never remember

With amazing stamina, the New York Times’ Opinion column has assiduously documented, sourced and fact-checked every lie that Dear Leader has uttered since the inauguration on 21 January up to the present. This does not include the false narratives of his campaign or the alternative truths of his staff and surrogates and aims to counter that complicity of numbness and exhaustion when it comes to this assault on reality that is by no measure normal and has inspired a million marchers in protest.

state of the union

Though likely pointed out ad infinitum elsewhere, the Queen’s Speech (or rather a speech from the throne) that is the State Opening of Parliament this year was a slightly more subdued affair this year as compared to years past. While much of the ceremonial pomp and circumstance was retained for the occasion—many traditions that go back to the sixteenth century, like the symbolic searching of the cellars, taking hostages, the procession of the peers, etc.—Her Majesty herself choose a car rather than a carriage for means of conveyance to Westminster and choose to leave the crown to a valet rather than wear it.
This last occurred in 1974—a year with two snap elections and a coalition of chaos.  Instead the Queen opted, provocatively, to dress as the European Union flag whilst Castle Mayskull listened politely.

media blackout

Dear Leader has banned cameras from the increasingly infrequent and evasive White House press briefings, and in response one major news outlet brought on veteran court room sketch artist (see more about the profession that may be seeing a revival here) William J Hennessy Jr to limn the atmosphere that signals a significant departure from the level of access and transparency that previous administrations afforded to journalists. Apparently some Republican lawmakers though the network’s “stunt” but the artist, toughened by covering the Iran-Contra Affair, Bill Clinton impeachment process, terror trials and hearings for Guantanamo Bay inmates can surely take some clasping at pearls by the rank and file.

undisclosed location or habeas corpus

NPR’s Fresh Air featured a really engaging and frankly terrifying interview that explored the various contingency plans for the continuity of the US government in the event of a nuclear attack or other catastrophic event through the lens of bureaucracy and bunkers.
Optimistically first codified in the 1940s at a time before run-away proliferation when nuclear capabilities did seem survivable due to delivery methods and potency of the arsenal, the government seemed to want to keep up the pretence that such doomsday forecasts would still hold as to contemplate otherwise was unthinkable—believing that the person who had the sole, unilateral authority to choose how to respond would be the sagest and most introspective of Americans. Despite the level of detail and deputising involved in these plans and places of refuge, all of it seemed geared toward the goal of supporting some cult of personality that could sustain survivors through to a national reconstitution that would take hold at some calculated juncture in the not too distant future. There were quite a few engrossing details and descriptions to latch on to, like how the emergency cash reserves of the US are in large part denominated in the unpopular two-dollar bill and the order of precedence when it comes to safeguarding national treasures like the original bill of rights or the constitution, but what struck me as most surprising was that there was (and assuredly is—in some form) the equivalent of the Nuclear Football was at the disposal of the US attorney general. Like the president’s entourage, an aide would accompany America’s top lawyer at all times with a briefcase full of writs and warrants signature-ready to curtail civil liberties and confine the troublesome.

apiary or cargo cult

Revealed in a patent application disclosed recently, a major online retailer is aiming to install multi-level, vertical “fulfilment centres” in urban environments. Instead of the traditional warehouse model, which may be located close to transportation hubs are too far removed from consumers and workers, giving aerial delivery drones a hive (this traditional beehive form is called a skep and were fashioned out of wicker or coils of straw) to work from could facilitate commerce without contributing to street level congestion. I wonder how these changes in infrastructure and supply-chain management will affect urban planning and civil engineering.