When we moved into our Toronto apartment in early december, we found a pigeon had already moved in before. There were two chicks in the “nest”, so we decided to let them be. The quotes are there to signify to disparity between the mental image of a bird’s nest and the crude heap of birdshit, twigs and dirt that they scrambled together.

We observed the chicks growing up through a window, and it seemed that one of them was a bit stronger than the other. It started pushing the other away when food was served. The size difference grew, and one day we found the smaller one dead and pushed out of the “nest”. Which, combined with Tak’s story, makes me think that this is a fairly common occurence in urban pigeons.

We removed the dead bird (alas, no burial. Down the chute it went), and let the other one grow up before I went in in protective gear (That smell is something else) and removed the mess.

And if you’ve ever wondered why there is no pigeon babies anywhere: the young was almost fully grown before it dared the jump off our balcony for the first time. But even though it looked like a real pigeon at that point, it remained fairly clueless, as the above picture shows.

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Die Anlage amerikanischer Städte lädt ein zu diesem Experiment. Die meisten Strassen folgen einem Gittermuster, zwei treffen sich an den Kreuzungen. Die Stadt und Strecken in ihr zerfallen in identische Blocks.

Oben zu sehen ist der Durchschnitt aus 50 Strassenabschnitten, je gesehen von der Kreuzung aus. Man erkennt Leitungen, Strassenmarkierungen und geparkte Autos als geisterhafte Schatten, die Vegetation verschmilzt im grünen Nebel, die Häuser zu einer dunklen Wand. Zeigt dieser Durchschnitt Essenz oder Verfremdung? Und wie weit ist jene von dieser entfernt? Einen Block?

(Der Titel dieses Posts ist der Titel eines bei Elefanten-Press erschienen Buches)

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In North Berkeley, along Shattuck, stretches the collection of fancy shops, nice restaurants and upscale knickknackeries known as Gourmet Ghetto. On a normal, sunny day, the patrons of the Cheeseboard Collective will populate the grassy median of this busy road, to gobble down their high quality vegetarian organic superpizza. Even the signs they have conquered, to spell their minds.

Just across the street is Chez Panisse, the legendary and legendarily expensive upper crust cafe. Someday I will go there, to their downstairs section, where things are more moderately priced and a tad less glam.

In the meantime, I’ll get my lunch at Jimmy Beans in Haas business school, a greasy Cajun chicken sandwich with a bit of Cesar salad. And while I’m in the throng of overdressed nasties waiting for my grub, I’ll hear one of them answering the rhetorical howareyou with “Pretty well. Our clients just took us out for lunch to Chez Panisse and served some Champagne. They’re pretty cool.”

Not that I really think I’m in the wrong business, but am I?

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Während ich meine Kreise ziehe, frage ich mich, warum ich sie ziehe. Nicht dass das Umgraben der rindenstückbestreuten Scheibe unberührte Natur zerstörte. Aber seltsam ist es doch, dass der Schaffensimpuls inmitten der vollständig durchgestalteten Campuslandschaft sich eine Nische sucht, der ein persönlicher Stempel aufgedrückt werden kann. Es liesse sich argumentieren, dass der Frühmensch suchte, was er zu formen verstand, und experimentierte, und spielerisch die Kräfte meisterte, die jetzt uralte Farnwälder in quadratkilometergrosse Plastikteppiche verwandeln, und der Gestaltungswille also in der Fähigkeit zur Technologie aufginge.

Aber selbst wenn das stimmte, legten sich doch um den mechanischen Verhaltenskern Schichten von Komplikationen, persönliche Eitelkeit, Trotz gegen die Anonymität, Ä?sthetik reiner Formen, Kontraste auf etlichen Abstraktionsebenen, um nur ein paar zu nennen, und zuletzt schliesst sich die Zwiebel aus Motiven zur ganzen Frucht:? und gefällt.

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It’s a widely held belief these days that the world we perceive results as much from objects affecting our sense organs as it does from our brain imposing preformed categories on the sensory input, according to some probabilistic or statistical scheme. So a bunch of completely independent contrast boundaries becomes an outline, because it’s unlikely boundary fragments would align if they were not part of some common shape. And once our visual system has connected the lines, the shapes resulting from that trigger yet another inference system, that supposes that anything that looks like a face in all likelihood is one. And thus a robot stares at out you from a collection of 36 image tiles that are not robotlike at all.

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Ein leises Schnappen, das teure LED-Fahrradlicht springt ohne Vorwarnung vom Lenker und zerschellt auf dem Asphalt in sechs Teile. Zwei Batterien, Basis und Deckel, Spiegel und transparente Front verteilen sich über auf die befahrene Strasse. In den Pausen zwischen den Autos sammle ich sie wieder ein, für jede Komponente muss ich eine halbe Minute warten. Die zweite Batterie ist gequetscht, als ich sie aufsammle, aber noch dicht.

Berkeley, Deutsch, Miniaturen | No Comments »

Nacht, aussen. Buntes Licht im Schee. Sirene.

Lautsprecherstimme: Get out of the traffic and park your car.

Ein Schnauzbartträger steigt aus der Highway Patrol Wagen. Der virtuelle Schnauzträger am Steuer des gestoppten Wagens lässt die Scheibe runter.

Schnauz: Get out of your car. You know why you got pulled over? For speeding. I need your license.
virtueller Schnauz: steigt aus. Speeding? Händigt den Führerschein aus.
S: scharf That’s what I said. I didn’t stutter. Sit on the passenger side.
V: schluckt, steigt ein
S: Where are you headed?
V: The Bay Area.
S: Do you have any idea what the speed limit is on this road under chain conditions?
V: Err.
S: It’s obvious you don’t, you don’t give a damn. What do you think the speed limit might be?
V: Well, I thought it would be whatever is reasonable to drive under these conditions.
S: You think it might be 65?
V: schaut aus dem Fenster, wo ein Schild mit einer 65 drauf am Strassenrand steht, wittert die Falle. No.
S: Have you ever been an officer?
V: ?
S: schärfer Have you ever been an officer?
V: No.
S: Well, I have been an officer for 23 years. Have you been at the site of an accident?
V: Err. No.
S: I have been. I have seen cars like yours tipped over. How fast were you going just now.
V: Err, probably something like…
S: 52 maybe?
V: Err.
S: Do you think you might have been going 52 miles an hour?
V: I guess so.
S: Would you be surprised if I told you that the speedlimit on this road is 30 miles an hour right now?
V: gulp
S: That’s right. Did you see me driving along at 40 miles?
V: kleinlaut Yes.
S: Did that make you think?
V: unverständlich
S: When I was flashing my lights at you? Did that give you any ideas?
V: stammelnd Err, I didn’t, wasn’t, I thought, err. No.
S: Nickt zufrieden That’s quite obvious. You know why we close this road? It’s because of people like you in big SUVs, who think they are safe. Caltrans wanted us to reopen the pass, because it has been closed for so long.
V: guckt wie ein Schaf I didn’t see any signs.
S: nickt grimmig Yes, they’re all snowed over. pausiert kurz If I gave you a ticket not, it’s for dangerous driving. That’s 300 dollars.
V: guckt wie eine Schafherde
S: Did I make a point?
V: Mäh!
S: Excuse me?
V: Yes. A whole bunch of points, actually.
S: I hope so. We don’t want to see you hurt, or your lady, or other people. Gibt den Führerschein zurück. Obey the speedlimit.
V: Yes. I will. Have a good night. Steigt aus und stapft durch den Schnee zurück zum SUV.

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snow
Originally uploaded by Genista.

A slightly mysterious view of the bubble snow flakes on top of a sunshade. don’t do this at home.

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heat, closer
Originally uploaded by Genista.

When asked about the strangeness of gas heaters in many houses in an area that is prone to earthquakes, and in a city that has already burned down a few times, she said: It’s a problem.

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At the Bay Street Mall in Emeryville they were having a seasonal attraction: white foam was blown from the roof in tiny patches, looking entirely like snow in the light of the streetlamps. Until it landed on chairs, tables and customers clothing, when it looked like foam again. I’d like to think that the kids who were taken there now believe that snow is made from soap and falls from the roof of stores. But with all the TV they are watching, they of course are well aware that snow comes from Columbia and is bad for your septum.

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