Jlknapp505's Blog

Pomperipossa in Monismania..

I’ve been the primary caretaker for a disabled adult son. That task ended yesterday. The illness took him from me and now I’ve got to get through the raw pain.

I’ll get through it the same way I got through his long, cruel illness. I’ll write. Only in writing have I found an escape. In the past year I began writing fiction; until that time I wrote this blog and a number of short essays for friends on Facebook.

I woke up this morning at 4am, after the sleeping pills wore off. Since then, I’ve written introductory chapters to the next two novels. Television, even reading, are too superficial. My thoughts drift away to Kevin. But that doesn’t happen when I write. For you who suffer, I offer my own experience. Try it. It works. Write, share your thoughts and your emotions. And sometimes, share your tears as well.

So I’ll dedicate this short essay to my wonderful son who fought hard until the end, never blaming others for the unhappiness the disease brought him.

Kevin Knapp, born in May of 1970, taken from us in March of 2014. Rest in peace, beloved son.

Time to take a break from writing.

I’ve written four novels, about 400 000 words total (including revisions) in the past year. I’m not burned out, but I’m ready to take a little time off from writing and get the books ready for publishing. All of them are in reasonable shape except for cover art, title pages, and an interactive Table of Contents. That last is the only thing that’s kicking my butt; it’s done almost-automatically if you’re using Word for Windows, but it must be done manually if you’re using Word for Mac. And so far, nothing is working.

Still, I anticipate publication next month. I’d rather take the time to do it right instead of hurrying, and that’s why it’s taking so long. The books are part of two series, The Wizard Series and the Darwin’s World Series. The titles are Combat Wizard, Wizard at Work, Darwin’s World, and Darwin’s World II: The Trek. I’ll be publishing under my name, Jack L Knapp. I hope you’ll watch for them. I think I’ll publish on Amazon first, possibly on Smashwords later.

So if you’ve wondered why I abandoned this blog, that’s why. I’ve been too busy writing fiction.

On the Evolution of Slavery
I’ve been musing about this. I tried google but no one appears to have considered how the institution actually evolved.
I have a few ideas, sparked not so much by slavery as by working out the plot for my trilogy, Darwin’s World.
I came up with a few things, the first being this:
Good ideas, taken too far, aren’t.
The corollary to this is obvious: All bad ideas began as good ideas.
So how did slavery evolve and how did it morph from a good thing to an evil thing?
Consider warfare. In the stone age/bronze age, warfare became an organized thing. Armies were small, ad hoc collections, but they had a ‘general’ and changed from an individual versus individual combat to a group versus group endeavor. The latter were fought for economic rather than personal reasons, although individual combat may have been fought for economic reasons too. But rarely are ‘wars’ fought for such things as possession of a woman, Troy being possibly an exception.
So wars are fought over possession of lands, trading routes, mines, whatever; economics. Later they were fought because of religion, but both types had things in common. And religion was associated with slavery in almost all cases.  Slaves taken by an Islamic kingdom might escape slavery by becoming Muslim, and later Christian priests enslaved the Native Americans and used their labor to enrich the Church.
When individual combats became group combat, what do you do with those you’ve defeated? Especially with primitive weapons, there are likely to be more survivors than corpses.
If you kill them all, they’ll soon realize this and fight to the end rather than surrender. The victorious side takes more casualties.
But if you capture your enemies, keep them as slaves, you’ve turned a liability into an asset.
What to do with them after that?
Rome, Greece, and the Native-American Apaches incorporated their captives into their own society. Not always, of course; late in the respective periods when this process was the norm, economics had begun to be a greater factor. In primitive times, a society/tribe could adopt the captives and thereby replace losses. Later, victorious generals used captives, sold as slaves, to enrich themselves.
Slavery morphed from a solution to what should be done with captives to something that supported a leisure class. Africans captured other Africans and sold them as slaves. Those are the slaves we’ve come to understand, economic property. But there are other forms of slavery.
Some of those forms are permitted, even celebrated, today. Still, at bottom, they’re slavery, suitably modified for public approval.
An early form of slavery was the indentured servant. Another form was the apprentice. In each of these, an individual ‘sold’ himself or was sold by someone with the power to do so, a parent or guardian perhaps. In each case, the ‘slavery’ was for a specified length of time and was done in exchange for something of value, perhaps sea transport to North America or transferring of skills from a master artisan to the apprentice.
So in what form is slavery still practiced and even celebrated?
Consider military service. Are servicepeople not ‘bound’ by oath? Are they not subjected to severe penalties, including execution, for ‘disobedience’? Are they not ‘loaned’ to other ‘masters’ in order that the original holder of their bond profit? Consider some of those loans; Afghanistan, Iraq, Vietnam, drug assistance to nations of South America. Can they not be ‘enslaved’ via conscription? Is this practice different from the ancient British press gang for impressment of unwilling men to serve on board ships?
Extend this practice to the civilian world: what is Walmart other than a cheap slaver?
At least Ol Massa fed, clothed, and housed his slaves. Walmart depends on government assistance for those things. Housing subsidies, SNAP (food stamps), these are how minimum wage employees must supplement what Walmart pays. Or in the case of McDonald’s, another cheap slaver, they’re expected to work two or three of those part-time, minimum-wage jobs if they want to have an independent existence.
And what of health care? Ol Massa kept his slaves healthy, minimum wage slavers demand the government do it or that people go without health care.
Cheap slavers…
One of the good ideas I mentioned above that morphed into a bad idea is capitalism.
Remember that leisure class I mentioned above? We’ve got it, in spades. Consider the salaries paid to Walmart’s ‘associates’ and then compare that with what the company CEO ‘earns’. That salary is measured in the millions and it’s thousands of times more than an ‘associate’ earns. And as for the Walton family, they need only show up to meetings of the Board of Directors, if that. And they now own more than half of America. Listen closely and you’ll hear the ghostly rattle of chains.
Leisure class indeed…

I haven’t added the final chapter about ‘reinventing myself’. The journey is still underway.
Meantime, the US Government is ‘shut down’. Not all of it, of course. But about a third of it has stopped, and the people who had a job are furloughed.
Not Congress, of course. They’re ‘essential workers’. They’ve said so.
I’m marveling at the stupidity and chutzpah of a number of members of the Republican Party, not least Mr Boehner.
He hopes you don’t realize that he really IS playing a game. That you won’t recall that the ACA, Obamacare as they call it, is one issue while funding the government is an entirely different issue. There’s no reason, other than Republican stubbornness, to tie the two together.
Fund the government. While the Democrats pass that Continuing Resolution and send it to the President for signature, appoint a committee to work out such things as tax reform. Or whatever.
But don’t hold your breath. The Democrats have demonstrated some 40 times that they won’t accept House bills to cancel the ACA. The House keeps passing them, sending them to the Senate, and they keep being rejected.
Hence the blackmail. Extortion. Really, that’s what it is. Hold the citizens hostage (again!) to try to force the Democrats to accept what they’ve rejected those 40 times. They’re not holding DEMOCRATS hostage; their hostages are the American people, the citizens who are mostly from the underclass and the middle class.
Being solidly middle class, I don’t like being a hostage. I plan to demonstrate that a year from now at the ballot box.
Meantime, this essay is titled The Failures. There are more of those than just the members of the House of Representatives.
You see, those ‘Representatives’ (I’m forced to pay a part of their salary and expenses, even though they certainly make no effort to represent my views or interests) didn’t elect themselves.
Voters did it. You’ve got to wonder why, but then consider that the candidates will be launching the same sort of ads they’ve used before.
They’ll tell you that the other guy is terrible, that he’s a socialist. He’ll ruin the nation. And they’ll do it over and over again, via TV and radio and signs in front yards and bumper stickers.
They won’t tell you what they’ve accomplished, because they’ve accomplished virtually nothing at all.
Education reform? No. Immigration reform? No. How about closing tax loopholes, as Mr Romney suggested? No. Or raising taxes to pay for government rather than borrowing money? No, no; that’s not on the table, said Mr Boehner. Job creators he called them, although they’ve been getting ever more wealthy while the jobs keep vanishing. Mr Boehner, have you noticed this? Mr Boehner?
Guess not.
No new taxes as well as no tax reform to close loopholes. That’s Republican negotiation, Mr Boehner? What do you have to offer? Your party has larded that bill you sent the Senate with a wish list of everything your party has wanted for the last 6 years. Approval of the Keystone Pipeline. New drilling permits. Much, much more. Will you sacrifice those, Mr Boehner? They’re not part of funding the government either, are they? A clean Continuing Resolution is all that’s needed to put the government back to work.
Meantime, the Congress will pay back salaries to all the government employees on furlough. How very nice.
What about the employees of all the government contractors, Mr Boehner? What about their salaries and wages?
Children are being sent home from preschool, Mr Boehner. Will you give them back the weeks or months in their young lives when they CAN’T go to preschool or head start? Can you and your party stop time, Mr Boehner?
Didn’t think so.
So I’m left with my one response, Mr Boehner. I’ll make it simple. No matter how many ads your party pays for, no matter how many bumper stickers, it’s not going to matter.
No Republican. Never again. Early voting starts in just a year, Mr Boehner. I’ll see you at the ballot box.
Meantime, I have one final thing I can do. Democrats will be running against your fellow Republicans. I’ll be picking a few of those Democrats to support financially. Wendy Davis, for example, is running for Governor of Texas. I’m going to be sending her money. I’m not a Texan (not even a Democrat!), but then, her opponent is being bankrolled, as are all the rest of the Republicans, with out-of-state money via lobbyists (Grover Norquist, Karl Rove, et. al.), so I’m just doing the same thing.
If you have the opportunity, ask Mr Boehner the questions I’ve raised. I don’t expect he’ll answer you.
But I have an answer for him. I’ll see him at the ballot box.

I haven’t written the last part of the sequence about reinventing myself. I’ve been far too busy.
Soldier. Teacher. Now, author.
In early May I began writing. May 14th, I posted my first installment of what would become a novel. Tepid response. I kept writing. Found I could write every day. On May 31st I began posting my second novel. I wrote them simultaneously; a chapter of one, a chapter of the other, usually alternating days. No writer’s block, and since I was posting something daily, I began picking up fans. Yeah, really.
Finished that first novel on July 17th. A quick edit and rewrite and I began publishing it on a better, more selective site. Still free, but picking up readers.
Finished the second novel on August 26th. And the poop hit the revolving blades.
I got hate mail. Really. I had told readers that I would end soon, then the exact day I would end, and to expect a cliffhanger. As a part of that, the main character apparently got killed off (no body, of course…cliffhanger). Some hate mails, hundreds of letters in support, clamor to continue with book two of the trilogy. Letters came from Canada and Britain as well as the US. Yep, international audience. I began publishing the third novel today. In four hours, that first chapter had been read more than 1200 times.
Production, in 3 1/2 months, more than 100 000 words. Quality, see the emails.
I can write every day, and usually produce more than 2000 words per chapter, sometimes as many as 3500. I have no idea where this came from, but I’m mostly enjoying it!
Indie publishing soon on Amazon. When that happens, I’ll let you know the final titles of the books.
So that’s why I haven’t been updating the blog!

I haven’t written the final part about reinventing myself, but I thought you might be interested in this short essay I wrote this morning:

I woke up around 5am this morning. My time of day…I’m still eager to see what the day brings. Nature usually doesn’t disappoint.
Cup of coffee, feed the dogs and let them out for a run. Bare hint of light off to the east across the Manzano mountains.
The light grows slowly. Dawn patrol of hummingbirds are at the feeders as soon as it’s light enough to fly. Astonishing metabolism; they need to tank up after sleeping in a tree for eight hours or so. I think this is the real reason they fly south in late fall; they just can’t tolerate going without food during the long hours of night, 35º north of the equator. They’ll migrate south, wait around in South Texas and Louisiana, stock up on fat, and then make the long flight across the Gulf to South America for the winter.
When they leave, the cranes migrate in. They’ll overwinter around here.
The first finches appear around 6:30, but there’s been another visitor before that. A tiny field mouse is hiding somewhere behind the hot tub. Now he’s getting his breakfast, dropped seeds from the finch feeders.
Finches are messy eaters. They pluck a seed from the feeder, try to crack it with their beaks (they love sunflower seeds!), and if they drop it, no problem. Just grab another. But the finches aren’t out yet.
The mouse appears under the privacy fence around the hot tub. Pauses, waits a few seconds for danger, runs over and grabs a seed, races back to cover. He did that a dozen times, waiting a minute or two between his forays.
Some mice carry diseases. I don’t think the ones here are exposed to that. Birds, possibly; bird flu is a problem this time of year in New Mexico. I’ll take the chance.
Almost no breeze. A slight rustle of the leaves on the cottonwood. Early clouds, ghost rain that may not be hitting the ground, but it’s close. Finally it vanishes as the sun appears. But I got a photo; download it and post it on Flickr later.
The morning newspaper is here. I’ll bring it in now. The dogs are asleep, Kevin’s awake. We chat for a few minutes. Patty’s still asleep. She’s a night owl, I’m the early morning guy. But now my time is over. I’ll have to share with others.
It was fun while it lasted, and that’s why I enjoy rising somewhere between 5am and 5:30am. Second cup of coffee now; I’m using the cup that Katri sent me from Finland.
It’s all good.

I have an unusual talent. I have periodically reinvented myself during my lifetime. Let me explain.

I grew up in a small town in segregated Louisiana. School was not challenging, and none of the teachers or counselors took any particular interest in me. I was average, and my family was quite poor. My only extracurricular activity was band, and even there, I could only play an instrument that the school provided.

I was something of what would become known as a nerd later, although I didn’t see myself as such. My fellow students did. I didn’t find this out until my 50th high school graduation reunion. But my grades were not good enough for a college scholarship.

My family were unable to provide any support for further education. And I had no idea of whether I could do college-level work. My school was not known for academic achievement post-high-school.

I had worked for a number of people around that small town. My last job was working for an old man. I did a number of jobs and clearly he liked what I did; I could see a future working for him, unlike the clerk-style jobs I’d had before. I was happy and I began an effort to really learn how to do the jobs I was hired to do. I went to the local library and checked out books on the subject.

And then he died. My job died with him when his estate became tied up in the courts. His children fought over his various businesses and they closed down while the infighting went on. This occurred during my senior year of high school. I was out of school and out of work.
And the draft was waiting. Usually that ‘friends and neighbors’ greeting card arrived in the 20’s. But I saw no reason to wait. I tried the Navy and the Air Force, but I am color-blind, and both rejected me. The Marines weren’t interested either. The Army was not so choosy.

I became a soldier. I did not realize it until later, but when I joined the Army I reinvented myself for the first time.

For the first time in my life, I now associated closely with people of other races. My horizons expanded. After basic combat training, I went to a course I’d signed up for before enlisting. I would work on rockets, because I had been an avid reader of science fiction. After BCT in Arkansas, I was sent to Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas.

El Paso was a city. I had no car, but that didn’t matter. There were buses. Even taxicabs, but they were expensive when your income is a private soldier’s pay. My first paycheck was $77.10. The Army took $20 of that for haircut and required supplies.

Change? I resisted for a time. The desert was strange and lifeless after growing up in Louisiana. The people were dark-skinned, and they freely crossed the bridges back and forth from Texas to Mexico. They often spoke Spanish, and some on the streets and in the shops barely spoke English if at all. But I adapted.

Within a few months, my best friend was a Black man. I learned something of his problem, trying not to be different within a society that wouldn’t admit you. Not all of it, of course. But when we went out to have a few beers in Juarez, we learned to be very careful which bars we went into. Some wouldn’t accept him, some wouldn’t accept me, even though we were together. Friends and drinking buddies that we were, patrons of some of the bars simply didn’t want one or the other of us around.

I was aware of the life I left behind, but it no longer meant much. The things I’d been told were obviously false. I left the old life and barely looked back. Just as a snake sheds its skin, I shed my past.

We finished school, and now I had a basic education in things I’d barely been aware of before. Pneumatics. Electronics. Hydraulics. Mechanics. Basic nuclear weapons design. And logic; how to diagnose what was wrong with a missile by looking at symptoms. If this, then that. And not just missiles, but launchers, complicated test sets, high-pressure air compressors, generators that produced 45 kw of 3-phase electrical power. This, to someone who had grown up and never had electricity beyond that provided by batteries in a flashlight until I was a teenager. It was a long way from that huge diesel-powered generator back to the kerosene lamps I’d depended on when I was learning to love reading.

I became a soldier. Except for a short break for two years, living and working in El Paso and then California as a civilian, I remained a soldier for the next 20+ years.

I lived in Chicago for a couple of years and married before transferring. I found that Chicago, despite what I’d believed, was as racist as anyplace I’d been. California was a model of tolerance compared to Chicago. My future wife and I shared a distaste for that; we went on one block-busting expedition together to try to find housing for a young Black woman, a friend of my wife, in a ‘neighborhood’. Chicago is famous for them; they’re ethnically isolated. And racist.

I emphasize the racism because that’s the greatest illustration I can think about to show how I had changed. My life didn’t revolve around race relations, far from it. But when the situation intruded, that was my mindset now and so I acted not as I’d been taught but as I had learned.

That willingness to totally change outlook based on what I learned, and then move on in a new direction, is what I call reinventing myself.

More tomorrow; the Internationalist.