My first reaction was a reflexive appreciation of progress. I’m a fan of travel by train when I can afford it, and I can schedule my travel such that an Acela ticket does not cost much more than the regional lines. It’s worth it to me when I can swing that.

But, I also thought of this passage from Graham Greene’s Orient Express (aka Stamboul Train):

… In the train, however fast it travelled, the passengers were compulsorily at rest; useless between the walls of glass to feel emotion, useless to try to follow any activity except of the mind; and that activity could be followed without fear of interruption. The world was beating now on Eckman and Stein, telegrams were arriving, men were interrupting the threads of their thought with speech, women were holding dinner-parties. But in the rushing reverberating express, noise was so regular that it was the equivalent of silence, movement was so continuous that after a while the mind accepted it as stillness. Only outside the train was the violence of action possible, and the train would contain him  safely with his plans for three days; by the end of that time he would know quite clearly how to deal with Stein and Mr. Eckman.

There’s something in that passage that captures the essence of train travel for me. I’m hardly against the availability of wifi on trains (and one has long been able to tether their Blackberry or use their 3g modem already), on the contrary, I’m chomping at the bit for the most modern rail to be had being available where I live and want to go. It is just a reminder that we can drown out some experiences by tapping into the ever ubiquitous conduits that take us back to what we already know; possibly keeping us mired in something and than using an opportunity to think in relative solace or observe something new through the coincidence of strangers together on a vessel en route to a different place.

An example:

There‘s a lot of talk about existential risks. I worry that painful episodes are even more likely. You know, 60 million people were killed in WWII. That was certainly exacerbated by the powerful destructive tools that we had then. I‘m fairly optimistic that we will make it through. I‘m less optimistic that we can avoid painful episodes. I do think decentralized communication actually helps reduce violence in the world. It may not seem that way because you just turn on CNN and you‘ve got lots of violence right in your living room. But that kind of visibility actually helps us to solve problems.

I’m not entirely sure that’s a convincing argument right there. The broader idea that decentralized media is an improvement, a catalyst for problem solving and violence reduction is one that I tend to buy into, and have acted explicitly to support.

But, CNN is not a great example – nor does most of the blogosphere seem to be at any given point. There are obvious notable exceptions. Maybe the Enough Project, to pick an example that is reputable and focused on informing about a certain kind of catastrophe the rest of the world is nominally aware of.

CNN is neither decentralized (I suppose it may be more so, technologically, than before) and certainly could be doing a better job, if we think its mandate is to report on global problems and inform its audience enough for them to understand who the stakeholders are and what the possible motivations and causes are.

We need media that less habitually cites mostly official sources, and that constantly questions ostensible motivation and intent, that keeps track of credibility and gives credit where credit is due, rather than to the bearers of titles, and rather than accepting what is given as a reason or goal or assuming such without evidence. The individual reporters (both independent and within large commercial institutions), certain non-profit institutions, activist-journalists, and other media makers who do this consistently seem hardly visible to the general population at the same level as entities like CNN. I only hope that they do catalyze attention and informed change enough to be helpful.

From the point of view of this writer, who witnessed the Washington, DC gathering near the White House, it was both muddy and a muddled thunder.

• The original Boston Tea Party was as much about representation as it was about taxes. Most of the folks in attendence in DC were from out of town; from actual states where they have representation.There may be a broader point to be made about government responsiveness, but that appeared to be lost here.
• A friend pointed out an interesting fact: that the colonists’ taxes sky-rocketed after the American revolution. They had war debt to pay for and representation didn’t help them much there. Truly, that is a significant part of the problem here too, and it seems that those protesting both taxes and the budget overall would protest a deescalation of US militarism.
• It seems to be an uncontroversial point of fact that most of these folks in fact will likely see a decrease in their taxes, as few are likely part of the single digit percentage that make enough to be subject to tax increases (no, I’m not counting the nicotine tax).
• In general the protest seemed to be aimed at straw men, built up by the organizers backed by lobbyists and certain Republican politicians and aimed at the Democrats. Unfortunately this seems to serve long-standing interests and doesn’t really threaten anyone, whoever you thought was responsible for whatever you thought you were protesting if you were a participant.
• With regards to the tea party theme, the unfortunate choice to announce use tea bags as part of the protest, and to use the phrase “tea-bagging,” further alienated this particular exercise from the mainstream.

Still, they stood in the rain, proud to exercise their right to redress their grievances — so long as they were at a certain distance (I’m told they intended to be in front of the Treasury, and got moved to Lafayette Park where I witnessed them later). They were reportedly cleared out of the park when someone threw something (tea bags?) over the White House fence. I’d argue this was largely ineffective, at least in terms of the best ostensible intentions of the participants, that their indigence was used — maybe even against their own interests.

Don’t read these observations as implicit support for Obama’s overall economic policy, or for the nature of the corporate media, this writer is a critic of both. Still, there was also a chuckle or two when viewing this clip from last night’s “Countdown” on MSNBC :

We could probably do with some links and other direct citations here, but this is literally a passing observation written down as both the event and the media of it was absorbed in the course of other business.

Public Knowledge has blogged about this tonight.

I had the privilege of speaking with Sherin Siy earlier today and I appreciate Sherwin Siy’s point of view and his critique of both the situation as we understand it, and of my take on the situation.

I tend to agree with the paraphrasing of Lawrence Lessig that it doesn’t make sense to press copyright too far or all the time when it comes to political speech. But, as it was also noted, my particular photo is not essential to the “dialogue” happening here. It doesn’t make sense to abuse the terms that I’ve willingly shared this work under. And I feel I’ve been deprived of the reserved right to grant permission under other terms to use it further than the chosen Creative Commons terms allow.

I am trying to practice my belief in a “tool” that actually factilates sharing, that strikes a balance so that political speech and other dialogue can benefit from shared culture, from reuse and remixing and inherently maybe even be more constructive when the rules of the Commons are followed. I am trying to strike a balance between that and developing and sustaining my photography.

As I inspect my images closer, and the ads, it appears they may be using one or a couple similar images of mine taken from the same vantage point at about the same time. But that they are my images, unique to this event, remains clear – the angle of the photo, the angle of light, the apparent focal length, the basic nature of the exposure, the matching of key features of the expression, is all consistent with this event and my unique point of view.

This morning I found myself relating to issues brought up today in a New York Times’ article about Times Up! tactics and sites like MyBikeLane.com, which are responses to automobiles regularly disrespecting bike lanes.

It appears that MyBikeLane.com is, while New York City specific for now, intended to scale and eventually target other cities as well.

Here in Washington I’ve had similar experiences, albeit in less harried or intense surroundings than what I know exist in Manhattan and the commercial centers of the other boroughs of New York City. It is still unnerving to be forced to quickly pass into the main lane of traffic because of a vehicle sitting idle in the bike lane.

In addition to the idling delivery trucks and ignorant or disrespectful civilians double-parking, cars with diplomatic plates are repeat offenders in this city. They of course, have nothing to fear (except for the occasional bloody biker splattered across their rear window).

One post to MyBikeLane.com reminds us that cyclists can be “just as bad.” I’m probably guilty on this point too: Sometimes I’ve been forced on to the sidewalk by obnoxious drivers (often out-of-towners who don’t understand that bikes have just as much right of way as other vehicles, and in fact are obligated to ride on the street). I’m sure that appears intimidating to pedestrians. And, in general, I’m still getting my “footing” while biking the busy streets of DC.

DC, like New York and many other cities, has a monthly Critical Mass ride that is part activism and part recreation.

Overall CM still seems to be a well-intentioned asynchronous effort at promoting awareness about cyclists’ rights while crossing-over to issues about urban development and environmental sustainability. Sometimes some of the participants, with varying degrees of coherence, draw connections to poverty, corporate globalization and war in their rides.

That one visit, with me lurking in the back (as I always do when I show), made Refresh instantly valuable as a meaningful connection to a range of professional insights into a community I care about because I want to use the fruits of its labor (even more than I want to build it — I got into building it so that I could use it).

Tonight’s Refresh session was a panel discussion, with Jackson moderating. The topic was start-ups, and the participants ranged from just-out-of-college but-already-veteran partners of Publi.us, who started out with FantasyCongress.com, to a veteran who had seen many start-ups mature and is trying to create a new service, LaunchBox, to help others through the same process. Within that range there was Eric Rupert, who I met by accident as I greeted Jackson — and who turns out to be behind the re-launching of Odeo.com. Odeo, coincidentally, I got to try out early in its first incarnation via a long-time long-distance acquaintance Rabble was working on it in its very early days.

I’m not sure I have a point. This is the selfish trumpeting of a wallflower.

I have managed to plug a bunch of things I can say have piqued my interest at various points and that I’m keeping an eye on — but I’ve got no dramatic insight or particular endorsement to give. I’ll just echo that, anecdotally, DC is feeling like a pretty vibrant new media community. It’s gratifying, also, to see how simply paying attention and making connections can give even a gadfly or a bystander (I consider myself slightly more than that in this realm, but maybe not too much more) a unique insight as how incredibly small the world can be.

It also makes me think about how large the world remains for others, in other contexts. But that’s a heavy tangent to jump onto tonight and, for the moment, I’m weighed down by too much to really get and distill that perspective.

The New York Times quotes a Chinese Olympic official, Qu Yingpu, in response to the protests of the Olympic torch tour as saying “This is not the right time, the right platform, for any people to voice their political views.”

His own apparent belief that he can say that with any authority is politics.

Never mind the inherent nationalism that is always present at the Olympics.

What is poorly articulated in the most well-intentioned statements of this sort is a widely shared desire for the Olympics to be a unifying experience, despite the nationalistic undertones, and generally not a polarizing sort of experience.

That’s great, but there is no getting rid of the politics.

I get the feeling that not all the statements are well-intentioned, and I don’t just mean the ones from Chinese officials this year. I think the Olympics are something of a business, and business is always political too.

That aside, it seems futile to to me to achieve an ideal by proclamation, attempting to exclude voices of the real controversies and atrocities of the world—particularly those in which the hosts, and implicitly more powerful than most other participants in the given year’s games, have a role.

It has been hard to write.

Many drafts with not just incomplete thoughts, but incomplete sentences, sit neglected in the queue right now.

In just this past week, I’ve been paying attention to Eliot Spitzer’s resignation from the office of governor in my home state; the security culture here in Washington as more CCTVs go up, as more allegations of three-letter agency abuses of power breaks (and with two false alarms in DC with an “airspace violation” and a bomb scare); and the state of independent media as Brian from Alive in Baghdad visited (he came to town to contribute material to IVAW’s “Winter Soldier” summit) and I host a Brazilian Indymedia filmmaker in my apartment today.

We’re also approaching the fifth anniversary of the Bush administration’s invasion of Iraq. When the news broke 5 years ago, I was in downtown DC that night, and ran out of the Metro back to my internship at the Institute for Public Accuracy.

I have been able to take photographs. That’s been easier and more natural. I don’t share them all, but some. The most significant ones this week are of a tragedy in my neighborhood. A large apartment building, a home to mostly immigrant tenants went up in flames. Allegations of neglect by a landlord eager to convert to condos are swirling about, and don’t seem far-fetched. Whatever the cause and contributing factors, about 200 people (maybe many more) are without a home.

Mostly fond and polite remembrances were aired across the media.

But in an often included common clip, which I heard it on NPR and others heard or saw elsewhere, was an excerpt from a debate between Buckley and Noam Chomsky on Buckley’s Firing Line program.

Chomsky’s voice, and voices of those who share overlapping views in their analysis of United State government policies and actions, are simply rarely heard in Western public and commercial news media today. But plenty of Buckley’s intellectual progeny are on the air all the time.

There are many instances of marginal progress to be cited in the United States and around the world. We’ve inched forward in many ways in the past half-decade or so. But in the sense of diverse, open debate on the media most people have the most access to we have reverted.

I’m not ignoring the potential and the great examples that can be found, usually after hunting, on the Internet in that statement. It’s my understanding that most working class people get their news from radio and television still, and media access and media content does not usually speak directly to “them” (I say them, I might say us — but I’ve probably broken out of any sociologists definition of the classes).