“Everyone has a view of what the bohemian is,” says [writer Virginia] Nicholson. “The bohemian is an outsider, defines themselves as an outsider and is defined by the world as an outsider… A lot of people regard them as subversive, elitist and possibly just a little bit immature.”
In other words, they are less likely to follow tradition and may express an ability or a want to live beyond the confines of localized control. That could be seen as immature if a viewer associates the ability to easily change and adapt around standards to a lack of maturity. The OED is also quoted. It emphasizes a male identity and uses the terms “irregular” and “vagabond” instead of “immature”, which reveal that the terms to emphasize an outsider may be dated.
The Oxford English Dictionary’s definition mentions someone “especially an artist, literary man, or actor, who leads a free, vagabond, or irregular life, not being particular as to the society he frequents, and despising conventionalities generally”.
…Reagan entered office and…rich were now on tax vacation, at the expense of the poor and middle class.
[…]
…the people at our economy’s core – the full-time workers earning between $20,000 and $150,000 a year – still pay at up to double the rate of the ultra-wealthy, relative to what history suggests they should.
About this, I’ve got mixed feelings. More than a few of my friends have hit the dot-com-Web-2.0 jackpot, and every spring, they enjoy a fresh tax windfall. And why not?
[…]
On the other hand, so that the American Dream doesn’t degenerate further into a have-or-have-not nightmare, perhaps some social pragmatism is in order. Via a small dose of fiscal self-sacrifice, the fat cats can maintain their grip on the reins. Or, they can stay the course – and keep on partying like it’s 1999 – until an angry mob bursts through the front door, drags them down to the town square, and lops their wealth off.
What I see in the graph is that those who make over $200,000 a year saw a sharp decline in tax in the 80s, which continues to today. There also is a blue blip for tax relief for those earning around $10,000, but that was gone by 1981. More red at the bottom of the chart would make more sense if the current deficit problem, or even critical infrastructure, is meant to be a shared burden.
A lack of constant color is the signal of inequality.
The government today thus leaves high income earners (blue on the right) with a lower share of taxes. While taxes are not high for most people today compared to prior levels, those who earn over $1 million now have the lowest burden of anyone relative to history. Those who earn $50,000 to $150,000 — the middle class — carry the highest burden.
The wave shape suggests to me that the middle class have been affected first by tax changes. It is a prediction wave. Their level of burden eventually spreads to higher and lower income levels…perhaps that’s what Stephen Von Worley meant by “until an angry mob”.
A documentary by BBC4 explores views of risk in terms of cultural clues and imagery. It interviews numerous experts to reveal the origins of The Great Wave off Kanagawa print, and shows how it has represented very different things to different people.
The Japanese viewer apparently sees groups of men set together in harmony with nature to achieve success — possibly a spring-time catch of bonito fish for a hard-working crew returning as quickly as possible to a market. The huge, towering wave is not an image of despair but of power and collective effort. Toshio Watanabe, a Japenese Art Historian, explains:
(1:14/10:04) “It’s depicting, basically, speedboats like DHL or FedEx.” […] (9:14/10:04) This is an image of courage and perseverance because the oarsmen have a job to do. “There are so many rowers because they need speed and they are not worried about the waves at all. They are taking it in great stride.”
Dr. David Peat, a Physicist at the Pari Center in Italy (among several others) suggests a very different effect for a viewer from the West. He sees the Great Wave as a moral lesson for an individual, which centers around mortality, anxiety and a fear of the unknown (based on chaos theory):
(5:40/8:25) It’s telling us something about being on the edge of chaos; something about how we live our lives. We have to have regularity and order. But if we have too much then we become dead. So it’s telling us where life lies. It’s telling us something about ourselves. We have to learn how to live on the edge of chaos.
Although it is easy to split the views and categorize them among Far East and Western views, following the BBC’s narrative, it could be split a different way. Those who live in and around water and on small boats may look at the Great Wave as familiar and controllable; while those who spend all their time on land may look at the wave with fear of the unknown — “surf’s up” versus “run”. Which are you?
The prosperity of cities and countryside of the late 1940s England, France, Italy, etc. benefited significantly from inexpensive and “off-grid” two-wheeled technology — these economies all were rebuilt on bicycles.
When I lived in London in the 1990s and studied post-WWII History, I regularly noticed this kind of footnote (pun not intended) on two-wheeled transportation for much of Europe.
My curiosity in European cycling might have been a bit biased, as I myself rode a bicycle everywhere and everyday (spinning through the dark rainy days along dirty double-decker red buses, black cabs and the anti-terror Ring of steel that obfuscated downtown London).
It wasn’t just a link with history. The math of cycling appealed to me: A car at that time would have taken at least 30 minutes plus parking time for me to go from home to the city. I could ride a bus for 45 minutes plus waiting, take the train for 30 minutes plus waiting, or… I could go door-to-door on a bike in just 20 minutes.
Besides saving money, the time I saved on a bicycle made the choice obvious (I have to admit I did not properly account for the pollution/health costs caused by lax vehicle emission laws).
Despite these simple calculations, I usually found at all times I was the only cyclist on any London roads.
It seemed odd to not see others on bikes especially since London had been through a period of extremely popular two-wheel transportation use in the past that had proved their value.
Take for example this video of the Cyclist Touring Club from Britain, which talks of “rediscovering common humanity” and “getting rid of our enemies” in the 1950s:
Another good example is the light scooter industry of Italy — a result of the war industry. While bicycles were obviously popular, after 1945 the prevalence of metal tubes (frame), wheels, tires and sheet metal manufacturing for Axis war planes was re-purposed into two-wheeled transportation. It all started with the single model motor scooter in 1946 by Piaggio & Co. SpA of Pontedera, Italy
I won’t go into why people moved away from these logical options for transportation and to the illogical gasoline automobile. Kunstler does a good job of that in The Geography of Nowhere. Instead, I want to point out here that the recent tsunami devastation in Japan is showing a sudden uptick in two-wheeled commuters.
Bicycles sold like hotcakes at supermarkets and bike shops after Friday’s megaquake shut down train services in the Tokyo metropolitan area, attracting local residents — and people from farther afield — who wanted to cycle home instead of facing the prospect of walking for several hours.
Disaster planners should not underestimate the importance and resilience of two-wheel transportation (and power generation), especially given recent advances in motorcycle ambulances in Africa that greatly reduce mortality rates.
WWI cycle engineering eerily still seems modern in concept
A bicycle ride to a data center, office or even a hospital might seem ridiculous until you take a good look at these disasters and factor transportation dependencies. The next days and weeks unfortunately will illustrate the automobile infrastructure weakness as well as how gasoline hoarding by automobile owners can negatively impact recovery.
The growth of automobiles always has been based on questionable assumptions about the government’s ability to collect taxes in order to protect and provide smooth highways, right-of-way, and inexpensive fuel. A national disaster puts these assumptions in a very different light. It shifts the economic playing field and puts the automobile back into its more natural disadvantaged state.
The biggest irony of this all, perhaps, is how often I find avowed libertarians driving exactly the kind of inefficient cars that depend heavily on the commonality of infrastructure and centralized services — only after a national disaster do they realize that a gas-guzzling shiny and fragile “success-mobile” is the ultimate sign of their unsustainable yet socialist tendencies.
a blog about the poetry of information security, since 1995
