Friends of Pipeline DN and DW are going to the Northwest Angle, which I just recently learned is the name for that notch that sticks out of Minnesota and into Canada.  The Angle, is it’s known to the locals, is one of three places in the lower 48 that you can only reach by going through Canada, the others being some land mass out in Lake Champlain in Vermont, and a tiny island way up by Vancouver that is split by the international boundary and as recently as 1973 featured an ugly turn in American/Canadian relations.

But that’s not why I care about the Angle, so much.  I care because for all my life I’ve looked at that little notch that stuck out of Minnesota and wondered why anybody would bother creating a border like that.  As with most situations involving a border irregularity or dispute, lawyers were involved in the Northwest Angle’s creation, this time resulting from an interpretation of the Treaty of Paris.  Whatever the origin, the result is clear to anybody who looks at the map: We stuck it to Canada.  Well, Britain at the time.  But Canada ended up getting the shaft, as clearly the Northwest Angle (which is mostly part of the Lake of the Woods) should all be in Canada.  Alaska’s galling to lose, sure, but the Russians were also involved in some way there.  But the Northwest Angle?  That’s just embarrassing, to have a little notch of your country taken away like that.  A notch that doesn’t even matter; the U.S. just took it because they could.

Think that’s bad, though, look at Arkansas. Sure, you know Texas isn’t going to yield on the southwest corner.  (And boy, is Texarkana happy for that…)  But look at the way Missouri squeezes in up on the northeast corner.  Have some pride, Arkansas.  Even Oklahoma gets in on the act with that slanted border on the east side.  Oklahoma has to take what it can get, though, and that’s pretty much what it did.  You know you’re in rough country when you’ve got two panhandles beside each other, as with Oklahoma and Texas.  I crossed into the Oklahoma panhandle once from New Mexico at high rate of speed on a sunny day in a Nissan Pulsar T-Top.  Pipeline Person KR was at the wheel, Paul’s Boutique was on the stere, ere, o and for miles the sides of the highway were lined with deep green groundcover topped with bright yellow flowers.  As we crested a hill a valley sank from the gently rolling prairie, and inside the valley was a furry, shifting sea of black cattle and the deep brown soil of their immense stock yards.  Many cows, more than I thought possible.  But once out of the valley it was back to the rolling prairie, and then Kansas.  Sweet, sweet Kansas.

Clearly, though, no state has been so obviously wronged by another as Wisconsin has by Michigan.  What would Michigan be without it’s beloved Upper Peninsula?  Much smaller, for one.  It would be a hugely significant loss of real estate and character.  But anyone with eyes can see that the UP by all rights should be a part of Wisconsin, where it would be called Packerlander.  There would be a giant festival there called Sausage Fest.  And they would do Octoberfest for real, with the beer and the hearty serving wenches and the polkas.  But no.  It’s the UP instead.  Thanks, Wisconsin.

The most egregious notch in the lower 48 is that of Delaware, which is really just a part of Maryland that was carved out.  And yet Delaware was the first state, which makes it look like they didn’t know what they were doing the first time they tried it and had to go back for the rest to get it added on as Maryland.  I am aware there is a history related to how Delaware got created, but I’m just talking about how it looks today on the map.  And it looks to me like Maryland is doing Delaware a giant favor.  I don’t know where, but somewhere along the line Delaware’s founding fathers let the people of Delaware today down, as demonstrated by this dramatization.

Caesar Rodney: “I say, you mean we can just carve out any piece of this vast tract of land on the map and call it Delaware?  Jolly good.  And we get to be the first state?  Well, soil my knickers, Pierre, but what’s the right size for a state, do you think?  Whatever it is we’re to be the first state, which is a big honor, so let’s think extra big.  Not to mention, I’m going to ride 80 miles on horseback tonight, through a driving thunderstorm, to make all of this happen.  So let’s not hold back on how big we want to make Delaware.  Let’s go crazy.  Jolly good!”

Pierre Samuel du Pont de Numours: “Hail, Caesar!  There’s going to be hail in those thunderstorms; you’ll never make it to Philadelphia!”

But Caesar Rodney did make it, and as a result of large thinking today Delaware is the second-smallest state in the union and by the typology employed for our discussions here, a notch.  Now to be clear, I think Delaware was already laid out and Caesar Rodney’s midnight ride was only involved in Delaware being the first state to ratify the Declaration of Independence, which still makes his feat both historic and badass and thus perhaps an entrant to my human feat contest.  I merely used Caesar Rodney as an example of a famous Delawarian.  Fellow Delawarian Ryan Philippe will play him in the movie version of this midnight ride, if he hasn’t already.

I will post pictures of the Northwest Angle if they’ll send them to me.  Then we will debate which is better, the Northwest Angle or Four Corners.

Sure, Norm Coleman has had the database snafu, which is bad enough on it’s own terms.  But the most revealing part is his campaign’s laughable attempt to lay the blame for their error at someone else’s feet by claiming it was a “dirty tricks” campaign.  A parade of experts has made clear that Coleman’s camp not only ran an amateurish website and campaign finance operation, but they likely violated the law by not disclosing that they knew about the breach in January.

This reminds me of a story.  I once knew a man who ran for student body of a Big 12 school.  This man’s approach to the campaign was to mock the entire process and the people who took it seriously.  That said, he was a bright, large, charismatic guy, somewhat Keillor-esque, so he wasn’t viewed exclusively as a joke candidate; a lot of people knew him.  He ran on the Wild Turkey party because he found giant banners advertising Wild Turkey whiskey in a liquor store dumpster.  He then wrapped his mini-van in the banners and broadcast banjo music through a PA as he drove through campus.  At least, I want to remember it as banjo music.

His opposition, as a group, were Marmalard types who grew up on farms and had serious hard-ons for student government.  Election day comes and my friend wins by a slight margin.  Chaos spreads across campus as word gets out: the Wild Turkey Party has seized the machinery of student government!

But wait!  After two days, scandal erupts.  One of the polling places closed early.  Even worse, it was the one by the ag hall, which just happened to be a stronghold for the establishment party.  The campus newspaper devoted an entire issue to coverage of the election that hung in the balance and the decision to hold a new vote.  They also had extensive interviews with the losers of the first election, and the bitterness really flowed through the page.  Not only did they have some not nice things to say about their opponent, but they also predicted a handy victory in the next vote.  Well, the second vote came and they got their ass kicked by a much wider margin, because they really came off as jerks in the way they handled everything.

Now…I don’t know how my friend’s tenure turned out, because I left school.  It really may have been a disaster for student government.  Or, it could have been fun and productive, but gassy from too many cabinet meetings held at the Taco Slut.

But that’s not the point.  The point is that Norm Coleman reminds me of those guys who lost, and like them, Norm would get worked over much worse in his second–chance vote.

The fundraising’s probably not going so great right now, either.

That’s what’s happening here.  Late last night I issued a call to knowledge, for consideration of the greatest feats in human history.  I even suggested that going over Niagara Falls was a feat that bore consideration!  And today?  A distraught man leapt into Niagara’s Horseshoe Falls, plunged 180 feet into the icy water below, then resisted rescue and swam out into the river, weaving through ice floes to escape divers trying to save him.  It finally took a helicopter blowing him to shore with it’s blades (and severe hypothermia) to bring him in.  That is a feat.  But, I think you have to subtract points for the fact that he had a death wish in full effect.

So nice try, distraught guy.  Here’s a tip: If you want to drown, don’t swim.  But Philippe Petit is still the perpetrator of the greatest human feat, pending further considerations.

The other night I said to Pipeline Person CP, “I’ll bet the sports memoribilia market is really getting hammered in these tough economic times.”

CP: “You don’t think people are going to pay top dollar for those Brian Cardinal autographs?”

But some things retain their value, monetary and otherwise.  CP continued.  “My dad has a Ted Williams-autographed ball.  I’m pretty sure I told you this story before.”  It was true.  He had, but the only thing I could remember was that it was a great story.  No details.  I’m good that way.  But now I have the iPhone, and I take Notes.  Thumbs at the ready, the soft yellow glow of the notepad reflecting back on my face, I eagerly waited for him to continue.

“My dad grew up Cleveland, right, him and a friend go to an Indians game, hang around forever afterwards.”  (I forgot to ask CP what year this happened.  Is this the old, bitter crotch still tearing the cover off the ball towards the end, or the young, bitter crotch tearing the cover off the ball towards the beginning?) “Williams finally comes out, my dad asks him to sign his ball.  Williams kind of grunts or whatever, but he signs the ball and hands it back to my dad.  My dad’s friend holds out his ball and pen for his autograph.  Williams grabs the pen, hurls it into the street and snarls, ‘You get one fucking autograph!’, or something very close to that, and storms away.  Two guys, one ball, and it’s in a safety-deposit box right now.”

“Also, as the story goes, a car then ran over the pen.”

Memoribilia market or not, you can’t put a price on something like that.  Although perhaps CP’s dad’s friend could.

After consideration of Philippe Petit’s feat of spanning the World Trade Center towers on a hi-wire, I can’t think of a single human feat that can top that.  Neal Armstrong doesn’t count, he had a lot of help.  Einstein coming up with the theory of relativity is debatable I suppose.  I guess I don’t consider that a feat.  I’m talking about things that make you go “Damn!”  I’m talking about feats.  Like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel, or Bob Beamon jumping 29 feet, or Lindburgh crossing the Atlantic.  Something that would generally impress the heck out of people from any time in history.

I haven’t seen the Man on Wire movie yet, but Linus and Lily watched an excerpt at school and I generally know the story.  It’s a pretty good story just to get the wire set up.

Nothing can beat Petit.  The tallest cliff dive ever?  The guy who held his breath underwater for almost 10 minutes?  George Brett hitting .390?  Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock?  Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie?  Rasputin?  Sadly, no.

What is the greatest human feat?

From where I sit it appears that Facebook has reached critical mass in the last two months.  Not only are there more people from various points in my life coming online, but they are using more of the Facebook gadgets, something I absolutely did not foresee.  That, in turn, has me using the gadgets, and my wife, too.  For the first time last week Facebook started to feel like something more to me than just a portal to go play games on; there’s an actual conversation happening there.  It’s in very small pieces, and in some cases it’s just photos or a link or whatever, but there’s no question that it’s there.

Friend of Pipeline CC recently posted a review of two particular airlines there, the kind of thing that I ordinarily would have associated with a blog post.  Buy why not put that on Facebook, as he did?  More people will likely read it there, and it will be the people (in theory) who you most want to talk to anyway.  Targeted blogging, let’s say.  I can certainly see some advantages.  For one thing, there is site consolidation.  Maybe I don’t have to deal with WordPress and can just do Facebook, although WordPress is no problem to use.

But…there needs to be a Pipeline.  Facebook pages all look the same to me.  I like that blogs, even via a template like WordPress, take on their own character.  Also, I sometimes publish questionable material (quality and/or taste) that on Pipeline I can at least pretend has a certain anonymity to it.  I don’t think I could do that on Facebook if that was my sole outlet.

I’m told that I could do the same with Twitter, if I were a part of that deal, which so far I am not.  This may not be a fair characterization because I’m not familiar with Twitter, but I’m striving for longer-form content of decent quality, not shorter form status and spur-of-the-moment pith.  Reading people’s Facebook statuses, it’s clear many people can come up with a daily clever saying of 50 characters or less.  But how many people can take that same simple concept, stretch it out to 1200 words, add an average of 20 extraneous commas per post, and call it a blog?

One, at least.

This is a test post to see if I can get content here to publish simultaneously on facebook.  So now I can have more than one outlet with a lack of posts…

Friend of Pipeline CP is pursuing his PhD in mythology.  It took me a long time to understand exactly what that meant and why mythology is relevant today, but it turns out it is.  Whether you’r talking about ancient civilizations or modern ones, humans have a need to make sense of the world.  Mythology, along with religion, science, and talk radio, are the main ways people have done that.

One example of a universal myth is the trickster.  Most cultures through time have a trickster mythology, a figure that represents the ability to upset the natural order.  This could be Loki in Norse mythology or the coyote in southwestern cultures, or it could be…Bugs Bunny or Stephen Colbert today.

Naturally, an interest in mythology will correlate to an interest in ancient cultures and the way they viewed the world, and for that reason CP ends up absorbing a lot of interesting material about diverse parts of history, art, and thought.  He has recently been attending a lecture series offered by a group of people associated with the Global New Thought movement.  Based on my own extremely limited experience, these are people who have their spirituality cranked up to somewhere between 8 and 11, but find that traditional religion isn’t for them.   They tend to look for other sources of inspiration and knowledge, like astrology, gnosticism, and several other things I don’t understand or particularly believe in.

In January, CP asked me to go to one of these lectures to hear Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer, recent challenger for the Democratic senate seat from Minnesota.  I had heard Nelson-Pallmeyer speak on the radio and thought he was pretty good; his overall emphasis is on peace studies.  I’m not a big peace studies person, but I do generally support peace, so why not?  Unfortunately, at the last minute I couldn’t go so we figured we’d try another time.

Another time came on Valentine’s Day, bright and early.  The subject for this lecture was the Mayan calendar, and the fact that it ends (sort of) in 2012, which is perceived by some people as being a prophesized End of the World.  Technically, the Mayan calendar is not coming to an end in 2012 (or October of 2011, depending on who you ask), it is simply ending one 5,000-plus year phase and starting another.  But apparently that’s close enough to end times for people who really like to think about things like that.

Normally when people start talking about end times I start looking for the door, but not before I can score some personal gratification points in a meaningless tit-for-tat about the inconsistencies of living a terrestrial life with concerns about hygiene or gainful employment when the end of the world is close at hand.  But this time I decided I would take the academic approach and simply take it all in.  If things got too esoteric or boring I could always quietly play with my iPhone in the back of the lecture hall.

As soon as we arrived I knew there was trouble.  There was no lecture hall.  Instead, there were about 30 chairs arranged in a circle in a church basement, a classic group therapy arrangement.  Soon I’m wearing a “Hello, my name is…” nametag; CP filled mine out for me, so I couldn’t even use a bogus name like Brigham Young, which is my standard bogus name, or perhaps more appropriately for this crowd, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, Jr.

CP could sense my apprehension, but I figured I’d play it cool and just follow his lead.  Nothing to worry about, you’re just in a church basement with a bunch of End Timers.  It’s no big deal.  First thing, we went around the circle and all 32 people were asked to talk about what 2012 meant to them.  And wouldn’t you know it, 2012 meant something to every person who went before me.  Now if they’d asked about 2112, the classic Rush album, that would be something else.  I know that record, and not just because The Trees is on Rock Band 2.  And I probably could have talked about 2112, because it’s plausible that people into Global New Thought might have been into Rush before they were crushed by the weight of impending doom, first by Y2K, then by 9/11, then by the revelation that Pluto isn’t really a planet, which fucks astrology, and finally by the year 2012.  Instead, I smiled and said 2012 didn’t have much of a meaning to me and that’s why I was there, because I’m a seeker of knowledge and free donut holes.

As we made our way around the circle there were the required references to Bob Dylan, consciousness, mescaline, Saturn, Jupiter, the light and the dark, and donut holes.   Based on the respsonses it was clear there were people there like CP, who primarily had an academic interest in 2012.  But on the whole, I would say most of the people were there to fill a spiritual need.  Some gained from simply learning about the Mayans, and the scope of human time and perception.  Other people were primarily concerned about 2012 because it was the next chance on the calendar for a higher power to assert itself, to validate the negative thoughts we have about ourselves and the human condition.

Some of them recognized this tendency and made light of it.  One guy introduced himself by saying he was still concerned about Y2K.  That drew big laughs, followed by concerned furtive glances around the room that maybe we really didn’t have Y2K licked yet.

Now, look, I was a spectator to this world for a couple of hours, that’s all.  These all seemed like good people, and I appreciate their thirst for New Thought.  And for that reason, I refuse to make light of some of the things I heard there.  But, because I know Pipeline People have the same academic interest in the Mayan calendar and the year 2012 that I do, I will list some of the highlights of the discussion so that you can also be prepared for whatever may come in 2012.  Or October, 2011.  Whichever comes first.

Highlight #1: “I don’t believe in astrology AT ALL.  But my mother was an astrologist and I was raised in that tradition, so I put together about 10 pages of notes and diagrams here to show you the significance of what just happened this morning at 5:38 AM EST, which some might say is the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius.  And of course, this alignment matches up with the alignment of the late 1960’s, and we all remember what happened then.  (Knowing nods and “ahas” from the crowd, of which only two, CP and myself, are under 50.)  And, well, when you match up this planetary alignment with the fact that we are so close to 2012…”  Her voice tailed off, for it was no longer necessary to speak.  Everything was clear.

Highlight #2: After dividing into small groups, we were asked to share 5 visions of the world if 2012 turns out to be an “end” in a good way, for example if Obama is really a time-traveling Mayan shaman who will bestow consciousness and succulent pineapples upon the globe, and 5 visions of the world if 2012 turns out to be an “end” in a bad way, like extinction of the human race, or higher income taxes on the rich to pay for national health care.  On the bad side, I wrote that the future might feature pandemics, resource shortages, and a widening rich-poor gap.  I was feeling pretty good about those answers until we got to the group discussion, where the people in my group wrote things like “darkness”, “evil”, and “television”.  But they all agreed that pandemics, resource shortages and a widening rich-poor gap would probably be bad, too.

Highlight #2, part B: My “good” vision of the future was that people would come to recognize that spiritual fulfillment was possible without signing on to spiritual determinism; i.e., that people would recognize that they control their own lives, not the stars, and not the non-Obama Mayans.  The rest of my group’s vision of a good 2012 outcome was that people would attain consciousness.  I agreed that consciousness was good, unless surgery was involved.

Highlight #3: To illustrate a point I was making about the importance of sustainable development, I referenced Star Trek, a world where people basically had jobs to contribute to society, but no real need for income.  (Which, as an aside, shows the fierce intellect I bring to these matters.  Next week I’ll wow them with a Gilligan’s Island reference.)  The woman who was NOT into astrology went off at the mention of Star Trek.   “What a charade that show was!  When that first came out in the 1960’s everybody said, ‘Oh, look, this is the future!’  But it wasn’t real, it was a total sham, that wasn’t about the future at all.  But all people cared about was space.  And now look, that man from that show is practically a comedian now, playing a lawyer on some other show!”  I made eye contact with another woman in the group, who sheepishly offered, “He’s just an actor, though.”

We ended the session by sharing each group’s thoughts about the dark and the light with the larger group.  I was surprised to learn that my group wasn’t unique, that virtually everybody there responded to their visions of the future with symbolism like “dark” and “light”; there were almost no specifics beyond some general hope that Obama represents a change away from our worse selves.

When my turn came, I shared my views on spiritual determinism, that most of the problems that befall this world can be solved with political solutions-we can choose better policies to help close the rich-poor gap, or better allocate resources.  And the way we get better policies is to be better informed and more engaged in the political process.

People nodded and smiled, the same way I was when they were discussing the dark and the light.  Oil, meet water.  But, perhaps there’s something in human nature that leads us to these outcomes, regardless of the policies.  Maybe it really is just about the dark and the light, and we will end up wherever the Mayans or Nostradamus or the magic 8 ball portend.  On the other hand, maybe better government regulation of food producers and appropriate levels of funding and awareness really can reduce the chances of a pandemic outbreak.  That’s light beating dark in action.

Despite these differences that would normally have me rolling my eyes, I found the discussion both interesting and, for lack of a better term, humanizing.  We definitely approached the world in different ways, but that’s OK.  As our time was winding down I looked around the room and thought, “These people are all crazy, but in a good way.”

Then this happened: We ended the session by standing and holding hands with the people beside us, making the circle one.  For reasons I can’t articulate, this kind of thing bugs me.  I’ll hold hands with my wife and kids, and maybe my dog if we’re trying to impress somebody, but generally speaking I have a “hands off” policy.  When combined with discussions of spritual issues in the basement of a church, what had been an academic curiousity became something else…something churchy.

So there it was: CP had taken me to an End Timer’s Indoctrination Ritual.

And it would have been fine, mostly.  I mean, I’ve got no problem holding hands with CP, necessarily.  I just hadn’t thought of doing it before.  Ten seconds passed, then 20.  I’m speaking literally, it was that long.  Twenty seconds is a long time to hold anybody’s hand, much less two people.  Thank God I didn’t have to hold hands with three people.  I started to feel warm, possibly because I hadn’t removed my various layers of clothing at the beginning of the event, part of my effort to stay aloof and flexible in case I needed to leave immediately.  At the 30 second mark I felt like I was going through reentry; sweat was beading on my forehead and under my arms.  And although “science” hasn’t yet proven this, I know that being really hot during a moment of complete group silence makes you 30% hotter than you were originally.

At 40 seconds I realized you could actually time this silence with the Mayan calendar.  I began thinking about how I would describe this experience to Jane, and an image came to my mind from a wedding we attended last May which featured a beautiful Ojibwe drumming ceremony performed by the bride’s brother.  As sometimes happens, her brother was fully into the ritual, which took some time to build to a close.  This happened on a warm Kansas day, and as the drummer’s rhythmic playing and chanting grew more intense I started to feel warm, possibly because I hadn’t removed my various layers of clothing at the beginning of the event, part of my effort to stay aloof and flexible in case I needed to leave immediately.  As the sun was scalding my neck I felt as though I had entered my own trance, one characterized by a vision of me spontaneously combusting to the sounds of the beautiful Ojibwe song .

This, unfortunately, made me laugh.  Out loud.  Both times, the first time I thought of it at the wedding, and the second time while holding hands with CP and a woman who believed 2012 was the merely the end of one important era and the beginning of another, and all the typical upheaval that accompanies these times will happen, are happening, this time as well.  Thankfully no one heard me laugh at the wedding, but here it was different.  I coughed, sort of, to disguise what had just happened.  My laugh/cough was the only sound in the room for a full 90 seconds.  On the drive home CP asked if I was laughing or coughing.  I told him it was both.  Then I asked him to let go of my hand.

I’m glad I went.  I did learn a lot, actually.  And although I mostly deride astrology and religion and the like, I do see the value in discussing these things with people, even (or perhaps especially) with people you don’t know.  It’s good to try on other perspectives, and this ended up being a worthwhile experience.  Unfortunately, Jane had to mar it with her insensitive comment about me and my boyfriend CP going on a Valentine’s date to hold hands and talk about the future.

Bobby Jindal and the GOP didn’t get the memo re: Change, did they?  Sometimes seeing the writing on the wall isn’t enough; you have to plow through the wall and see things through to their very end before rebirth can happen.  Permanent majority indeed, Karl Rove.

I have watched with interest to see how the political/news media would cover Obama.  More precisely, I have been thinking about what the intersection of the 24 hour news cycle and the cable TV/radio echo chamber and Obama’s deliberate manner will look like.  To me, what it looks like is that Obama sets the agenda, lets the various actors play out their chosen roles for symbolic value, and ultimately ends up with whatever his agenda was designed to accomplish.  This is pretty much the bill he said he was going to seek in terms of scope and dollar amount, with bi-partisan support (just enough). Certainly, there was dialogue between the GOP and the White House, so I think his claims to a bi-partisan bill are deserved.

I’m not particularly interested in arguing about whether the 65/35 split between spending and taxes is right or wrong, or what the line items are.  That’s why I vote for other people, so once their election is eventually certified they can go and vote and make those decisions on my behalf.  I think the act of the spending itself will be the important part.

But it doesn’t seem like I’m hearing much about this being a win for Obama; no matter whether you think the spending is right or wrong, you’d have to say he’s hitting the ground running and is primed to push more of his agenda down the road.  I would have said that would be medical reform if the Daschle thing hadn’t happened.

How many millions of recent broadcast and print words offered up as media filler did Obama obliterate with his simple statement about the wisdom of heeding spending caution offered by people who doubled the debt in eight years?  When your rebuttals are that complete and that short, it’s hard to fill the news cycle.

It’s the same pattern he showed in the election, of course.  An issue comes up.  The media and his opponents hyperventilate until they run out of breath.  Obama appears calm, despite scrapes that have to be overcome, and he ends up getting mostly what he set out to get.  Did he get all of his appointees?  No.  But as far as setting the agenda and working the process…it seems like he can do that.  And it’s clear there aren’t going to be any ideas coming from the GOP that will be going anywhere.  If Obama can get this stimulus package, he’s going to get most of what he wants.  So expect this coverage pattern to continue in the cable/radio/print world for awhile: Obama bungled this thing, Obama and the Dems are wasting that opportunity, blah, blah and so on.  Meanwhile he’s transforming the country and getting those gray hairs for the trouble.