A Trip to New Zealand as the Fight Against the Coronavirus Was Ramping Up

This blog has been badly neglected for a couple of years now, but since I did managed to make a single post last year, I didn't want to let this year go by without posting at least one entry. Of course there are a wealth of topics I could go on and on about, whether it's the US finally voting out the worst president in its history (and him promptly making an even further disgrace of himself by refusing to accept the results), numerous events around the world, developments in space exploration, the more than three dozen books I've read since I last wrote on that topic, and more, I decided to make it easy on myself and post something that I'd already written more than half of: an account of a trip we took to New Zealand in March and how the growing coronavirus pandemic affected it. While we, like the vast majority of people around the world, won't be able to make any foreign trips for at least a few more months yet (at least here in Taiwan domestic travel is no problem), our last one was memorable enough to last us for some time yet.

A Trip to New Zealand as the Fight Against the Coronavirus Was Ramping Up

In March, we went on a previously planned vacation to New Zealand. Though the coronavirus situation globally worldwide was worsening, it didn’t even occur to us to cancel our trip. My wife had bought the tickets (non-refundable, of course) the previous December as a family treat, and for us it was a big expense, the type we can only afford every couple of years. Once the epidemic hit, our main worry was that travel restrictions would prevent us from going. We weren’t particularly worried about the virus itself. Taiwan had only about 50 cases (out of a population of 23 million), despite well over a month and a half having passed since the first case was reported in late January, and there were only a handful of confirmed cases in New Zealand at the time we departed (I think it was eight on the day we departed). Without any community spread to speak of in either country and a direct flight between them, the chances of encountering anyone with the virus seemed extremely low, though we would have to take a little extra care in the airports, since that was the one place we were likely to encounter travelers from places where the virus was more widespread.

As it happened, the airports weren’t a big issue either, since a lot of flights had already been cancelled, and with a lot fewer people around, social distancing wasn’t too difficult, except on the flight itself (which of course mainly held people from Taiwan, who were very unlikely to have the virus). But we had to leave a day later than planned, because our original flight had been cancelled, though the airline put us on the next day’s flight without charge. Then on the way to the airport, we read that New Zealand had just announced that incoming travelers from all but a handful of countries would be required to self-isolate for 14 days on arrival. However, the policy would only go into force at midnight on the night after our arrival, meaning it didn’t apply to us. When we got to Auckland, everything seemed to be business as usual. Everything was open, people were out and about, and we only saw a single person (possibly a tourist) wearing a mask. It looked like our vacation could proceed as planned.

We set off to some of the major tourist spots, and for most of the trip, things were fairly normal. The coronavirus did come up a lot in conversation. On a day tour from Rotorua to the Waitomo Caves and the Hobbiton movie set, our driver and a young British couple and I started discussing the situation. The British couple had been in the country for some time, but they now weren’t sure when they’d be leaving, as the next stage on their journey through that part of the world was Indonesia, which their government was advising against visiting. The driver said their company had no bookings for the coming weeks, and she feared she was going to be laid off. Another driver who we hired to take us from Turangi (where the long-distance bus stopped) into the Tongariro National Park a day or two later also said there were a lot of cancellations, though the national park itself seemed to have a fair number of visitors. While we were in the national park, we saw on the local news that Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern had announced that non-residents would be banned from entering the country beginning from midnight that night, though people on planes that were already in the air would be allowed in even if they landed after midnight. We also learned that Taiwan was now requiring most incoming travelers to self-quarantine for 14 days after arrival, a restriction that would apply to us. In both countries, there’d been a fairly sharp uptick in cases, though they nearly all involved incoming travelers, not community spread.

The next day we arrived in Wellington. Life still seemed to be going on mostly as normal, though two women sitting behind me on the bus were discussing the coronavirus situation. We stayed in a hotel that dated back to the 19th century (Queen Elizabeth apparently stayed there in the 1960s). The woman at the hotel reception counter was initially hesitant about letting us check in, since she thought we were supposed to be self isolating (they had a sign saying that anyone arriving after the 15th was supposed to self-isolate; on seeing our March 15 entry stamps, she apparently forgot about the “after”), but she relented, though she asked us to avoid the common room. The next day we found that all the museums were closed indefinitely, though when we walked to the waterfront and hiked up to the Mt. Victoria lookout there were plenty of people in both places. On our second full day, we started to see a few more people with masks (though still a small minority), and when we ate in at a restaurant in the evening we had to write down our contact information. I also noticed a few people making an extra effort not to touch things, for example using their elbow to press the pedestrian crossing button at intersections (something I started doing myself). It was clear things were getting a bit more tense. 

The next day (March 23) we flew from Wellington back to Auckland. We had only booked the tickets right after arriving in Wellington, and the plane wasn’t full. As it turned out, this was our second lucky break as far as timing went, after just gotten in ahead of the self-isolation requirement. On arrival at the Auckland airport’s domestic terminal, we got a round trip ticket on the airport bus, figuring that we’d be coming back in just a few days (as it turned out, we should have just gotten a one-way ticket into the city). As the bus passed the international terminal, we saw that it was packed with people; apparently foreign travelers were already trying to get out while they could (we later heard that the airport ended up limiting entry to people who had tickets for flights leaving in the next five hours).

The streets of Auckland were already noticeably different from the way they had been just a week earlier. Quite a few people were wearing masks, though still a minority, and some places were closed. My wife had booked a short-stay apartment, which was quite nice while still being only a little more expensive than the backpacker hostel we’d stayed at previously. Most importantly, it had a fully equipped kitchen, which turned out quite handy. But for lunch we went to a nearby Nando’s (a South Africa-based chain restaurant). This turned out to be our last meal in a restaurant for the trip. My main goal for the last two days was to shop for local music (I’d already bought some in Wellington) and check out the secondhand bookstores. The record store we visited first was open (and had a lot of good stuff), though the bookstore up the road a ways from it turned out to be closed.

It was probably only upon returning to our apartment that we heard the news. Covid-19 cases had continued to creep up over the past few days, and they had just passed 100. In addition, two of the cases were suspected to involve community spread. This prompted the prime minister to announce that the country was immediately entering level 3 on their newly instituted alert system, and would be entering level 4 — a complete lockdown — at 11:59 on March 25. Realizing that we could expect even more restaurants to be closing down, we decided to go buy several meals worth of food at a supermarket. We had seen stories about panic buying at supermarkets, so we weren’t too surprised to see that they were only letting people into the store in batches, and that there were signs stating that for most items you could only buy two. But while there were certainly some bare shelves, there was also a fair amount of food available, and we were able to get some frozen pasta, bread, fruit, and other items. But rather than immediately eating our new supplies, for dinner I went out for takeout pizza, though notably some restaurants were already completely shut down.

The next day, we went back to the record store we’d visited and had take out from a nearby Subway, chatting briefly with the ethnic Indian couple who ran it about the virus situation. In the afternoon, we decided to have a last bit of touristy adventure. We went down to the port and caught a ferry across to Devonport, a pleasant little suburb of Auckland. There was a used bookstore there that was still open, and we browsed there for awhile (I bought a few books, including a couple I’d been searching for) and took a walk along the waterside before catching a ferry back to central Auckland. We had noticed that while most of the fast food places and some other restaurants were still open, everything was now takeout only. The streets were also even less crowded then they had been a day earlier, though they weren’t quite deserted. We were able to do a little bit of shopping at the stores that were still open; I bought a few new CDs at an electronics store.

We spent March 25, our last full day in Auckland, walking about the central city. There were still people on the streets, but almost all the stores and restaurants were closed, including all the fast food places. I did stop in one of the few restaurants that was still open for take out for a milkshake, but we ate our meals at our apartment, using up the food we’d gotten at the supermarket previously. We spent some time in a park not far away from the apartment and we checked out the local buildings; I was impressed to note that there were quite a few old buildings in everyday use, such as one with 1909 carved on the lintel that had a pharmacy on the first (or as they would say ground) floor. But while it was a pleasant day and there were still people around, the whole atmosphere was strange and slightly tense due to all the closed shops and knowledge of the impending lockdown.

Through these last few days, we had of course been keeping an eye on our flight, but fortunately it was one of the few that hadn’t been canceled. And to say that it was fortunate is an understatement, as after March 31, there would be no flights to Taiwan (or many other places) at all. But there was still the matter of getting to the airport in order to catch the flight. As I mentioned earlier, we’d bought round-trip tickets on the airport bus when we’d arrived on the flight from Wellington, but when we first heard that the lockdown would be starting at midnight the night before (our flight was on the morning of March 26), I became worried about whether the buses would be running. On the 24^th, we’d stopped by the airport bus ticket office in central Auckland to check, and it turned out I’d been right to worry; the airport bus wouldn’t be operating during the lockdown. So how where we to get to the airport? The fact that our flight was leaving as scheduled wouldn’t do us any good if we couldn’t catch it.

Luckily, we found out that there was also a shuttle service to the airport, and that was still going to be running. So early on the 26^th, we waited for the shuttle bus (a van, actually) outside the apartment building. It came on time, and we rode with a few other travelers out to the airport through quiet streets. Admittedly, since it was only just getting light (I forget the exact time, but it was probably before 7), it was kind of hard to tell how different things were under lockdown. The difference was more obvious once we got to the airport itself.

At the airport, things were still pretty subdued, except at the few operating check-in counters. These were a small hive of activity in an otherwise empty departure hall. A guy from one young family was desperately arguing with the airline staff, but I didn’t hear enough to be able to tell what their situation was. The rest of us got checked in smoothly enough, and after getting through the passport and security checks we had an hour or more before boarding time in what was an almost empty airport. Every shop and restaurant was closed, and the departure board was filled with canceled flights. There was a flight to Tokyo leaving some time before ours, but that was the only other flight anywhere near our departure time that was still going. So the only people we saw hanging around in the empty airport besides those who would be on our flight were some from that one. One consolation was that at least until we got to the gate, social distancing wasn’t a problem.

After hanging around in a mostly empty airport for an hour, the boarding gate was a study in contrasts, even if many of the people we saw in both places were the same. At the gate, everyone was crowded together, but not only was practically everyone wearing masks, some were wearing two, and a few people were wearing things that looked almost like hazmat suits. Frankly, I thought this was overdoing it a bit, as even at this point New Zealand had only around 200 cases, and the odds that any of us actually had the virus were pretty small. Still, I probably shouldn’t fault people for erring on the side of caution – though many of them undercut their own efforts to a degree when the plane finally landed at Taoyuan International Airport in Taiwan, as they crammed together in the aisle waiting to get off, without any effort at social distancing.

Now we were safely back in Taiwan, but our adventure wasn’t entirely over yet. Like all other arrivals in Taiwan, including everyone else on our flight (well, except for three people who were stuck at the airport for a day, since they had intended to transfer on to other destinations, something Taiwan was no longer allowing; eventually they were allowed to do it anyway, though the airline was fined for letting them on in the first place), we now had to go into quarantine for 14 days. Fortunately, we could to this at home. We got into our designated taxi after being sprayed with disinfectant and were taken straight to our building. Once back in our apartment, we had to remain there for the next two weeks, and family and friends who brought us food had to leave it outside our door for us to take in after they’d left.

The quarantine caused a few complications – I had to record a couple of my radio shows on my computer and I had to reschedule a class I’d been supposed to teach on the very last day of the quarantine – but for the most part it wasn’t too bad. Of course back in New Zealand, people had to endure a much longer period of being stuck at home, though they were not completely banned from going outside, as long as they stayed away from others. The long lockdown proved worthwhile, of course, as New Zealand eventually managed to bring the virus under control and eliminate local transmission. As for Taiwan, despite a relative surge in cases during the time we’d been in New Zealand and then in quarantine, with measures like the quarantine we and other arrivals from abroad went through, it remained relatively free of the virus without having to enter any kind of lockdown. Even at the time I’m finishing this off at the end of the year, Taiwan has only had about 800 cases total, with seven deaths, even fewer than New Zealand, despite a much larger population. The only certain case of local transmission in Taiwan since April occurred in late December. So as it happens, what was true at the time we went to New Zealand is even more true now: Taiwan and New Zealand are probably the best places in the world to be as far as the pandemic is concerned.

Nevertheless, as great as New Zealand was and still is, we were very fortunate in that we happened to get out just as the lockdown started. Who knows what we would have done if we’d actually been stuck there with no way of getting back home? But all’s well that ends well, and we look forward to visiting New Zealand again someday – but we hope next time it won’t be in the midst of a global pandemic.  

 

Reflections on the 50th Anniversary of the First Moon Landings

It's been quite some time since I've written anything here; while I've felt the inspiration to write something on a few occasions, I've always ended up distracted by something else. But the 50th anniversary of the first Moon landing really is too good an opportunity to pass up. A few years ago I posted something on the last Moon landing, which took place in December 1972; since I am writing this without referring to that piece, I may repeat myself on a few points, but then they are likely to be worth repeating.

Apollo 11 lifted off on July 16, 1969 and entered lunar orbit on July 19. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin went down to the surface in the lunar module on July 20, leaving Michael Collins in the command module, and Armstrong and then Aldrin stepped out onto the surface a few hours after landing (the time was late in the evening on July 20 in the US, but in most of the world it was July 21). After a few hours on the surface, Armstrong and Aldrin returned to the LM and then ascended from the surface to rendezvous with Collins for the return to Earth, which they reached on July 24, fifty years ago today. This was indeed a momentous journey, arguably the greatest single achievement by humans in the few hundred thousand years we've been in existence. But despite the attention that Apollo 11 as a mission and Aldrin and especially Armstrong as individuals receive, it's worth remembering that this was not the only mission to the Moon, and Armstrong and Aldrin were not the only people to walk on its surface.

Though Armstrong and Aldrin were the first to walk on the Moon, they and Collins were not the first humans to travel there. The first flight to the Moon took place in December 1968 during the Apollo 8 mission, with Frank Borman, Jim Lovell and Bill Anders becoming the first people to orbit the Moon. The Apollo 9 mission stayed in Earth orbit, as had the Apollo 7 mission (both were still important tests of the hardware needed for the later missions), but Apollo 10 was a full dress rehearsal for the first Moon landing, in which Tom Stafford, Gene Cernan, and John Young flew to the Moon and did everything short of actually landing, including taking the lunar module down towards the surface before returning to the command module. The lunar module's ascent stage was sent into orbit around the Sun, unlike later ascent stages, which were left in lunar orbit to later crash on the Moon's surface, meaning the Apollo 10 ascent stage is the only derelict once-crewed spacecraft still somewhere in space (a recent study indicates that the asteroid 2018 AV2 is probably the spacecraft). This Apollo mission has special significance for me personally, since I was born while it was taking place.

Not only were there missions to the Moon before Apollo 11, but there were quite a few afterwards. From Apollo 12 in November 1969 to Apollo 17 in December 1972, there were five more successful Moon landings in which Pete Conrad, Alan Bean, Alan Shepard, Edgar Mitchell, David Scott, John Young, Charlie Duke, Gene Cernan, and Harrison Schmidt walked on the Moon, in the later cases staying for as long as three days on the surface of the Moon. The one mission without a Moon landing was Apollo 13, in which an explosion in the service module forced an emergency return to Earth, though they have to fly by the Moon in order to gain the velocity to make it back to the Earth. This meant that Jim Lovell, who commanded the mission, became the first person to fly to the Moon twice (Young and Cernan did it later), and the only one to go twice without landing. In all, in addition to the 12 people mentioned above who walked on the Moon, there were 12 more, including Lovell, Borman, Stafford, Collins, et al, who flew to the Moon without landing. What's unfortunate is that of the 12 who walked on the Moon, only Aldrin, Scott, Duke and Schmidt are still alive, though eight of the 12 who flew to the Moon without landing are still alive (oddly enough, the only Moon mission with all three members of its crew still alive is the earliest, Apollo 8; on the other hand, all three astronauts who flew on Apollos 12 and 14 have died). Lovell and Borman are 91, and Aldrin at 89 is the oldest of the remaining moonwalkers. Charlie Duke is the youngest, but even he is 83. As I noted in my previous post on the subject, there's a danger that if humans don't make it back to the Moon in the near future that there will come a time when there's no one alive who has been there. For now, at least, many of them seem to be in good health for their age. Late last month I attended the Starmus festival in Zurich, and Aldrin, Duke, Schmidt, and Al Worden (command module pilot on Apollo 15) all attended and seemed in good shape. Collins was supposed to come but his trip was vetoed by his doctor, though it was seemingly nothing serious. Regrettably, I didn't manage to meet any of the Apollo guys, though I saw them all up close and did interact a bit with a few of the other speakers.

Incidentally, I have almost finished reading Michael Collins' autobiography Carrying the Fire, which is widely regarded as one of the best if not the best Apollo astronaut autobiography, and is also notable for being written by Collins alone, without help from a ghostwriter or co-author. It is indeed very good and is fascinating reading, doing much to support a reference I once saw to Collins as the most articulate of the Apollo astronauts. He certainly comes across as very knowledgeable on a variety of topics. While a professional co-author might have smoothed out some of his transitions in topics, in many ways his occasional tangents and throwaway remarks make the book more interesting than they would be otherwise. He also manages to inject a fair amount of humor as well as managing to keep up the pacing throughout the book. There are a few bits that are not exactly politically correct by today's standards, but are pretty standard fare for the time it was written in the early 1970s. Collins himself said in a recent interview that he hasn't read it in years and if he did would probably find things he thought were wrong or that he disagreed with, and perhaps those might include his slightly disdainful attitude towards hippies or his relief that women weren't recruited into the Apollo program (his chief reasons were the need to redesign the spacesuits and the awkwardness of having to relieve oneself in mixed company). On the other hand, he expressed regret that they didn't have any black astronauts in the program, and other parts of the book show that he had a fairly progressive outlook for the time.

One of the most impressive parts of the book was the very end, where he talks about the effect that going to the Moon had on him personally; delves into the question of whether the Apollo program was worth it, giving an even-handed overview of the arguments on both sides, though naturally concluding that it was; explains the foolishness of an "either/or" mentality ("Either cure cancer or fly in space") when it's possible to try to do both; and talks about the fragility of Earth as a planet, including the danger of polluting it without restraint (he refers to the pollution residues from use of fossil fuels as "unholy evidence of our collective insanity") and how our common interest in keeping our home planet habitable outweighs the things that separate us. Another impressive part of the book was his prefaces to the 40th and 50th anniversary editions, which make even more apparent that he has a clear and even progressive view of the world's major problems. For instance, he stated in 2009 and restated in 2019 that "we need a new economic paradigm to produce prosperity without growth", a sentiment I heartily agree with, "socialist" though some might think it. He also cited rising global temperatures as a serious problem in his 2019 preface, a refreshing change from a few of his fellow Apollo astronauts, who despite being otherwise very intelligent have in a couple of cases made comments indicating they are (or at least were) climate change deniers. Collins, on the other hand, very wisely recognizes that global warming, overpopulation and endless, unsustainable growth are serious problems.

But to return to the Moon landings, it is easy to underestimate their importance. Yes, to a large extent they were a one-off (even though there were six of them), an outgrowth of the Cold War that were motivated as much or more by geopolitics as a genuine urge to accomplish the incredible. But nevertheless, not only did they force a much more rapid advance in many areas of technology than might have occurred (among many other things, computers had to be miniaturized far beyond what had been previously achieved, though of course now Apollo-era computers seem incredibly primitive), but they inspired a whole generation of scientists, engineers, and innovators, something which is far more important than people realize. Apollo also showed that with a concentrated effort by many intelligent, dedicated people we can things that seem almost impossible at the outset. This is a lesson that we should take to heart today.

Of course, even at the time, there was considerable opposition to the Apollo program, and both then and now people talk about the contrast between the amazing achievement of putting humans on the Moon and the enormous problems that we can't seem to solve on Earth, a contrast that is captured well in John Stewart's contemporary song "Armstrong". Many argued and sometimes still argue that the money spent on Apollo would have been better spent on Earth. But this criticism was and is misguided. Yes, both then and now, more should be spent on addressing poverty, disease, and environmental degradation, among other things. But there are many much more wasteful things that we could take money from to do so, whether it's public spending on the military or tax breaks for the wealthy, or private spending on frivolities like sports and cosmetics. Space exploration, on the other hand, provides profound benefits to humanity, both practical and abstract, and is worth every penny. And as Michael Collins stated in his speech to a joint session of Congress a few months after Apollo 11, "We cannot launch our planetary probes from a springboard of poverty, discrimination or unrest; but neither can we wait until each and every terrestrial problem has been solved." As he says, we can both work to solve our problems on Earth and continue to explore space at the same time.

Another point worth remembering is that while Apollo shows what we can do if we put our minds to it, that doesn't mean that even an all-out, Apollo-type effort will be met with the same success if we try it in other areas. Despite the immense difficulty of landing people on the Moon, it had the advantage of being a clear goal that would either be achieved or not, with no ambiguity. If we set out to eliminate poverty, on the other hand, not only would we be taking on a task that is even more massive than going to the Moon, we would have to agree not only on how to do it, but how to know if we'd succeeded. After all, it's not as if there's even a consensus on how to define poverty. Another advantage we had with Apollo was that there was no active opposition in the sense of people working directly against the goal, though there were many who considered it a waste of resources. But if we set out to bring carbon emissions to zero by a certain date, as indeed we should, while the goal is clear enough there will be many forces actively trying to work against it, such as the powerful interests that make their money from fossil fuels. This is not to say that we shouldn't use Apollo as inspiration for future transformative projects like addressing the climate crises, just that we should understand that as hard as Apollo was, it was considerably easier than some of the things we should now be trying to do.

Finally, there's the question of going back to the Moon itself. Of course this is something I'd like to see happen, and the sooner the better, since as noted above it's hard to tell how much longer the last few living moonwalkers will be around and I'd like to see someone get to the Moon while at least one or two of them are still alive. I will admit that I'd rather it not be the Chinese who get there first, though if they make it there afterwards is fine, and I also certainly wouldn't want to see the current US administration get credit for an American return to the Moon. While it'd be nice to view the exploration of space as something that transcends politics, the truth is even a wonderful achievement like going to the Moon could be misused, particularly by nationalist types like those running both the Chinese and US governments. Of course if the US doesn't have a new president in less than two years we're all in trouble anyway. But I digress. As I said above, space exploration is definitely worth the money, so ideally we'll see more of it by the US, the European Union, Japan, India, and, yes, China too, alongside private companies like Space X and Blue Origin. There are a lot of serious questions to be addressed as soon as possible, like how exploitation of resources in space will be regulated and what measures we need to take in terms of planetary protection (i.e., the contamination of other places by Earth organisms or vice versa), but those should only affect how we explore space, not whether we do so. After all, while the Apollo missions to the Moon may be the pinnacle of human achievement so far, we don't want them to always be so. 

Farewell to 2018

So another eventful year is coming to an end, but unfortunately one in which I've mostly neglected to update this blog. Like so many other things, once I'm out of the habit of doing it, it's hard to get back into it. Still, I hope to at least occasionally manage to make a few entries next year. And whether I do or not, let's hope there're are at least a few good things to write about, such as cool new astronomical discoveries, or good political developments or election results (i.e., more like this year's US congressional and governor races or the elections in the Maldives, less like Taiwan's local elections or the presidential election in Brazil). So we'll just have to see what the future brings. In any case, happy new year!

2018 US Elections - My Ballot

Unlike many other Americans, I didn't have to be shocked into voting by the disastrous results of the previous election, as I already generally made an effort to vote, even in mid-term elections (though I may have missed one or two in the years I've been overseas). But as is true for many other people I know, this time around, there's an extra edge of urgency. Fortunately I got my ballot fairly early this year, so I was able to mail it back to the US in plenty of time. I don't want to make any predictions this time, as my last somewhat cautiously optimistic predictions didn't exactly pan out well (in my defense, most people and most polls made similar predictions - if only they had been right...). I of course hope that the Democrats do well enough to take back the House and Senate, but given all the gerrymandering, vote suppression, and of course all the lies and distortions funded by right wing money (not to mention the stubborn ignorance of a substantial portion of the voting public), it won't be easy, even if they win the majority of the votes. As for the people I'm voting for, given Texas's conservative tilt, it's unlikely that many of them will win except in the case of a few local races, though there are a few that have a shot in the statewide races.

My ballot this year is simplified considerably by the fact that there are Democrats running in all but one race on it, and there are no Green candidates at all. As I mentioned in my discussion of my votes in the previous election, while in theory I would be happy to see a progressive/liberal alternative to the Democrats, particularly one that advocated stronger action on the environment, this should not be at the cost of throwing the election to the Republicans, which is what would inevitably happen in most races in Texas if a Green candidate drew a significant number of votes. But this time, the only alternatives in most races are a Democrat, a Republican and in some cases a Libertarian. At this point, there is no way I would vote for anyone who identifies themselves as a Republican. The party is so far gone that on the national level, the so-called "moderate" Republicans are people like Susan Collins, whose voting record is in fact mostly very right wing, even to the point of voting to confirm a blatant liar, obvious partisan hack, and likely (former) sexual predator to a seat on the Supreme Court. No one with even a modicum of principles and sense should willingly be identified with the extremist disaster the Republican party has become. As for the Libertarians, while I tend to agree with many of them on a few specific issues, on many other issues they are as bad as the Republicans. Indeed it's only for the sake of thoroughness that I'm bothering to look at their positions. Really, for pretty much every race it just comes down to making sure the Democrat is not obviously terrible.

Indeed, this is an instance where I decided it probably makes sense to just vote a Democratic straight party ticket. What I ended up doing was filling in the ovals for pretty much every Democrat in a contested race and then going back and filling in the straight party oval for the Democrats for good measure. Straight ticket voting won't be an option in near future races, as Texas is getting rid of it (I suppose the Republicans who control the legislature decided that it helps the Democrats more than it does them). Normally, I wouldn't vote a straight party ticket, since as a matter of general principle I think it best to look at each race separately, judging each candidate on their individual merits, but I have become so disgusted with the Republican party that in the absence of a true progressive alternative (and not a spoiler) the Democrats are the only game in town. When the stranglehold that the Republican extremists have on Texas is finally broken there will time enough to start seriously considering alternatives to the Democrats.

Below I have listed the candidates in the main races and my choices, which were as noted above all Democrats. Though there actually is some variation in how terrible the individual Republican (and Libertarian) candidates are and how good (or mediocre or just lacking in information) the Democratic candidates are, I didn't bother going into detail this time around.

US Senator

Beto O'Rourke (D)

Ted Cruz (R)
Neal Dikeman (L)

My Vote –  Beto O'Rourke

US Representative, District 24
Jan McDowell (D)
Kenny Marchant (R)
Mike Kolls (L)

My Vote – Jan McDowell

Governor
Lupe Valdez (D)
Greg Abbott (R)
Mark Tippetts (L)

My Vote – Lupe Valdez

Lieutenant Governor
Mike Collier (D)
Dan Patrick (R)
Kerry McKennon (L)

My Vote – Mike Collier

Attorney General
Justin Nelson (D)
Ken Paxton (R)
Michael Harris (L) 

My Vote – Justin Nelson

Comptroller of Public Accounts
Joi Chevalier (D)
Glenn Hegar (R)
Ben Sanders (L)

My Vote – Joi Chevalier

Commissioner of the General Land Office
Miguel Suazo (D)
George P. Bush (R)
Matt Pina (L)

My Vote – Miguel Suazo

Commissioner of Agriculture
Kim Olson (D)
Sid Miller (R)
Richard Carpenter (L)

My Vote – Kim Olson

Railroad Commissioner
Roman McAllen (D)
Christi Craddick (R)
Mike Wright (L)

My Vote – Roman McAllen

Justice, Supreme Court, Place 2
Steven Kirkland (D)
Jimmy Blacklock (R)

My Vote – Steven Kirkland

Justice, Supreme Court, Place 4
R.K. Sandill (D)
John Devine (R)

My Vote – R.K. Sandill

Justice, Supreme Court, Place 6
Kathy Cheng (D)
Jeff Brown (R)

My Vote – Kathy Cheng

Presiding Judge, Court of Criminal Appeals
Maria T. (Terri) Jackson (D)
Sharon Keller (R)
William Bryan Strange III (L)

My Vote – Maria T. (Terri) Jackson

Judge, Court of Criminal Appeals, Place 7
Ramona Franklin (D)
Barbara Parker Hervey (R)

My Vote – Ramona Franklin

Judge, Court of Criminal Appeals, Place 8
Mark Ash (R)
Michelle Slaughter (L)

My Vote – None (this was the only race without a Democrat, and the other two choices were awful)

Member, State Board of Education, District 11
Carla Morton (D)
Patricia Hardy (R)
Aaron Gutknecht (L)

My Vote – Carla Morton

State Senator, District 16
Nathan Johnson (D)
Don Huffines (R)

My Vote – Nathan Johnson

State Representative, District 103
Rafael Anchia (D)
Jerry Fortenberry (R)

My Vote – Rafael Anchia

A Brief Update

As is readily apparent, I've recently slacked off somewhat on making regular blog posts. April was the first month in which I failed to post anything at all since I started this blog several years ago, and having let myself skip one month, it was easy to let myself skip another and then another. The problem is not so much that I don't have anything to say; on the contrary, I have a great deal to say about (to cite some examples from April and May) the continuing stupidity and downright cruelty of the current US administration, the ongoing efforts by the Chinese government to create a dystopian police state in East Turkestan (or as they call it, Xinjiang), the urgent need to address environmental issues such as climate change and plastic in our oceans, the death of moonwalker and painter Alan Bean, mob violence in India, political changes in Malaysia, and much more (such as, say, the disgraceful vote to confirm a US Supreme Court nominee who not only has been credibly accused of sexual assault but who blatantly lied to the Senate or the Saudi government's outrageous murder of a journalist). It's just that I am constantly being distracted by other things and can't seem to find the time to sit down and write something that I find satisfactory on these issues. Admittedly, it isn't the highest priority at the moment, not because these things aren't important or even that I don't think I have anything worthwhile to say on them, just that given that my blog at the moment functions largely like a journal or diary of private musings, albeit one that is sitting open for anyone who comes across it to read, it has to take second place to other things. Nevertheless, just for my own sake, I will continue to post here, if somewhat sporadically, if only because I find it useful to organize my thoughts on various topics by writing them out, and it can also be a relief to express them out loud, as it were, even if only a few people are likely to hear (i.e., read) them. It's not much fun being opinionated entirely in your own head, and while I do make use of other outlets for expressing my thoughts, whether friends and acquaintances or even comment pages on the Internet (though most of those are rabbit holes that I avoid like the plague), those have their limitations. And if in the future more people become aware of this blog (even an audience that was a sizable fraction of that of my radio show would be something) both old and new posts will acquire additional meaning. Of course with greater attention would come attendant problems such as people uncovering errors or badly worded, even potentially offensive, statements. I would hope that there aren't too many of either of those, but it's hard to be certain. I should probably go back and read everything I've written just in case, but that's another thing that's not high enough on my list of priorities....

Fashion, Cosmetics, and Other Frivolities

Today, rather than writing about current events, books or even history, I want to write about a more general subject that I also have some opinions on. The truth is, I am fairly opinionated about a wide range of subjects, though I do my best to be as fair and objective as I can in what I say about them. Nevertheless, I still may sometimes get carried away and make my point a little more strongly than I intended. I try to justify this by the fact that in such cases I'm usually attacking the more popular or mainstream position - I'm "punching up", as it were, and I am exaggerating my point in order to give it greater weight. That said, I may accidentally step on a few toes here and there, and if so, I express my apologies to anyone might reasonably take offense.

All this is a rambling preamble to my rant on fashion and cosmetics, the topic I want to tackle today. Both of these industries are enormous ones that bring in billions of dollars each year (okay, I'll admit I haven't bothered to look up the actual numbers, but I'd be very surprised if the annual spending globally on either is less than nine figures). In Taiwan, the first floors of all the major department stores are given over entirely to cosmetics, and clothing and accessories occupy most of the other floors. The shopping mall at the bottom of Taipei 101, the tallest building in Taiwan and one of the tallest in the world, is nearly entirely given over to high end fashion shops selling Louis Vitton, Bvlgari, Chanel, and other such brands. Stores selling slightly less fancy fashion brands are found all over, as are ads for cosmetics . But to be blunt, I find the vast majority of this to be a complete waste of resources and human energy, and I can only wonder what the world would be like if most of the money that is spent on such things went to something useful or at least more forward-looking (say, an international effort to colonize space). Granted, a fair amount of this is my admittedly subjective opinion, but there is some real reasoning behind it, and I'll get into both aspects below.

First, I must acknowledge that naturists notwithstanding, people need clothing, and it's not unreasonable to want those clothes to look nice, though again what looks good is a matter of opinion. I can even understand how some people could get into designing their own original clothing styles, and how those creations might appeal to others. So I'm not saying that there's anything inherently wrong with fashion designers, much less clothing stores. But when people spend huge sums of money on a clothing item or accessory like a hand bag simply because it's a famous brand, I have to say I find that ridiculous. For that matter, if you really care about what clothing you wear, why would you want to just wear exactly what a bunch of other people are wearing rather than coming up with your own original combinations, perhaps put together out of some cheaper or even recycled clothing (see the song "Thrift Shop" by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis for some similar sentiments)? Of course not everyone has the imagination to think of something original, and not everyone cares enough to bother. But in the later case, my own opinion is that you are better off wearing clothes that are relatively plain. After all, the more extreme fashions generally end up dating rather quickly, whereas plainer clothes, while maybe not ever being exactly "in style", at least won't ever look silly. But in any case I think the world would better off if people spent a lot less money and energy pursuing the latest fashion, not only because that money would be better spent elsewhere, but because the tendency of people to discard perfectly wearable clothing because they want something new and "fashionable" wastes resources and exacerbates the exploitation of workers in developing nations, though it should be said that cheap clothing is just as likely - or even more likely - to be made by exploited workers, which is why durable fair trade clothing with clear supply chains should be encouraged or even required. While I haven't figured out where to get such clothing in Taiwan, I do my bit by wearing clothing until holes, serious fading of the colors, or my wife force me to stop, and even then I'll still wear it around the house.

Then there are cosmetics. Again, I have to acknowlege that cosmetics have a very long history, dating back to prehistoric times and maybe even to archaic humans (i.e. close relatives of our species like the Neanderthals). I can also see how some people might enjoy experimenting with different cosmetic combinations. But again, people take it to ridiculous extremes. Objectively speaking, putting lots of cosmetics on your face on a regular basis is not going to be good for your skin in the long run, especially since not all of the chemicals in them have been tested as well as they be, and of course money not spent on cosmetics could be spent elsewhere. In my subjective opinion (one that I know a fair number of other people share), cosmetics don't generally do much for the appearance either. On my long commutes into the center of the city, I have more than once seen women spend their commuting time putting on make-up, and almost invariably they looked better when they started than when they finished. Again, this is my opinion, but I've mentioned this to a number of other people, and most of them said they felt the same. I won't deny that a judicious use of cosmetics can sometimes be effective, but my observation is that the effect is better if they are only used on special occasions, and in moderation. In fact, they generally work best if at a casual glance the person doesn't look like they are using them at all.

One thing I, as a straight male, have always liked about Taiwan is that many women don't use cosmetics or at least don't use them much. Of course there are plenty of women in Taiwan who do use them, sometimes to excess. But it isn't as universal as in many countries. In South Korea, for example, it seems like the vast majority of women use a great deal of cosmetics, and they all use them in the same way. Coupled with their excessive use of cosmetic surgery (another topic I have strong opinions about, particularly the questionable ethics of actually advertising such "services"), they end up all looking rather similar to each other. Once more, this is my opinion, but I know many people who say they get the same impression.

In any event, when I walk down a street filled with shop after shop of clothes, or when I walk into the first floor of a department store filled with endless stalls of cosmetics, or when I walk through the mall at Taipei 101 (which I used to actually like to go to, as it had a good bookstore - since closed down with its former space taken over by some fashion brand's store), filled with shops selling ridiculously overpriced fashion brands, I have to think that our society and the entire system of global capitalism is seriously messed up, with huge amounts of money and energy dedicated to things of little substance. Here I must acknowledge another issue. It happens that both fashion and cosmetics, the latter in particular, are more popular among women than men. Lest it be thought that my disdain for these things is largely rooted in sexism, I should note that I have a similar opinion of the typically male fascination with automobiles and sports (I was a sports fan as a child, but I gradually lost interest in my college years, which is also when I got over the fascination with fast driving that started in my high school years). Again, I don't think that sports are bad, but making them into a multi-billion dollar industry with all the TV deals, merchandising, fantasy leagues and so forth is taking things way too far. Of course I can't say that my gender doesn't play any role in my lack of interest in fashion and cosmetics, but I really don't think that is the main driver for the opinions expressed there. I would be prepared to admit to there perhaps being an element of intellectual elitism involved, however. Of course I don't expect everyone in the world to devote their energy to highbrow intellectual pursuits all the time; indeed fashion and sports are in their way as worthwhile as literature and science. But when your average shopping district or shopping mall has fifty times as many shops selling clothing, accessories or cosmetics as it does bookstores (if it has any bookstores at all) or when a society spends many times as much money on fashion, cosmetics, or sports as it does on scientific research and education, I think things are a little bit out of balance.

Guns, Guns, and More Guns

Guns are currently a hot topic in the US, with the recent mass shooting at a Florida high school leading to renewed calls to finally take some substantial steps to reduce gun violence. My own opinions on such matters are pretty clear cut - more guns lead to more gun violence, no civilian needs to (or should be allowed to) own a semi-automatic weapon or high-capacity magazine, a thorough background check should be completed for every single gun sale, and a national gun registry should be established. But in the interest of, ahem, fairness, I'll let the "guest" author of a prior post on guns present his side of the argument:

A few years ago I made a modest proposal to prevent school shootings: we should arm not only the teachers but the students as well. Unfortunately, not even the most dedicated of the patriotic gun loving politicians had the boldness to formally advocate this. Now look what's happened! People should have listened to me! Still, at least some of them have once more promoted the intermediate step of arming the teachers. Some naysayers argue that this would be expensive, as we'd be talking several hundred thousand teachers at a minimum. But come on now, our country should be willing to spend as much as it takes to put guns in teachers' hands. It would be a much better investment than paying for things like books or school supplies, because education has to take a backseat to getting more guns out there...I mean, making schools safe.

Some argue that having a bunch of armed teachers wouldn't necessarily make schools safer either, since even battle-hardened soldiers can have trouble in an actual shootout, let alone teachers who've had a little training but have never actually had someone shooting at them. But don't those people know that life is like a movie or video game? The good guy will always manage to get his shot off under pressure. And the same argument applies to those who say that going up against a semi-automatic weapon with a handgun is like bringing a knife to a gunfight. Just give the teachers the guns and we can count on them. If they should panic and run, or accidentally hit a student, or otherwise mess up when they're under fire, we'll just put the blame on their personal inadequacies. Guns are always right, it's the people who use them who are sometimes wrong.

As for this crazy idea of banning semi-automatic weapons or instituting universal background checks, it's like Marco Rubio, one of the gun lobby's most loyal paid...er, that is, friends in Congress, said, if some bad guy really wants to shoot up a school or something, he'll find a way to get the gun he needs... so we should make it as easy as possible for him to do so. And if he does, and he goes on a rampage, we'll be certain to blame the authorities for failing to take note of his obvious mental health issues, even if he hadn't actually been known to have any. At least if he's a white guy; if he's black or Muslim or something then it was clearly his ideology that should have alerted authorities. In any case, it will always be authorities' fault for not knowing this person was dangerous. The fact that he could buy a really powerful weapon without having to go through an onerous background check will never be the problem. After all, tougher background checks might inconvenience me and others who want to buy more beautiful, beautiful guns, and a ban on guns like AR-15s would stop us from buying them. We can't have that. Aside from the fact that they're just cool and so we shouldn't be denied them, I can imagine possible situations where I might actually need one. Some may claim the chances are small, but you always have to prepare for any eventuality, however unlikely. A refugee who went through years of vetting might still be a terrorist, so we can't let them in; my cat might decide to murder me in my sleep by lying on my nose and mouth and suffocating me, so I have to lock it out of my bedroom at night; aliens might be controlling my neighbor so I can't let him in my apartment; and I might be attacked by a gang of robbers or a squad of government agents, so I need to be able to buy a semi-automatic weapon.

Finally, all these companies ending their relationships with the NRA are absolutely crossing the line. Like some of the NRA's loyal pets...I mean friends in the Georgia legislature said, not letting NRA members have a special discount for being NRA members is clearly discrimination against conservatives. If you don't give us preferential treatment, you are discriminating against us.

So I hope that clears everything up. Guns are not the problem, they are the solution. And the fact that other countries that don't have nearly as many guns also have a lot less gun violence is purely coincidence.

Hmm, okay then....

A Brief Tribute to Two Giants: John Young and Ursula Le Guin

In this past month the world has lost two larger than life individuals: John Young, one of our greatest space explorers, and Ursula K. Le Guin, one of our greatest science fiction writers - indeed, one of our greatest writers of any genre. Admittedly, neither death could be considered a great shock, as they were both in their late 80s (Young was 87, Le Guin was 88). Nevertheless, it's always sad to know that the world has lost one more great individual, and that there is no chance of any more wisdom or knowledge coming from ones who have provided so much in the past.

Not long after Young's death, I posted a short tribute on Facebook, which I am basically just copying here, with a few modifications: John Young had one of the most impressive careers of any space traveler. He was one of only two dozen people who flew to the Moon, one of the dozen people who actually set foot on it, and the only astronaut to fly on Gemini, Apollo, AND the space shuttle (he flew two missions of each type, including the very first space shuttle flight). He was the only person to have piloted four types of spacecraft, as he flew both the Apollo Command Module and the Apollo Lunar Module in addition to Gemini and the Space Shuttle. His total of six spaceflights is still among the highest ever, with only two astronauts having flown seven times and only six others equaling Young's total - in fact, Young actually launched into space seven times if his taking off from the Moon is included, by which count he would be tied for the record. He was one of only three men to fly to the Moon twice; both he and fellow moonwalker Gene Cernan, who died last January, were on Apollo 10, which flew to the Moon without landing just two months before the historic landing by Apollo 11. The Apollo 10 mission holds special significance for me due to its timing (let's just say my mother tells me she listened to news of the mission in the hospital). Sadly, Tom Stafford is now the only member of the crew who is still alive. Only five of the dozen moonwalkers are still alive, as are eight of the additional dozen who flew to the Moon without landing (the command pilots from the six missions with landings, and the crews of the three missions that went to the Moon without a landing). With Young's death, none of the pairs who walked on the Moon together is still intact; there is one man left from five of the six missions with a moon landing. The entire crew of Apollo 14 has died. The only crew with all three members still alive is, ironically, that of Apollo 8, the first mission to fly to the Moon. One of that crew was Jim Lovell, who also flew to the Moon twice, but never landed because of the accident suffered by his second mission, Apollo 13. Charles Duke, who walked on the Moon with Young, is by several months the youngest of the moonwalkers; he'll be 83 in October. Of those who only flew to the Moon without visiting, the youngest, Ken Mattingly, is 81. In another decade or so, there may be only one or two people left who have visited the Moon (unless SpaceX pulls off its planned Moonshot in the next few years). Even so, the legacy of John Young and his fellow Apollo astronauts will live on as long as we keep their memory alive.

As for Ursula Le Guin, she was widely regarded as one of the best writers working in the genres generally known as science fiction and fantasy. Her writing was never flashy and her worlds were not as elaborate as many other fictional ones, and yet they felt very real. Perhaps in part because of her background - her father was an anthropologist while her mother was a writer - she was able to create very convincing societies, even if they were often quite different from any that exist in the real world, such as those in books like The Left Hand of Darkness. She used the genre of speculative fiction to explore many real world issues, including gender relations, war and violence, environmentalism, the contrast between socialism and capitalism, and much more. Yet her books didn't preach; they simply painted a realistic picture and left the reader to draw their own conclusions. There is still much of her work that I haven't read, and a number of books that I've only read once and have now mostly forgotten, but I have enjoyed pretty much everything I've read of hers, from well known classics like her Earthsea books, The Left Hand of Darkness, and The Dispossessed to more recent works like her Annals of the Western Shore (Gifts, Voices and Powers), and I'm sure I'll be coming back to these and others of her books for years to come. The little I've read of her non-fiction prose has also been clear, concise and well-reasoned. I highly recommend her work to all readers, regardless of age - she has written a number of children's books, and the Earthsea books were aimed at young adults - and genre preference - her characters and themes are universal, and one doesn't have to be a fan of science fiction or fantasy to appreciate her work.