the people in my neighbourhood

Ran. Saw owl. Thought about how delighted I am by predators – bobcat in Marin – coyotes in Orinda and Portola Valley – nature’s proof that an ecosystem is generating surplus. Thought about post-scarcity economies. I met Boy Shannon on the J-Church yesterday and we spent the ride vehemently agreeing about things, as is our wont. He made a very shrewd point about the miracle of the loaves and the fishes being a metaphor for post-scarcity.

At the top of Prentiss Street I (literally) ran into Coach Charlotte and the Workout on the Hill; I felt a bit self-conscious, wondering how she would react to my freelance exercise regime. She was thrilled and held me up as an example to the grunts.

On BART I bumped into Jeff Wishnie, polymath: old Burning Man friend, tech entrepreneur, paragliding instructor and now CTO of Inveneo, building Wifi in northern Uganda. He told me about the huge gulf between the almost-modern capital city Kampala and the refugee camps. Darfur, I guessed? Well, no, not even refugees (he corrected himself) but internally displaced persons, IDPs, which is actually worse. They’d be better off if they had managed to cross an international border. These people are actually the victims of insane religious zealot Joseph Kony and the Lord’s Resistance Army, which kidnaps and brainwashes children.

Got off the train, bought coffee and a pastry, walked to work under the ridiculous abundance of sunshine and sharply defined buildings in the clear drinkable air that is San Francisco at this time of year, wondered what the world would be like if everyone had enough to eat and people felt basically okay. Thought about post-scarcity economies. Thought about my kids.

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