Texas. And Texans.

I’m not one of them. But I am a fan. Even though I realize the downsides. Sometimes they’re loud to the point of obnoxiousness. A literally disgusting percentage of them are morbidly overweight. Not a single fucking one of them knows how to drive. And they’re never even a little bit shy about being Texans. Once upon a time in a bar in Dallas, some big corn-fed boy was standing on a table, talking about how great Texas was, how it was the only place to be, and how he was never EVER going to live anywhere else. I could tell he felt strongly about it. I asked him where else he had lived in his life. He ain’t never lived anywhere else, because Texas was great, it was the only place to be, and he was never EVER going to live anywhere else. I managed to avoid saying anything that would spark a bar-fight. But it was close.

Still, Texas really is a great place. Southern hospitality is a very real phenomenon, and Texas has it. People are more than just considerate; they are all the way POLITE. And they seem to actually mean it. Texas is one of very few places in the world where a woman traveling alone, car broken down on the side of the road, can accept a ride from a stranger, and not only be perfectly safe, but also have the Good Samaritan drive 20 minutes out of their way because they know a better auto-repair place than the nearest one, and can get them to cut her a deal on fixing that alternator. And not only that, but they would actually get her a better deal, instead of just collecting a kickback for bringing in the business.

Texas is also a place were personal initiative and hard work are held in extremely high regard. Small businesses abound. Pretty much everyone, besides having a regular day job, also has some personal hobby or interest that they could (or do) perform professionally If Things Were Different. (Auto repair, operating machinery, welding, radiological imaging, and that’s just my brother SW’s list while he lived there working full time as a chiropractor.) People are active. They are sometimes conservative and close minded, or racists, or anarchists, or whatever, but they are just people, after all. And generally speaking, I honestly think Texans are a good people. Maybe better than Americans, when compared across the board. Especially if you limit the comparison to people who are proud to be Texans. People who are proud of their culture and their State show it, by supporting their culture and their State, rather than being supported by it. Proud people don’t end up on welfare.

In any rate, the Governor of Texas recently made headlines by not immediately shooting down the idea that Texas might secede from the United States. They can, actually. In fact, they’ve already done it once, circa 1861. Texas thinks of itself as another country, because it was, in fact, another country. After it won its independence in 1836, but before it became a State of the Union in 1845, Texas was a republic. And it was a real, legitimate, functioning republic, unlike, for example, California, which had a puppet government set up following winning it’s ‘independence.’ But that was just a contrivance so the history books would not overtly state that the United States conquered California from Mexico. Texas had its very own functioning government that the citizens considered THEIR government, and it was only through political process and negotiation between nation-states that agreement was reached for Texas to become a State. Realistically speaking, there are only 14 states that have ever functioned as independent political entities: the original 13 colonies that declared independence from England, and Texas, which won its independence from Mexico.

When Texas joined the Union, its own Constitution was amended to include provisions for Texas to leave the Union. Texas’ Constitution has terms to secede, and those terms have been there for as long as Texas was a state. Joining the Union wasn’t a marriage for all time. It was a mere political alliance, subject to cancellation, should that become necessary. Texas children have it drilled into them, to one degree or another, that they are Texans, and every Texas high school kid knows that Texas is the only state that can withdraw from the Union. Texans implicitly know that their United States citizenship is potentially transitory. They consider themselves Texans first and foremost, although they are Americans as well. Fortunately, Texan interests and American interests almost always coincide.

But that might not always be the case, something that a great many Texans are beginning to consider. Texans pay billions in taxes to the American Federal government. They do receive a massive amount of work from the government and government-subsidized industries. Bell-Textron, which rakes in billions from military and other contracts, is there. The only American battle-tank plant outside of Michigan is in Texas. Rockwell International, primary contractor for space shuttle construction, is in Dallas. But really. How much does Texas need America? And what is that alliance going to cost? Texas is a state with lots of entrepreneurs and small businesses. Its gross state production is second only to California (and it’s a distant second), but unlike CA, it’s not shackled by energy and water concerns. Lots of go getters in Texas, and THEY VOTE. But the important part is that there are lots of people in the tax bracket that Barack is hitting up to pay for AFDC in places like Chicago, and to pay unemployment benefits to people in Detroit. How many Texas small businesses are going to get taxed under so welfare mothers in south Philly can afford their King Cobra? Or so Wall Street executives can have new vacation homes in the Hamptons on Federal bail-out money? Whether or not that’s the reality, that is the perception. Texans are not happy about the idea of dragging all of America along in the wake of their industry, and there is some truth in that idea that they are doing so. Being Texans, they’ll do it, do it with hard work, and take a lot of pride in having done it. They’ll never let anyone forget it either. But if it doesn’t work out, they won’t hesitate to cut the tow-cable when it becomes apparent that they’re about to be pulled down by the wreck they’re trying to salvage. Don’t kid yourself about unbreakable ties binding us together.

Which leads to all sorts of possible political problems. Legally, Texas does in fact have the power to leave the Union. Texas’ acknowledgment of United States authority and the United States’ Constitution is subject to a vote-of-no-confidence by its citizenry. Frankly speaking, the United States really does need Texas quite a bit more than Texas needs the United States. While not quite to the point of Colorado in Atlas Shrugged, I honestly think that Texas is the bright future of our economy. If you’re an investor, you’d be a hell of a lot better off looking for opportunities in Houston than looking for opportunities on Wall Street. If for not other reason than oil, the United States could simply not afford to let Texas get away. And what happens then? What usually happens when Nations try to compel responses from another nation?

As a brief historical interlude, tangentially on point: The Civil War was not actually about slavery. Slavery was simply the central practical issue of a political problem, which focused on the extent of the Federal government’s power. The Federalist North did not approve of the practice of slavery, and wanted it outlawed. But what brought the issue to war was not whether or not the Federal government wanted to outlaw slavery throughout the United States, but whether or not the Federal government could outlaw slavery throughout the United States. Specifically, could the Federal Government tell the States how the States were going to operate within their own borders. Did the power of the Federal Government supercede the power of the States? We (meaning most of us outside Texas) take for granted that we are Americans citizens first, and simply residents of whatever state we live in. We are okay with the idea that the States are largely just regional managers organizing local people, under the aegis of the United States. But that wasn’t always the prevailing view. When conflict was heating up between the Union and the Confederacy, General Robert E. Lee faced a dilemma: both nations asked him to command their forces. Lee ended up in command of the Army of Northern Virginia because he considered himself to be a Virginian first and an American second. A great many Texans still hold that mindset today.

Fast forward a hundred and fifty years. Can the Federal government exercise control over Texas, if Texas decides it no longer wants to be under Federal control? Should Texas decide to leave, and should the United States realize it cannot let Texas go, what happens? Will Texas be forced into war with the United States? How would that go? It would not be pretty. On one hand, the American military has power beyond anything this world has ever seen. But it is already fighting two wars at the moment. And there are a lot of Texans in the military who would have to decide where their loyalties lie. Robert E. Lee is not a bad precedent to follow in terms of honorable resolution of strong loyalties. And if it leads to open conflict? Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, around 1942, opined that it would be impossible to invade the continental United States, because there would be a gun behind every blade of grass. With 60 years having passed since then, his thoughts are probably no longer true with regard to the United States as a whole. We’ve become not necessarily soft, but certainly not as ambitiously hard as we once were. In much of the country, a firearm is a quirky, eccentric thing to own, rather than something that people just automatically accept is going to be in the house. But that’s not the case in Texas. Even today, it would be impossible for anyone to invade Texas, because there would, in fact, be a gun behind every blade of grass. Firearms and their use are still very much a part of people’s lifestyles. Not all that long ago, a Texan rancher woke in the middle of the night to someone stealing his pickup. He got his Remington 700 rifle and shot the guy behind the wheel of the truck as they were trying to escape down his quarter-mile driveway. A Texas jury acquitted the rancher of the murder charge. They approve of that sort of conduct in that part of the world. With that prevailing mindset, a war between Texas and the United States would be exceptionally brutal, to the point that it could destroy both republics.

It’s not happening. But the potential is there. The legal right to leave is there. And more and more Texans are going to start seriously wondering why their small businesses are closing down under tax burdens, so Wall Street can continue business as usual. New York is a long way from Dallas, after all.

I genuinely hope that Barack gets on top of the economic situation quickly, and that he doesn’t try to jam through any legislation that would sour that segment of the population (like a comprehensive firearms ban, for example). I’m really not worried about the United States’ potential for economic recovery. As it was in the 1920s, the problem is that so much of our economy has been functioning on credit that, without the (now defunct) credit market to sustain it, nothing is worth the amount that was paid for it. Your house is not worth what you paid for it. Nor is your car. Not because they are worth less, but just because the failure of the credit system means that prices no longer enjoy the extra cost padding that credit enabled us to pay. It’s really not that complicated. The collapse of the credit system has meant that more must be done on a cash-and-carry basis, which isn’t working because there isn’t enough actual cash in the system. There never had to be; everything was done on credit! But prices will settle down, the credit system will recover, and equilibrium will be reached. We will recover from this, given time. If nothing else, America still has the most productive agricultural system in the world. Barring an energy market collapse (which controls transportation costs) the American people are not going to starve. Which means that people will (hopefully) not become so panicked about survival that they start acting rash. They will keep working. So long as the populace remains fed, they are not going to revolt; they are going to find jobs, and work. So long as people can eat, they will rebuild, and almost always build something better than what was lost. Economic downtimes are unfortunate, especially for people used to lazy, comfortable lifestyles. But economic downtimes do not by themselves lead to the fall of nations.

But if some economic recovery is not seen soon, and if taxes keep rising without results being seen, more and more Texans are going to start wondering if being an American is really all that great a thing, and might Texas once again be better off by her lonesome. If the status quo degrades enough (or even persists long enough), Texas will secede. Which would be a catastrophe far beyond anything we might do to ourselves economically. American can recover from economic difficulty. That is not the sort of end that will bring down a Nation so powerful. But a civil war based on an internal division, and sparked by contention in a critical market (Texas oil) is EXACTLY the sort of end that would bring down a Nation so powerful.

The economy is what it is, and while there are a lot of things that might happen to make things worse, there are also a lot of things that might happen to make things better. As citizens, all we can really do is live our lives, live each day as best we can, and enjoy the time that we are given. In all probability, not a whole lot is going to change, except what changes we make for ourselves. Life is like that.

But if you ever start to hear serious rumblings of Texas secession, then you might want to consider where you’re going to want to be in event of a breakup and collapse of the United States as a whole. (Personally, I like the looks of Costa Rica.) In the meantime, think about this: if Texas seceded from the Union, even at this point, would you really think less of them? And if Texas seceded from the Union, which side of the border would you want to be on? I, for one, am not worried about the future of Texas. The rest of the nation… Well. We’ll see.

The Time Of Our Lives

Do you remember how, as a child, time seemed to pass so slowly? The ten minutes before the start of your favorite cartoon was more that enough time for a game with your siblings (but, strangely, that last hour before bed couldn’t possibly have lasted more than twenty minutes). A day’s class was an eternal, indescribable torture, and every one of them was different. Different lessons each day, some of them even interesting. Different classes each year, some better than others. The only thing longer than summer vacation was the school year that it took to get there.

It’s only as adults that days speed ever faster into the next. How an entire month can go by in a blink. Or an entire year. What happens to us that the days that used to last forever are replaced by years that never made a difference?

At least part of it is biological. It is indisputable truth that child minds work differently that adult minds, and that children learn faster and more easily than adults. Young brains are biologically more dynamic and flexible that older brains. Children are capable of recovering from brain injuries and aphasias that would be catastrophic to adults. Young brains simply form and reform neural connections faster and more dynamically than adult brains. And since learning is all about the formation of neural connections, young brains learn much faster and more dynamically than adult minds. Since what this means is that children’s minds effectively absorb and process details and events MUCH more deeply than adult minds, it’s natural that the brain experience related temporal anomalies. Take a brain that is absolutely primed to learn and expose it to a crowed city street for ten minutes. Take a brain that is a little more analytical, and little more structured in its tendencies, and put it on the same street for the same amount of time. Hell, even for the SAME period. The brain that is primed to receive input is going to notice and remember MUCH more of the little details. Every minute, if not every second, will be defined by something happening; each moment will be distinct and differentiable from the last.

The older brain, by comparison, is much more able to interpret and understand the goings-on on the street (by dint of the very structure and analysis that get in the way of pure observation), but simply does not absorb as many of the little details. The ten minutes fly by, and unless there’s something “notable” happening, the brain is not going to seize onto a great many things to give definition to each minute, or even (barring a car accident or drive-by) give much definition to the ten minute period as a whole.

So why does it seem odd that a young brain would count that 10 minute period as a definable, memorable period, whose passage was notable (either as very exciting or as excruciatingly boring), whereas an older brain would hardly notice the passage of that time at all? When your kids start complaining about how long it has been since you’ve done something, or about how long something has lasted, they’re not really exaggerating. For them, it really has been a long time.

Hell, look at ADD or (taken to the extreme) autism. Children whose brains are so fluid and dynamic in the neural connections that form and fire that the brain has problems focusing on anything in particular? A brain that is so busy noticing and calculating and absorbing information that it can’t bring itself to really do anything with that information. Is this not a predictable evolutionary hiccup? Children’s brains are expected to absorb not only all the skills and knowledge that their parents learned, but also all the skills and knowledge that have developed over their parents’ lifetimes. Culturally, genetically, and epigenetically, evolution is going to find a way to accommodate that requirement, and I suspect that such evolution will spring from traits that we today consider hindrances or handicaps in those that experience them.

What will be the evolutionary step once the quirks that are ADD and autism mature into some functional mutation? Imagine a brain that with that breadth of observation, that speed of calculation, that perception of each moment as separate and defined. But where without sacrificing all that, the brain is capable of effectively focusing on and making effective practical use of any of those observations, affairs, and perceptions. Imagine a brain that is capable of effectively focusing on and making use of ALL of those observations, affairs, and perceptions. What might such a mind accomplish? What sort of renaissance might such a next-step renaissance man spark? Imagine Leonardo DaVinci, except instead of considering and coming up with novel applications in art and anatomy, is theorizing on quantum physics or psychology? Those sorts of genetic/epigenetic quantum leaps in intelligence or cognitive ability are historically documented. Humanity has taken sudden leaps forward where a specific individual is born with a genetically superior brain function, to the point where they are demonstrably more capable than those without the genetic tag. Evolution has in the past and will again lead to sudden, drastic leaps in human cognitive ability. How vast indeed is our children’s potential.

But turning back to the issue of perception of time, there’s more to that change of perception than just maturation of neural pathways as we age. There’s also the lives that we lead. As a child, there are milestones. Every weekend has something happening: little league, swim lessons, whatever. Every day of school has different lessons. Every year has different classes and different teachers. People are telling you what you’ll be learning next year, and as odd and unreal as it seems, sure enough, you go on and learn it. When you’re in school, you’re climbing the ladder, and each step is important. K though 12. College. Maybe grad school. Discernable steps along a marked path (with frequent mile-markers) towards a defined goal.

But then, at one point or another, we leave that path. We leave or lose the clearly marked trail, as we reach, abandon, or are barred from the defined goal. Mile markers stop rolling by. Rather than moving on to the next grade, we get jobs. Those jobs become our lives. Maybe we get married, maybe we don’t, but we settle into some sort of status quo. One day bleeds into the next, into the next week, the next month, the next year. We settle in and become boring, knowing we’re not happy, but not really unhappy, and it really is too convenient and comfortable to make a lot of trouble about it. We’ve got intoxicants to get us through. And counselors, to try to explain the reasons we’re stagnant and unhappy in living stagnant unhappy lives. Mostly, they try to convince us it’s because we just don’t appreciate the things we have, and we should suck it up and try to be more gracious. Before we know it, we’ve been at a job we hate for five years, haven’t been on vacation for three years, and aren’t even managing to have much in the way of quality sex. How stagnant can life get, where not even orgasms get a rise out of us?

What does it take to break free from the status quo that sets around us like concrete? Often times, it takes – or will be precipitated by – a sudden infusion of life. A little break from the ordinary, maybe where you go on vacation, or have a rare good time with old friends. Share some stories and jokes and laughs, the way you did when you were young. To get past endless gray monotony, you need defining events (not necessarily spectacular events; just a series of events, each of which was memorable), and many of them. You need to spend some time where the time seems to pass slowly, because every moment is wonderful. Until you get shaken out of the rut of the status quo, you have nothing else to compare the status quo to. No reason to wonder just how much greater things Might Be. Certainly no reason to consider going after those things.

I got to thinking about all this for a few reasons. First of all, because I’ve lost at least three years to my current status quo. Not a whole lot happening, personally or professionally. A lot of good times, and a few halcyon moments, but for the most part just a status quo. It’s not really satisfying. It’s not what I want. But it has been really, REALLY comfortable. To he point where I have not a serious care in the world, and where my every aspiration for toys and tangible things either has been satisfied, or could be satisfied should I decide to indulge. It’s been really easy. I never even really noticed the passage of time until a friend asked me if I was happy about my life. I asked her to define the standard I should use. She asked me: if the next five years where just like the last five years, would you be okay with that? My immediate and overwhelming response: FUCK NO. While this status quo has been very comfortable, it has not been very satisfying. It turns out that material bounty (which I have in spades) is a poor substitute for intangible happiness.

Secondly, I’ve been thinking a lot about it because people have been coming to me with relationship issues. I’m currently rendering at least part time marriage or relationship advice to four people. I love all of them, and I’m glad to help all of them, but I can’t help laughing at the irony of married people (some married more than once) coming to a 32-year old bachelor for consultation. I suspect its because they want or need some rational insight, which I’m sometimes able to provide. Also, the lack of drama in my life means that they can count on me to actually listen to them, rather than just waiting for my turn to talk about my own woes.

In any rate, the trend that I’ve noticed in all my friends who are having relationship breakages is that the biggest problem seems to be the settling into an unsatisfying status quo. Either they have become people they don’t like, they are living a life they don’t like, or both. The practical manifestation of that status quo (whether based on legitimate gripe or on unreasonable expectation) is unacceptable to one member of the relationship. Whether it’s women who have gotten married only to find themselves living alone in strange places with absentee husbands, or husbands who are tired of their wives’ efforts to change them into someone neither of them will like. Or even just simple cases where The Spark has died in the relationship. They have spent some period immersed in a status quo that, for one reason or another, is untenable any longer. Too much time already lost, and they’re not willing to have the days to come pass the same as the ones gone by. They had some wonderful moments, know good times are out there, and the relationship is not going to come though with them. They want to be happy. And, strangely, are almost always apologetic about it. Go figure.

For my part (and despite overwhelming desire to spend more time saying what I think and feel about things), I try to keep rational when talking to people about their lives. I certainly am not qualified to opine about the interaction of married people, but I can out-rational pretty much anyone I know. And it’s both easy and true to point out that each person in each of these relationships is responsible for their own happiness. This is the only life they have. Whether their reasons and reasoning in making the change are sound or not, if they are trying to build a happier life outside the relationship than the one they had in the relationship, how can you possibly say they have done anything wrong? In all of it, the only thing that really upsets me is seeing my friends in more pain than they need to be in. Not because of the dissolution of the relationships, but because of all the grief that goes hand in hand with the dissolution.

Back to the issue of temporal perceptions, each of my friends, in separate directions, has been freed from the status quo, and is caught in the chaos that is the alternative. Time is passing slowly for them, but for the wrong reasons: Every day is difficult and painful as a result of their situation. They wonder if they’ve done everything they could have or should have in their relationships. They wonder if they’re fucking up their lives with the decisions they’re making, and wonder if they’re being unreasonable. They wonder if they should go back to the way things were, and wonder if they if could go back if they wanted to. They wonder how much they are going to regret what they’re doing. They hope that the good times they know will come again get here soon, because each day in the meantime is gonna be an eternity. Mix in the usual travails of professional, scholastic, and/or social interaction, and every day is distinctly NOT routine. Time is passing slowly.

We have all had wonderful days that seemed to last forever. But most of the time, the days that seem to last forever are the ones where everything that can go wrong, does. Where tragedy strikes. Where we are in pain. A minute of torture feels infinitely longer than a solid hour of gentle massage.

Take by contrast, the day-to-day routine. The comfort of the humdrum. While a solid, steady status quo is not always enjoyable, and is not notable or memorable, it is almost never painful. You know what you get, because it’s what you have. And while what you have might not be a whole lot, at least you DO have it. We settle into status quos, and allow our lives to fly by uneventfully, because doing so spares the risk of loss and pain. We feed our lives to mediocrity, because doing that is easier than any of the alternatives. And unless something happens that snaps us out of it, we don’t even realize just how long it’s been since anything has happened to define the passage of time.

But then something happens that makes you notice how staid the status quo is, and you decide to make changes in hopes of something brighter. Or else some defining event occurs, which suddenly creates a new status quo, itself unacceptable. Either way, a change becomes necessary. Which further muddles the status quo, as you and those around you must work out an inherently discordant process: reaching a status quo that at least one of you is not going to like as well as they liked the last. But that’s life. And it’s ours. If we do not live it, no one else shall.

The status quo must change sometimes; if it doesn’t, our lives pass by in uneventful mediocrity, even if (or perhaps, because) the process is painless and easy. So remember: it’s only the status quo. The only reason it exists is because it does, not because it must. You can change it, and don’t need to apologize for it. There is nothing to be ashamed of in wanting to live your life well. No need to apologize for wanting the fun times, the vacations, the attention, The Spark. No transgression in wanting your days to pass slowly, with each moment as spectacular as it can be.

Reaching the next mile marker means leaving the last maker behind, and just because you can’t see the next marker doesn’t mean it’s not there waiting for you. You just gotta decide to move forward, and pay whatever toll is imposed along the way. Ideally, the best things in your life will move forward with you. But sometimes, moving ahead means leaving things behind. That’s just life. It’s not that some things are not meant to be. It’s just that almost nothing is meant to be forever.