To post or not to post . . . that is the question

There is no political content today. At least, that is the intention as I start to write this epistle.

During the past few years our neighbor’s sons have been members of St. Thomas Episcopal School's famous pipe band. J and I attended several past performances of the school’s Scottish Festival. My Pentax K10D arrived back from repair just in time for the spectacle last Friday. Over the years I have struggled with mixed success to capture good images of the performance. I have also struggled with the whole concept of proper use of photographs of somebody else’s children. This is especially true in today’s world where it is common to post pictures on the Web. Few Web systems offer any promise that postings can ever be completely deleted. Most web pages can be indexed, cached and stored forever by Google, Yahoo or one of the other search engines. With a little effort any user can download and store images and text displayed on their computer. It is both humbling and frightening. It is humbling because these words may already have been indexed by the time that you read them. It is frightening because people who are embarrassed or hurt by the content of a web page cannot easily have that problem erased or corrected. Posting on the web might almost be the modern equivalent of carving in stone.

And so my images of the Scottish Festival are destined to remain in the dark. The images from the Pentax were much higher quality than those from the old Olympus. That was expected. They taught be a little more about what works in that mixture of dark backgrounds and intense spotlights. They also suggest a compromise – an “artistic” shot that tries to capture the color, rhythm, beauty and excitement of the evening while cloaking the individual performers in mystery. I think that will be the objective for next year.

Gestures can make a difference

The Olympic Games are supposed to be a symbol of international goodwill, sportsmanship and physical rivalry. Our televisions regularly show stories of athletes who have honed their talents and won a place on the national team. These reports suggest that the “spirit of the games” is alive and well. But politics also overshadows the Olympics. The games provide a perfect venue for governments and individuals to make grand demonstrations. In 1936, Nazi Germany used the games to highlight its national and racial ideologies. During the Munich games, terrorists massacred Israeli athletes. The US government led a boycott of the Moscow Olympics to protest actions by the host nation. In 1968, two American athletes received their medals shoeless, but wearing black socks, to represent black poverty. When the national anthem was played they gave a black-power salute. The 2008 Olympic Games may well provide an opportunity for demonstrations that are as far reaching as any of these.

Not since 1936 has a country invested so much national prestige in hosting the games. Not since 1980 have the policies of a host nation caused so much controversy. The latest events in Tibet appear to be a straw that has broken the camel’s back. Already some are calling for a boycott of the games – especially the symbolic “Opening Ceremony”. These calls require a response at a personal and a national level. A spokesman for one of the presidential candidates suggested that the USA is so dependent on China to fund our deficit that we cannot afford to upset them. In that camp economic concerns trump moral considerations. For them, we are already an economic vassal of China. Another presidential candidate has declared for a boycott of the opening ceremony. The third has offered no guidance.

As a friend remarked in Sunday school last week, “We are not called to change the world but we are responsible for our own actions”. So, I shall not be participating in the 2008 Olympics. I shall not watch the television coverage and I shall not buy products from companies that support the games. I know my decisions will have absolutely no affect on China’s human rights policies or how the games evolve. But I remain a true optimist. I remember how Horiatio and his two companions held the bridge and saved Rome, how the 300 Spartans helped defeat the Persian invaders and how the defenders of the Alamo bought time for Texas. Maybe, just maybe, my little gesture will encourage others and like these photographs of two different sides of the Texas story, a gesture doomed to defeat can lead to change. Maybe also, that spokesman’s comment will awaken all the presidential candidates to our nation’s real weakness - a weakness caused because we are so indebted to foreigners that we have no freedom to act as we choose.

Caracas - and 4megapixels

I spent last week in Caracas. A couple of things surprised me. The exchange rate between the US dollar and the Venezuelan Bolívar is fixed by the Venezuelan government. It is about 2.15 Bolivars Fuerte (BF) to the $US. There is also an unofficial rate fixed by the laws of supply and demand. Recently the free market valued the US Dollar around 4.2 BF. Last week, the US Dollar had devalued to 3.8 BF. I was told that the reason for the drop was a demand for bolivars. The Venezuelan tax year ended on March 31 and so people needed bolivars to pay their taxes. Businesses sold US dollars for bolivars. Lots of people selling US Dollars decreased the value of the dollar. I could not help wondering if our government observed this example of free market action. Maybe the fact that the US dollar even lost value against the Bolívar made an impression on some in the White House. One day, our suppliers are going to price and sell crude oil for Euros instead of US Dollars. When that time comes foreigners will not need so many dollars. I do not like to think about how supply and demand will price our currency when there is no artificial demand for it.

My other surprise related to my expectations of crime and safety. My hotel was close to Parc Del Este. This public park is home to Venezuelan birds, trees, flowers and small animals. On Thursday morning I was awake before 6 am so I decided to wander through the park with the old Olympus camera (the Pentax is off for repair!) I left the hotel under a grey sky after dawn and walked to the park. I admit I took some safety precautions. I left my money, credit cards and valuables in the room safe. All I carried were some business cards for identification and about $40 to hand over to any mugger who stopped me. Five minutes later I was in the park. The park was alive. Hordes of early morning joggers almost ran me over. Little old ladies chatting together ignored the nervous gringo with the camera. A guy practicing kendo was in another world. Parc Del Este was probably safer than Memorial Park in Houston. [It may be different at other times of the day!]

But not everything was peaceful. The park is the overnight roosting place for flocks of parrots. The morning peace was continually broken by loud raucous shouts from different groups of green parrots. They reminded me of old couples bickering about whose turn it was to make breakfast. They also made me think of the senseless bickering that goes on between the leaders of some nations I care about. But that is unkind. The parrots appeared to be communicating. I can’t say the same for the politicians.