticipation of being asked this question again, I thought I would write some of it down, as a cautionary tale for others. The short version of all this is that VFC died from "founder's syndrome." In late 2004 two women named Heather Lehman and Sunrise O'Mahoney had a vision for a food cooperative and what seemed a rational plan to get there. Basically following guidelines set down Karen Zimbelman's 2002 book "How to Start a Food Co-Op" published by the Cooperative Grocers Information Network, they would form a buying club, recruit a steering committee and then sell shares to open a small grocery in west Vancouver. Following a modest working-class model that had worked before, the store would then repay startup costs over five to ten years and hopefully stay in business for decades to come. What actually happened was an ongoing series of increasingly grandiose plans, deceptions, delays and a collapse of community goodwill. In retrospect, neither woman had the basic competence or mental health to see the vision through. As importantly, Vancouver lacked the skills and competence to confront their increasingly vague and deceptive do-good rah-rah. As someone actively and passionately involved in the project, I had a front-row seat to the collapse. Although clearly more aspiration than operation through 2005, I felt that the original plan was workable and the best chance to bring accessible nutrition to west Vancouver, a "food desert" with only one open grocery. Economics of the modern grocery industry meant there would be no for-profit supermarket for the foreseeable future, but I felt that a Zimbelman-style cooperative was quite feasible for a variety of reasons, most of them related to what I call "the cooperative advantage" of "social capital." Food cooperatives are historically modest, working-class operations, which succeed in marginal areas because of broad community support. Democratically controlled and tightly focused on meeting the needs of their customers, they are inherently more responsive than most other business models, and can draw on a huge reservoir of diffuse "social capital." With community support, they can raise enough money to open, because opening and operating are their primary goals. They do not need to make a large financial profit and so focus on other priorities that their customers appreciate and will support. If the store is not the largest, shiniest or the most well-stocked, their customers will not abandon it as quickly because (A) they appreciate what it *does* do more clearly, (B) they may have invested in its success generally and (C) they have fewer other places to go. At their best, cooperatives are responsive and caring. At their worst, most co-ops are better than nothing. The key to success on this model is to be tightly focused on modest benefits to a well-defined group of member owners and a specific target market. In the early days of the Vancouver Food Cooperative, neither O'Mahoney nor Lehman were particularly committed to west Vancouver: one living almost fifteen miles away and the other leaving mid-game to live in New Zealand for a year. They also sought to recruit board members from too broad an area, losing the local working-class focus that I consider crucial to most start-up food cooperatives. They and their friends and most board members could and did shop elsewhere: they had no fundamental loyalties to the original vision of a modest grocery store for west Vancouver. This and certain personal psychological needs of the founders led very early to mission creep. Building something good took a clear back seat to seeming good or being associated with something grand: The grander the better. They forgot their original mission. Almost immediately after incorporating in early 2006, the board abandoned the Zimbelman model for a more grandiose strategy put forward by a nationally-focused group of consultants known as Cooperative Development Services. Primarily focused on established cooperatives, CDS consultants had astonishing amounts of good information on how to improve existing co-ops, and a very solid model for new co-op development called "four cornerstones in three stages." Unfortunately, almost none of the Vancouver Food Cooperative board members understood it or could place it in a relevant context. Heavily populated with vaguely interested do-gooders without business experience, the board ignored their previous plans and did not perform their due diligence by (1) understanding the CDS development model, (2) appreciating how that integrated with the Zimbelman model or (3) conveying those two clear models to the membership or (4) executing clear and simple steps demanded by the model. Without "skin in the game" they abandoned the original vision for increasingly grandiose models, and chose to focus on personal loyalties and feelings rather than the vision that had brought in the first hundred or so shareholders. Within one year, a self-selected board had completely jettisoned the buying club and community organizing aspects of the Zimbelman model for grandiose consultant dreams of a 6000-square-foot store somewhere in Clark County. They abandoned the original vision completely. More tragically, they deceived themselves and the membership about this change of plans. It was here that I resigned from the board, pending elections, but as elections came and went the board's vision grew even vaguer and more grandiose. Attempts by membership to clarify a specific vision, plan and timelines were strongly resisted. Clear plans, open meetings and communication with shareholders was abandoned, completely gutting the cooperative advantage. Many of the earliest and most dedicated supporters left the organization, taking their money, volunteer efforts and public support with them. The window for success was rapidly closing. It was obvious to me in 2005 through 2007 that the time was ripe for a modest cooperative grocery in west Vancouver, for several reasons. First among these was the market and the current state of the US grocery industry, which guaranteed that there would be no for-profit competition. Second was the increasing awareness of food issues and mindshare, particularly around issues of "local" and "sustainable," as evidenced by sales of Michael Pollan's book "Omnivore's Dilemma" and the migration of concepts such as "food miles" into the mainstream media. Third was the semi-organized nature of other food infrastructures: community-supported agriculture was emerging, there were more small-scale producers, farmers markets were chic but did not meet these needs. Specialty shops were clearly not viable. Fourth, and as important, was the obviously troubled economy. Start-up food cooperatives have always done better in times of economic crisis: the 1930's, the 1970's and now. There was a an emergent "third wave" of interest in new food cooperatives nationally. West Vancouver was demographically and economically ripe for emergence of a modest store that used a well-established cooperative model. There are three primary models in the past fifty years for the emergence of a new food cooperative. The Zimbelman/CGIN model is the surest and most common: a buy club becomes a small store that grows. Another model involves a cooperative taking over a failing community store, but that was not an option for Vancouver. The third model, to "open big" as VFC claimed to plan, has only happened twice in the entire history of food cooperatives that I know of: with the Just Food co-op of Northfield MN and River Valley Market in Northampton MA. Both of those came to fruition under the guidance of industry experts with decades of experience. VFC's 2008 plan to raise over a million dollars to open a 6000-square-foot store was delusional from inception but almost no one on the board or within the membership was willing to stand up and say so. In the 1970's there were over a dozen food cooperatives in Portland, most of which had closed by the year 2000. The two remaining co-ops were People's in southeast and Food Front in northwest Portland, which happened to be in gentrifying working-class neighborhoods similar in many ways to west Vancouver. The third current Portland food co-op emerged along Alberta, which is 10-15 years ahead of west Vancouver on the gentrification path. At the front of the latest co-op wave, Alberta is a profitable store that emerged with slightly better demographics than west Vancouver, but stores have emerged in less favorable areas, such as Yelm, Washington. A clear example of what is possible may be found in the Yelm Food Co-op, which paralleled the first modern food co-op in Rochdale, England, over 100 years ago. The Yelm food co-op began as a buying club and within a year had approximately $23,000. With this money, they rented a 1000-square foot space and staffed it a few hours each week using volunteer labor and ordinary household refrigerators, much as the co-ops of the 1970's had done. The logical sequence of expansion for creating a modest, working-class food co-op is to begin with a buying club that focuses on prepaid orders for bulk dry goods. This expands to prepaid orders for refrigerated goods to be picked up immediately after delivery. The next logical step is a small store-front with a finite inventory of staple items which expands gradually in size, inventory and operational hours by carefully monitoring costs around (A) what it stocks, (B) what it charges and (C) labor costs. One begins with dry goods that do not require refrigeration. One expands to some dairy and bulk produce buys. From there, as operational hours allow, one adds some produce inventory, beginning with the least perishable and then stopping. One does not aim to replicate a conventional grocery. One focuses on a finite space, inventory and operational budget, that minimizes labor cost and "wastage" from theft and rot. It is not glamorous but it works, if pursued in a competent way by people who understand the modest goal and the huge value of "social capital" for money, customers and working members who can take over a clearly-conveyed vision as founders and other key volunteers burn out. Vancouver Food Cooperative wounded itself and lost its way by (A) forgetting its original goals, (B) abandoning its clear and early plans, (C) focusing on personalities rather than product to (D) distract itself with grander goals and (E) deceiving itself and members about these repeated failings. A long series of well-meaning but incompetent directors lost its vision, ignored its systems and failed to raise capital, while trusting but disengaged owners mostly didn't not even bother to look on. Too late, in 2010, they may ave realized their error, but I feel that the window of opportunity has closed. The Vancouver Food Cooperative has promised too much for too long and lost the momentum and value of social capital. Many in west Vancouver think they are idiots talking among themselves with no clear plan to convey. And those people are sadly correct. The terrain has changed in the last five years and not for the better. As the economy has crashed, people have less money to invest in community visions than before, and "market timing" benefits from the economic downturn through have mostly been lost. Absent an angel patron sugar daddy, this game is mostly lost. The Zimbelman model assumes that early adopters have money to buy shares, some have money to loan and that commercial loans shall be available. Each of these is less likely for the next 5-10 years than it was for the previous 5-10. The availability of commercial loans has also decreased, and commercial loans were always crucial to even a modest store. As the vision of "local" and "sustainable" has increased, so have channels and habits around the acquisition of food. There are more small farmers in 2010 than there were in 2005, but more buying clubs, farmer's markets, CSA's and farm stands to absorb their produce. The goodwill of the general community is largely gone, and a variety of private actors are moving into the spaces that a modest food co-op could have filled. Supplement businesses such as Arnada Naturals at 1705 Broadway are operating. Neighbors Market at 1707 Main looks to provide venues for a variety of local products. VFC seems to have headed back toward the original Zimbelman model with a buy club and retail space at 215 West Fourth Street, but now faces a much harder slog. Most annoyingly, O'Mahoney and Lehman seem to have taken about $20,000 worth of professional reports paid for by Vancouver Food Co-Op to try and found the Little Luna Market at 115 East Seventh Street, whose failure seems certain. I don't think they did this maliciously because I don't think that they are competent enough to have done so, and I also don't believe their business model will work. Four may starve where one would feast, and so my guess is that these smaller businesses will fragment the market, be marginal for a few years and then close because they lack the cooperative advantage of social capital. I am afraid that the possibility of even a modest food cooperative for west Vancouver has passed for the next ten to fifteen years, after the current economic shake-up is over and demographic changes take us further down the road of gentrification. Another generation of children in west Vancouver come of age within a food desert. It is my view that Vancouver Food Cooperative failed for two main reasons, both of which may be endemic to Vancouver. First was a series of incompetent directors who lacked business experience and vision, and the sense to understand the advice they were given. Second was a naive and disinterested membership, who lacked the will and skill to hold their board accountable. As a community, Vancouver failed itself. Five people can start a successful cooperative and see it through to opening if they are the right five. Five hundred cannot do a third as well, if they are the wrong five hundred. And incompetent gossips concerned mostly with themselves cannot do much of anything but spread poison. May Vancouver do better next time. http://www.cgin.coop/how_to_start http://www.cdsconsulting.coop/fourcorner http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Founder%27s_syndrome http://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?key=0AlpxFRa6GRBgcGN1ODRkM01XNmdmNkdqY05OOWdhTWc&gid=4 http://ArnadaNaturals.com http://VancouverFood.coop http://LittleLunaMarket.com http://NeighborsMarkets.com/

Food Buying Clubs

rorybowman — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 23:59:44 GMT

I was recently quoted in a local article on buying clubs so thought that I would take this opportunity to write on them and why I think they are such a crucial piece of our food-system infrastructure at this time. As people may or may not appreciate, our present food-distribution system is a fairly odd and recent one. The idea that people should purchase brand-name foods at a supermarket only emerged in the last century with the first self-service grocery store, Piggly Wiggly, in the 1920's. Supermarkets emerged after this and were an innovation because they combined several businesses under one roof: the dry grocer, bakery, creamery, butcher, green grocer and pharmacy. In combination with suburbanization and the huge subsidies of the interstate freeway system, traditional supermarkets rose to the dominance in the United States after World War II, and were shortly replaced by the "hypermarket" of which Walmart is the best modern example. Before the first world war, most households purchased their food from a variety of more-or-less local sources. Today, industrial food distribution makes its money through extended shelf life and improved logistics. Global logistics. The more that whole foods can be turned into commodities and resold as value-added "convenience foods," the higher corporate profits. The problem with an industrial food system, of course, is that it mainly feeds industry. As the emphasis switches from local production of fairly nutritious whole foods to large-scale commodity farming by corporations, shelf-life increases but nutrition goes down. Engineered "frankenfoods" such as high-fructose corn syrup and genetically-modified organisms dominate the industrial food chain with resultant "hyper-palatability," obesity and health concerns. Concentrated economic systems also tend to steal resources from small-scale and local entities, such as young families and small farms. The dollar value menu replaces home cooking and the theory of three square meals and family dinners is replaced by Lean Cuisine and super-sized value meals. None of these things is good for human bodies, or for local economies. "Food security" refers to culturally-appropriate access to nutritious food: enough to lead an active and healthy life. At one end of the internationally-recognized "famine scale," food security is right next to "food insecurity," when people may go hungry, not know where their next meals come from or have to engage in socially deprecated activities such as begging, dumpster-diving or stealing to eat. Because modern grocery and food-distribution systems appreciably favor for-profit hypermarkets such as Whole Foods Market, Safeway (Von's), Kroeger (Fred Meyer) or WalMart, there are many areas in the United States that are "food deserts," without affordable access to nutritious foods. These include many low-income areas, which may be served by one marginal grocery store or devoid of wholesome grocery stores entirely: dominated by fast-food restaurants and "convenience stores" which feature higher-margin items such as beer, cigarettes and pornography more than fresh produce. When people do not have physical or economic access to nutritious foods, they cannot be said to be food secure. This is where buying clubs come into the picture. Buying clubs are groups of people who pool their resources to purchase foods that might otherwise be unavailable, whether those are basic staples or "specialty foods" within the distribution system such as organic foods, raw milk or grass-fed meat. Usually such clubs include a large number of young families because (A) they tend to have an adult interested in such things and (B) strong incentives to pursue them. Buying clubs of the early 1970's largely created the current "natural foods" niche market, through the creation of retail cooperative grocery stores. As or more importantly, though, buying clubs and food cooperatives provide access to wholesome foods in areas that have been abandoned or written off by the for-profit grocery industry. Not all buying clubs will become retail food cooperatives, though, nor should they. Buying clubs occupy a special place in the development of alternative food infrastructure, by creating awareness of more wholesome food choice and supporting small-scale producers who might otherwise be shut out by the dominant system. Not every family needs to select from 100,000 or more grocery items, and not every farmer or producer wants to provide cases or pallets of product to some corporate distribution center. By encouraging and supporting local economies with shorter supply lines, buying clubs help build more diverse, resilient food systems. One aspect of the modern logistics and supply-chain hypermarkets such as WalMart is that each household and store operates with fairly lean inventory. Many households do not have more than a week or two of groceries, if that, and I am told that conventional grocery stores may have even leaner reserves for key items such as dairy, meats, milk and bread. Weather events such as a snowstorm, hurricane or natural disaster may prevent resupply and easily lead to local food shortages. Shorter distances between producers and suppliers help with this, as do the development of stronger and deeper home pantries which food-buying clubs encourage. Some buying clubs aim to replace conventional grocery stores, while others are more specific and may focus on occasional or seasonal purchases such as produce for home canning or annual, whole-animal meat purchases. My own buying club has been around since approximately 2004 and focuses on bulk staples such as dried fruits, cereal grains and other things that the ten or so member households do not produce easily in their home gardens. Almost all of us have chickens and do a bit of gardening, so get by with a few orders each month from five or fewer suppliers each year. This may or may not be the right size for you. My own experience with buying clubs has led me to value the model established by the Seikatsu buying clubs of Japan. The Seikatsu Consumer's Cooperative is a national company that serves approximately 300,000 households of the 22 million consumer cooperative members in Japan. The Seikatsu group focuses on a couple thousand of key staple products where their efforts provide the greatest health gains. Each "drop point" consists of approximately ten families and each "route" has approximately ten drop points. Each distribution center serves approximately ten routes or 100 drop points. Distribution centers are coordinated at a national level, and I believe that this method of grouping households together is a solid one. A group of ten or so households is large enough to have significant buying power, but small enough to be cohesive and accountable. Such a group is large enough to share the work equitably, but small enough to be accountable. It is hard to shirk and easy to step up, thus avoiding freeloaders and "founder syndrome" burnout. The Roman Legions were organized into ten-man groups, for example, into mess-group "contubernia" which shared a single mule, mill, cook and cooking pot. Smaller groups can work for a time, but have difficulty sustaining over several years. Larger groups can gain access to more vendors and better prices, but tend to have participation and accountability issues. Commercial operations which try mimic the structure of buying clubs will find that the resultant loss of goodwill and need for profit margin will poison the concept, as commerce so often corrupts things. Although all Portland-area food cooperatives still standing emerged from buying clubs, not every buying club should aim to go retail. Any cooperation which helps you to get better food for yourself, your neighbors and your family is a good thing, but no buying club is utopia. Buying clubs are not the best way to get food, just sometimes better than the alternatives. Below are a few links on buying clubs or related matters that might be of interest. http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2010/08/food_clubs_put_power_in_custom.html http://www.seikatsuclub.coop/english/ http://www.westonaprice.org/news/1415.html http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grocery_store http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supermarket http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypermarket http://www.theendofovereatingbook.com/ http://michaelpollan.com/books/in-defense-of-food/ http://www.newtrendspublishing.com/SallyFallon/ http://www.wildfermentation.com/books_notmicrowaved.php

And So This Is Christmas

rorybowman — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 14:27:09 GMT

Well Catherine, This has certainly been an interesting year. First, you refused to vacate your gratuitous legal attack of 2006, then falsely accused me of felony burglary. When the police suggested an expensive mediation to address your fear, you agreed, then failed to appear. When this required much more expensive court action on my part, you contested. But again you failed to show such that, with your appeal, your actions shall have cost me nearly $20,000. Whatever the courts may finally decide, you owe me a significant moral debt, whose cash value is no less than eighteen thousand dollars, incurring annual interest at the federal prime rate plus two, beginning 25 February 2011. Please plan to pay it in full before returning to Oregon or Washington. In some ways I suppose I should thank you for this odd trial by ordeal. At Republic 361 Glaucon asserts that the most perfect justice is to be just but considered unjust, a situation no sane person would hope for. With no good intent or rational plan, you put me in a crucible which helped prove my temper as a matter of public record. For the rest of my life I may speak of this wrong: sure of what each did and confident of who I was and remained in the face of repeated, provocative insult. When you left me in February of 1998 there was a clear commitment to remain amicable, to work on things so that both of us could go on to better lives. Such lives presumably did not include legal threats on your part to file for a bogus restraining order, to make up self-serving stories to tell your friends or to repeatedly bring me into court with vague claims that I wanted to hurt you in some way and for reasons you could never specify. Your cartoon narrative never matched the facts and, not well when you left me, I was confused. When I sent you a banal 2003 birthday letter, I was surprised by the force of your irrational response, but naively gave you the benefit of the doubt as you repeatedly invoked the justice system against me in 1999, 2006 and 2008. When I asked you to voluntarily resolve this at no cost to you, you refused, hence my direct legal expenses. After twelve years and thirty-thousand dollars between us, what exactly do you have? You are in precisely the legal position you had in 1998, only older, tattooed, abroad and with fewer prospects. Moral integrity cannot be purchased like a Chinese child, but recompense can be made. Please do so. I don’t know if you ever graduated from Reed College, Cate, but I do know that you failed to become what you once wanted. How much of this was over-reach and how much moral or mental illness I shall never know. It is not my business. What is mine, though, is to wonder at the nature of your obsession with me. Are you guilty for things you falsely told me about my brother? For having left under the conditions you did? Did these betray the honor you felt you owed your mother’s memory? Have you performed some sort of secret Mormon sealing voodoo, or did you feel at some level that you deserved to die? Did you hope to taunt or frustrate me into killing you, that false stories of persecution would bring salvation? You are on your fourth lawyer as I write this and, from what I can see, have yet to think this through. You lurch from point to point like a drunken pinball, a disappointment to us both. The central fact of our current relationship, Catherine, is that you have used the legal system to harass and annoy me, for which you owe me nearly $20,000. Any additional emotional charge or issue you may hold is secondary: Yours entirely. Not my problem. I believe that I have shown compassion over the past fifteen years and shall, upon payment, be open to helping you address your psychological issues as you may wish. If you have a death wish, show up at my house with a weapon and I shall address it logically, lawfully and with mercy. If you do not have a death wish, pay me my money and go in peace. I do not really care much either way, but do not die with this debt unfulfilled. You are stuck, Catherine, and must resolve this. You have outlived your mother by raw count of years, which is more than I think you ever expected. What good that has done anyone is unclear. Your life could have been so much better, Catherine, and may yet be if you resolve this. What you did to externalize your guilt and other psychological issues is understandable, but your decision to abuse the legal system was wrong. I can forgive the psychological pain but the moral debt of verifiable legal costs is a just one. Please pay the moral debt made by Cate Carter, to go forward with my blessing. Happy Christmas, Catherine Lynne, wherever you may be. - Rory http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Happy_Xmas_%28War_Is_Over%29 http://catherinelynnecarter.com/2009/12/falsehoods-in-original-2006-petition/ http://catherinelynnecarter.com/2009/12/and-so-this-is-christmas/

Missing My Friend Steve

rorybowman — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 21:20:06 GMT

There are times when I still find your music in my soul There are days I think I see your face Many nights the twilight wind sounds so much like your voice Maybe I'm just missing you today - "Kevin's Song" by Dana Lyons, http://CowsWithGuns.com My good friend Steve Nelson died this past April. I was blessed to be in the room, and it was a good death but Steve was my friend since the mid-1980's and would often talk with him about odd and heavy things that others couldn't handle. When a former friend decided that I wanted to kill her, it was Steve who explained in some detail about what he thought had happened. When I wanted a lead on some odd craft project, he was often a good first person to call, and this week it was when I wanted some simple suggestions on the best way to prepare a whole, roasted pig's head. Practical perspective and ludicrous laughter were joined in Steve as they are in few people, and some days I miss him more than others. There were a lot of those days this week. May light return.

Make it Quick, Brother

rorybowman — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 22:27:40 GMT

President Obama's address at West Point this last Tuesday is as good a time as any to look at the broader issue of Prince George's Wars and how they might have gone differently, had they had any aim higher than looting the treasury. As a fierce secularist, I hate Talibans more than Soviet invaders, but also preferred Sadam Hussein to Iran's Khomeini. Elected leaders such as Mosaddeq would be preferable to all four, of course, but Middle Eastern culture of male supremacy under Islam is inherently undemocratic and blah blah blah. There will be no democracy in the Middle East until we stop propping up religious fanatics and allow the emergence of secular, socialist states. Our meddling has created long-term blowback that cannot be solved, but only stepped away from. President Obama has less than 24 months to get this right and get US the hell out of that accursed hole. Key events worth lamenting include • 28 April 1951 28 Mohammed Mosaddeq elected prime minister of Iran • 1 May 1951 Mosaddeq nationalizes Iranian oil • 19 August 1953 CIA overthrow of Mosaddeq • 1 June 1972 Iraq nationalizes oil companies but is strongly anti-USSR • 16 July 1979 United States supports Saddam Hussein in Iraq • 4 November 1979 Islamist overthrow of Iranian Shah by Ruhollah Khomeini • 24 December 1979 USSR invades Afghanistan, not withdrawing until 1989 • 23 October 1983 bombing of USMC barracks in Beirut leads to retreat by 26 February • 20 December 1983 Rumsfeld handshake with Saddam Hussein in Baghdad • 15 October 1984 Reagan operatives enter into treasonous negotiations with Iran • 11 August 1988 ostensible founding of Al-Qaeda, backing by CIA and Pakistani ISI • 20 August 1988 end of Iran/Iraq war leaves Iraq deeply in debt to SA, Kuwait • 25 July 1990 statement by US ambassador has "no opinion" on Iraq/Kuwait disagreement • 2 August 1990 Iraq invasion of Kuwait leads to First Gulf War 2aug90-29feb91 • 29 December 1992 dual AQ bombings in Yemen miss targeted US troops • 26 February 1993 first WTC bombing (Ramzi Yousef & Khalid Sheikh Mohammed later convicted) • 27 September 1996 Taliban capture of Kabul, ascendency to control of Pakistan • 28 May 1998 Pakistan detonates its first nuclear bombs • 7 August 1998 simultaneous AQ embassy bombings in Tanzania & Kenya • 12 October 1999 Pakistani general Pervez Musharraf seizes control in military coup • 14 December 1999 interception of AQ operative Ahmed Ressam at Canadian border • 12 October 2000 AQ bombing of USS Cole in Yemen • 20 July 2001 anti-aircraft missiles at G8 summit, GWB attends but sleeps on aircraft carrier • 6 August 2001 "Presidential Daily Briefing: bin Ladin Determined to Strike in US" • 11 September 2001 • 7 October 2001 official beginning of NATO invasion of Afghanistan • 2 December 2001 special forces move toward Tora Bora as Taliban flees Kandahar • 17 December 2001 Battle of Tora Bora ends as OBL and other AQ leaders escape to Pakistan • 20 March 2003 official beginning for US invasion of Iraq • 9 April 2003 famous "toppling statue" photo opportunity in Baghdad • 13 December 2003 Saddam Hussein captured • 30 December 2006 Saddam Hussein executed The Bush administration never wanted to capture Osama Bin Laden because he was far more valuable as a boogie man, and their plans for the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan were about funneling huge amounts of money to their contractor friends, not protecting the United States. Fans of USMC general Smedley Butler may recall in "War is a Racket" how the US military has long been used to protect financial interests, and much has been written elsewhere about US fears that Saddam Hussein would begin selling his oil only in Euros and how puppet Karzai was nominally in position to help build the UnoCal pipeline. Neither of these has anything to do with US safety, and our use of troops in these countries has been an astonishing waste of blood and treasure, enriching a very few well-placed corporations. President Obama is in a dangerous place, betting as LBJ did that more troops will buy him enough time to get out and win re-election in 2012. I hope so. An immediate draw-down in troops is the only sane national-security decision, and I hope that he is not as captive as he appears at the moment to be. Although the US could have accomplished a few key objectives by killing OBL and perhaps establishing a permanent airbase in Afghanistan, occupying these countries for the long-term by staying in cities is madness. It is, in my judgement, virtually impossible to establish democracy in an illiterate culture such as Afghanistan. Even if they were not tribal, patriarchal and corrupt, it would be a tough row to hoe. From a military point of view, it may have made sense to go in quickly, depose a few key leaders, then get the heck out. This would establish that we should not be fucked with, and allowed us to repeat as needed until bellicose leaders simply ran out. By choosing to invade and occupy we cannot ("never start a land war in asia") win. May President Obama bring troop levels down immediately, in both Afghanistan and Iraq. There are not enough troops to continue this war, and the basic issue is our dependence on Middle Eastern oil and our basic vulnerability to an Islamic bomb. The clock is ticking for us to get the hell out, and I expect there will be at least one civilian-killing nuclear detonation before this is over. May one be enough for us to come to our sense. Corporate control of the US government must be subverted, and the US military industry defunded, especially the covert bullshit which is Blackwater, Xe and the CIA. To hell with all those bastards. Get our people the hell home. The solution for Afghanistan, as it is for most democracies, is basic implementation of universal public education (with a special focus on female education, ideally to the age of 20). This will increase general household wealth and lay a foundation for democratic development through literacy and self-help at the family and village level. The smartest soldiers understand this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JYj7oX88vIE http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_Is_a_Racket http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/world/west_asia/21007.stm http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blowback_(intelligence)

This Day in Crazy, 2008

rorybowman — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 20:19:13 GMT

Those who know the longer-tailed story of Cate Carter's fixation on me over the past fifteen years or so sometimes ask at what point things with her crossed over from annoying to dangerous, and I usually cite November 18, 2008. This was the day I was contacted by Portland police about felony charges for allegedly tracking her down and breaking into her residence to steal a checkbook, a computer and two rolls of quarters, as told at http://catherinelynnecarter.com/2008/11/this-day-in-crazy and http://catherinelynnecarter.com/2008/09/ppb-investigation-report-05131-case-08093047 [Personal journal entry from 18 November 2008.]: I began my day with an interesting phone call from a Portland police detective. Apparently Catherine Lynne Carter has accused me of felony burglary, and the good detective would like me to consent to a DNA swab and a polygraph. I pause to savor the richness of my situation. A woman whom I have not spoken with in years, whom has accused me of various misdeeds before the court system and presumably lied about me in other contexts as well. Now, having seen some misfortune, she wants to blame that on me as well. Her guilty conscience tells her that she deserves to be punished, and she wants to believe she is important enough that I would bother. I tell the nice detective that I would be delighted to help his investigation if and when his complainant agrees to vacate the bogus order and charges she has made against me. He says he does not want to be made a pawn and I suggest that he talk to Cate Carter about that. I am not presently inclined to assist Ms. Carter’s abuse of the court system, up to and including false felony claims. The detective suggested that perhaps some sort of mediation and bond would be a way for us to put this behind us, and I ask him if he would like to arrange it. He declines and I tell him that I’ll get back to him this week. I contact a criminal lawyer and ask him what is the best way to proceed. For a just man the world is all the weapon he needs, and Carter’s self-centered love of her privilege and property shall work on her in ways I could never hope to. [Personal journal entry from 20 November 2008]: Recollection of phone conversation with detective Dan Andrew of PPB southeast precinct. On or about 4:45 pm on Monday afternoon, 17 November 2008, I received a voicemail message from someone identifying himself as detective Andrew of the Portland Police Bureau. I was driving and tried to do an automatic call-back from my cell phone, but there was no return number. Listening to the number again, I tried to memorize it and dial it back but apparently misheard the number and so reached a voicemail number that had not been set up. After coming to a stop (later that afternoon or the next morning) I listened to the message again and phoned with my contact information to (503) 823-5031. At approximately 8:50-8:55 on Tuesday morning, 18 November 2008, I received another phone call from a man who identified himself as detective Dan Andrew of PPB southeast precinct, who advised me that I was the primary suspect in a residential burglary involving Catherine Carter. My memory is that he said the burglary had occurred in southwest Portland, and that Carter had named me as the primary suspect based on a comment I had posted to Kevin Balmer’s Tribe.net blog on or about 11:40am on Sunday, 21 September 2008, the entire content of which read “You have nine days to help save approximately $10,000. Please do so.” This comment at http://people.tribe.net/heaveekevee/blog/7d2f3ec0-9cfe-4154-9c09-7f25d644cf38 was allegedly conveyed to Ms. Carter, whom interpreted it as a “veiled threat.” The detective advised me that the burglary had taken place at approximately the time indicated and that approximately $10,000 worth of property was taken, including jewelry and things that had belonged to her deceased mother. The detective then asked me to explain the comment. I explained that the comment was a reference to a civil case I was bringing against Ms. Carter and that the $10,000 was the estimated cost to both parties of the case that I anticipated proceeding with at the end of September, 2008. I expressed my regret that Ms. Carter had been victimized, noting that the death of her mother was the single central event of Carter’s life, but that I knew nothing of the burglary, had not spoken with Carter for more than ten years and did not have any idea where she lived or worked. The detective asked me if I would be willing to submit to a DNA swab and a polygraph in relation to the case and I laughed at him, indicating that I thought Ms. Carter was crazy and that I had no interest in assisting her in any way so long as the civil matter between us was unsettled. Detective Andrew said that there seemed to be some sort of odd issue between Carter and myself, which I confirmed, explaining that she has claimed that I wanted to kill her and has twice subpoenaed me with suits seeking a restraining order. Andrew said that this seemed odd, given that the relationship was not even a marriage and that both of us had “moved on with our lives,” noting that I seemed to be doing well and that I did not match the normal profile of a burglar. I confirmed that I had indeed moved on and was doing well, with my own business and a solid relationship of approximately seven years in duration. Andrew asked if my current partner lived with me and I confirmed that she did, asking her (she was in the room) what year she had moved in, 2002 or 2003? Our recollection was that my partner Anja had lived with me in Vancouver for at least five years, and that this was one of the reasons that I felt Carter was not mentally well. Andrew began to question me about the nature of my relationship with Carter and why she would think I would want to burgle her residence. I explained that her charges against me made me look “like a wife-beater” and damaged my career choices, given that my vocational degrees were in criminal justice and public-school teaching, both of which involved background checks. Andrew expressed that Carter was also concerned that I had posted about her past drug history on the Internet and that this showed up well in Google searches into her, suggesting that it might be possible for the five of us (Andrew, Carter, myself and our lawyers) for mediation. I laughed again and told him that this was an innovative application of community policing, and that I would be open to such a meeting if he would like to arrange it. He indicated that it would be odd for him to suggest such a meeting as a condition of my cooperation, and I told him that I would contact my attorney about possibly arranging such a meeting and the possibilities for my future cooperation in this criminal case. I laughed again and suggested that this was probably more interesting than other cases, and Andrew said that it was just more complicated, but that he would like to eliminate me as a suspect, since he assumed that Carter was the “random victim” of a burglary by “some tweaker” and that he didn’t “give a rat’s ass” about our relationship. I told him that I would discuss the matter with my attorney and have someone get back to him, before the call ended amicably. My recollection is that the entire conversation lasted approximately 20-30 minutes, because I left the house as I had planned to at the time of the call, and was approximately that late to my first appointment at [client name redacted] in southwest Portland. — 16:21 @ Java House Had a sobering conversation with my criminal attorney, Bear Wilner-Nugent, this morning. He advised me that even spurious charges could be a pain, as they could create a warrant and as much as two weeks in jail while I worked to post bond. I laughed but have to admit that yes, I am smart and confident and believe I am in the right: a dangerous combination. I agreed to keep my mouth shut and not even to give much information to Anja. Bear met with me and sent a letter to Callahan, offering to meet in regards to the matter. 16:27 Just got a quick three-minute phone call from Bear saying that the detective had returned his call and asserted that he did not have enough evidence to charge. Bear volunteered that we had no interest in giving him any more evidence, and noted that a polygraph would be inadmissible and the detective claimed that he was currently awaiting a return call from Carter about the case. Whether Andrew really is interested in helping to arrange a meeting or mediation I have no idea, but we’ve done our due diligence and Bear has started the meter. If there are calls and negotiations from Callahan, he’ll let me know, but for now it sounds as if nothing else shall follow. What a fucking pain in the ass and semi-unwelcome bit of excitement. In our conversation this morning Bear indicated that it would not surprise him if CLC was the sort of person who would blame me for any misfortune, and sympathetically noted that she definitely seemed a bit obsessed. On the theory that all action is communication, I’m hoping that her mention of me was some sort of subconscious reaching out, which indicates a willingness to rationally engage. It is not the way to bet, I know, but a girl can dream, eh? What a waste of brain cycles. I am glad she is not dead, nor that this call from a detective was to identify [another former friend recently in crisis].

Armistice Day

rorybowman — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 14:11:56 GMT

Must be Present to Win

rorybowman — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 16:27:35 GMT

Labor Day 2009

rorybowman — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 21:03:30 GMT

Labor Day this year shall probably see more people brushing up their resumes than camping by the lake and barbecuing hot dogs at home, rather than steak, but it is a terrific opportunity to consider all the many great things that organized labor and its allies have brought our culture through the years. "The people who brought you the weekend" have done much to improve our lives for over a hundred years, including such astonishing things and humane ideas as - Minimum wage laws - Industrial safety standards - Limits on child labor - The forty-hour work week - Overtime pay - Social security - Employer-provided health insurance - Anti-discrimination policies - Formal grievance procedures - Unemployment insurance - Assistance for families with dependent children - Written personnel policies generally In a time when so many people seem to assume that basic safety and rights are something each of us is entitled to, it is good to remember that each of these was hard-earned, and that there are forces that are working to roll them back under the guise of "company unions" and "right-to-work laws." Just as the military and police nominally provide some protection against outside violence, so the labor unions and other pro-labor activists provide economic protection for our communities. Whether you are in a union or not, whether you like unions or not, you and each of us owes a lot to organized labor and those who have fought and died on our behalf for decades now. Some Wikipedia links that may be of interest http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fair_Labor_Standards_Act http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newsboys_Strike_of_1899 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_U.S._minimum_wages http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Occupational_Safety_and_Health_Administration http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eight-hour_day http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Overtime http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_labor_law http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triangle_Shirtwaist_Factory_fire http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joe_Haaglund_Hill http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_union_busting_in_the_United_States http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wesley_Everest http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lawrence_textile_strike As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day, A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray, Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses, For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses! As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men, For they are women's children, and we mother them again. Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses. As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread. Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew. Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too. As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days, The rising of the women means the rising of the race. No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes, But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses. Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; Hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_and_Roses

Stockholm, Amstetten and South Lake Tahoe

rorybowman — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 15:54:06 GMT

I am normally not much for the gossiptainment complex which passes for news in 24-hour cable culture, but the story of Jaycee Lee Dugard has captured my attention, and I hope that I might have something worthwhile to say about this horrendous and bizarre crime in which an eleven-year-old girl was snatched outside her home and held for eighteen years by a convicted sex offender, who fathered two children upon her and kept the entire family in a small backyard compound. Not since the incestuous Austrian dungeon-keeper Josef Fritzl have I heard of something so titanically horrible, archetypal in its banal savagery. Having had some small exposure to victims of incest and sexual violence, it is important to understand that Ms. Dugard is probably in love at some level with her captor, "Creepy Phil" Garrido. He provided her with food for most of her life, presumably was her only sexual experience, and became the father of her children, whom she loves. Just as he had planned, Garrido became like God or His stand-in patriarch, in a way that Dugard will probably never unpack. Shortly after learning of the case, I saw a "time forward" conjecture picture of Dugard and immediately wanted to see a real picture of her, to satisfy my voyeuristic interest in how accurate such pictures were. The thing is, though, that Dugard can only vaguely be as she would have normally aged, at a physical and psychological level. Like thousands upon thousands of Muslim and Mormon women around the globe, she has never had the opportunity for a "normal" life as children of the enlightenment understand it. It is important that we appreciate this fact and not expect Dugard to become an after-school special, Movie of the Week or Oxygen Channel feature. Like feral children raised by wolves or Rousseau's Emile, Dugard is not like us and should not be bothered. She has drawn a bizarre hand in the great deal of fate, and it is important that she have space to figure this out, without the tawdry expectations of people like me, who are merely curious. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fritzl_case http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kidnapping_of_Jaycee_Lee_Dugard http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome

To everything there is a season, Shalom.

rorybowman — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 05:19:27 GMT

Fourteen years, thirty minutes, fifteen seconds I've held this grudge Eleven songs, four full journals, thoughts of punishment I've expended Not in contact, not a letter, such communication: telepathic You've been vilified, used as fodder, you deserve a piece of every record But who's it hurting now? Who's the one that's stuck? And who's it torturing now With an antique knot in her stomach? I want to be big and let go of this grudge that's grown old All this time I've not known how to rest this bygone I wanna be soft and resolved, clean of slate and released I wanna forgive for the both of us Like an abandoned house: dusty covered furniture still intact If I visit it now, do I simply re-live it, somehow gratuitous? But who's still aching now? Who's tired of her own voice? Who's it weighing down With no gift from time of said healing I want to be big and let go of this grudge that's grown old All this time I've not known how to rest this bygone I wanna be soft and resolved, clean of slate and released I wanna forgive for the both of us Maybe as I cut the cord, veils will lift from my eyes Maybe as I lay this to rest, dead weight off my shoulders will rise Here I sit, much determined, ever ill-equipped to draw this curtain How this has entertained, validated, and has served me greatly, ever the victim But who's done whining now? Who's ready to put down This load I've carried longer than I had cared to remember? I want to be big and let go of this grudge that's grown old For the life of me I've not known how to rest this bygone I wanna be soft and resolved, clean of slate and released I wanna forgive for the both of us I want to be big and let go of this grudge that's grown old For the life of me I've not known how to rest this bygone I wanna be soft and resolved, clean of slate and released I wanna forgive for the both of us - "This Grudge" from Alanis Morissette's So-Called Chaos, 2004