(English) I got nothing

(English) wolves

Ownership and property are the cornerstones of the modern society. But where do they come from? Where are they going? Do they have a ticket, or are they just getting a free ride? And more importantly, are they real?

The sense of ownership is but a refinement of a much more basic and raw force within us: the territorial instinct. And we are not the only ones that possess one. Wolves have it. Birds have it. Even the bees have it, although it might be argued that for the later we should consider the entire bee-hive as an organism.

Territorial instinct, the spatial awareness of our boundaries, is so important that it is hard-coded in the genes. Wolves born and bred in captivity become nervous and agitated when they are introduced to the territory of a wolf pack, and the only way to calm them down is to bring them back to “neutral” territory. Simply put, they’re scared howlless, as well they should be, since the pack would rip them to shreds if they were stupid enough to linger on these foreign hunting grounds.

The reason territory is so important for a wolf – and for other animals as well – is because it is a cheap way to avoid confrontation. In the wolf world, confrontation is not sought, nor desired; victory in a fight to the death oft comes with its own price of grievous wounds on the part of the victor. The pack would have to care for him and nurse him back to health, if possible, and a valuable hunter would be temporarily or permanently lost. Wolves risk confrontation, but only as a last resort – for instance, if food becomes so scarce that the alternative is death by starvation. Otherwise posturing and grandstanding will suffice – and if that doesn’t work, running is always better than dying. At least for a wolf.

The tribes from the forgotten dawn of the age of mankind were quite similar in approach and social organization to a wolf pack. The most experienced and successful hunter assumed leadership, and the others would follow. The catch was shared within the tribe, to each according to their needs in times of plenty, hunters first in leaner times. It was a rather communist society in that regard, and possession, as much as it was, would be enforced by strength alone. Do not imagine that these men were constantly fighting amongst themselves – that would be as stupid for them as it was for the wolves. Instead, there would be trials and games, enough to assert one’s domination without endangering the tribe.

I do not know how ownership as we know it came to be. Perhaps the practicality of giving the best weapons to the best hunter was turned on its head, so that the one with the best weapons was considered the best hunter. Those weapons thus became a symbol of power, and even if their bearer would only be mediocre, he would still enjoy the benefits associated with them. Ownership is power manifest, and the power was for the first time in history derived from a mere symbol. The world’s first currency was born.

In today’s world, ownership is still power. I own a house, therefore I am entitled to do with it whatever I want. But instead of manifesting the power to hold this possession, I – and you, and everyone – delegated it to a symbolic entity called state. We empowered the state to assert our claims of ownership, and we called this empowerment “law”. Thus, when I say that I, by law, I am the owner of the house, what I mean is that the state allows me to stay in it and protects me from those who would seek to take it from me. I am recognized as owner by the state via a piece of paper, a so-called title of property.

Could the state choose to do take this property from me? Indeed it could, and historically this has happened countless times. If the majority agrees to this, the state is allowed to pass laws to confiscate my property without compensation if need be. The state must do everything in accordance to its laws, as an expression of the will of the people. Even if the laws are immoral or unjust. The majority hath spoken.

And if the state collapses? Then, as portrayed in countless post-apocalyptic books and movies, I will own only what I keep others from having. I’m sure that, given three or four determined individuals with baseball bats, I could be persuaded to give up what I have. And if they’re starved to boot, I’d better run pretty damn fast while enacting this donation. What would  my possessions be then? And what would be their worth?

Indeed, all I own is some paper. With that and a match I can light a fire before the wolves get here.

sâmbătă, 23 ianuarie 2010 Mic ghid existential View Comments

Alb, orașul

snowed bikeOrașul: alb pe alb, fuioare de fum risipindu-se alene în calmul dimineții. Ninge potolit, aproape invizibil, cu fulgi mărunți și aspri ca grăunțele de nisip. În largul Mării Nordului, curentul Golfului și-a luat vacanță și s-a retras spre Kalaallit Nunaat – Grønland, odată verde, azi giuvaer de gheață. De fapt, oceanului nu-i pasă cum se cheamă insula căreia îi încălzește acum țărmurile ca pe vremurile apuse ale lui Erik cel Roșu. De fapt, oceanului nu-i pasă câtuși de puțin.

Alb. Vecinii mei batavi, înfofoliți ca pentru expediție, își curăță trotuarele cu gesturi aproape vesele, de copii puși pe șotii. Zâmbesc și mă salută. La mulți ani. Beste Wensen. E frig în Olanda la minus patru grade. Îmi amintesc de alte ierni, cu troiene mai înalte decât ochii mei de copil, ierni cu Crivăț și ger și foc de lemne în sobă, și îi salut la rându-mi. Beste Wensen. Cele mai bune dorințe. Pentru noi toți.

E liniștit orașul, tăcut sub două palme de zăpadă, uimit pesemne de această iarnă neașteptată și străină, o imigrantă rusoaică trecută de prima tinerețe, cu un zâmbet șmecheresc și ochi albaștri-oțelii. Copii gălăgioși, cu zulufi blonzi își încearcă patinele pe canalele înghețate bocnă peste noapte, sub privirile îngăduitoare ale părinților. Doi oameni de zăpadă cu priviri agere și nas de morcov stau strajă intrării în parc. Este voie?

De rătăcit ne-am rătăcit cu toții în această nouă, neașteptată Narnie. Puțini dintre noi însă ne dorim să nu găsim drumul înapoi – sau cel puțin nu încă. Mai lasă-ne un pic afară, mamă, nu e întuneric încă și ne jucăm așa de frumos… Luminile orașului se aprind una câte una, umbre galbene plutind pe albastrul zăpezii înserate. Închid ochii și gust în vântul iernii miresmele zăpezii de-altădată.

duminică, 10 ianuarie 2010 Viata ca o prada View Comments

(English) Thorium-based reactors – the “green” nuclear energy?

(English) nuclearDo you know why we use uranium-based nuclear reactors? Yes, those dirty catastrophe-in-waiting plutonium-breeding waste-generating answers to today’s energy problems. Apparently, it’s precisely because they are a source of weapons-grade plutonium; back in 1965, the cold war was a factor in favouring the dirty tech over the clean one.

According to this Wired article, what we should have chosen was thorium-based reactors. They’re cheaper, they’re cleaner and they produce much less nuclear waste, which gets neutralized within about 300 years, as opposed to thousands of years for current reactor by-products.

I recommend you go read that article. For extra brownie points, have a look at this video; it’s a 16-minutes mash-up of several Google Tech talks about generating thorium-based energy.

duminică, 3 ianuarie 2010 Inginerii View Comments

The Scar by China Mieville

Perdido Street Station by China Mieville

A Working of Stars... by Debra Doyle, James D. Macdonald

The Stars Asunder by Debra Doyle, James D. Macdonald

Overtime: A Tor.Com Original by Charles Stross