- Walt Whitman, By Blue Ontario's Shore
He claims things are "good enough" now. But couldn't/wouldn't people have said that at any time in the past? And likewise would most people want to go back? If not, then presumably they should have been in favor of going forward. Sure, we've cured many diseases, but what if you get one of the diseases we haven't found a cure for. Where that cure may require nanotech or gene manipulation?
There's no question that the future may bring changes that take us so far from what we now are as to be unrecognizable. But is that necessarily bad? Going from stone age jungle villages to a modern city is a huge jump too. And some might argue, not a step forward. But the fact that it's a big jump doesn't necessarily make it "bad".
I read a lot of science fiction and it explores all kinds of possible futures, many of them strange and inhuman. But "bad"? I don't know. Is it possible to say in an absolute sense that one culture is better or worse than another? In a way this theme is also explored in Theroux's book below.
A squadron of pelicans crossed our bow, flying low to the waves and acting like a train of pelicans tied together, activated by one nervous system. For they flapped their powerful wings in unison, coasted in unison. It seemed that they tipped a wavetop with their wings now and then, and certainly they flew in the troughs of the waves to save themselves from the wind. They did not look around or change direction. Pelicans seem always to know exactly where they are going. A curious sea-lion came out to look us over, a tawny, crusty old fellow with rakish mustaches and the scars of battle on his shoulders. He crossed our bow too and turned and paralleled our course, trod water, and looked at us. Then, satisfied, he snorted and cut for shore and some sea-lion appointment. They always have them, it's just a matter of getting around to keeping them.Currently I'm in the middle of three books:
I have come to believe that architecture is so agonizingly disturbed because we - the architects of our time - are struggling with a conception of the world, a world-picture, that essentially makes it impossible to make buildings well. I believe this problem goes so deep that it even makes it extremely difficult to build the most modest, useful building in an ordinary way.
Many of us are not especially aware that our conception of things - our picture of the universe - could have any concrete or immediate effect on activity as architects. We go about our business trying our best to make good buildings - in whatever fashion we understand "good". The task is difficult. We struggle with it. But we are not aware, perhaps, that we have any special picture of the world.
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How could it possibly be true that this conception might interfere so deeply with our efforts as builders, that it makes it all but impossible to make a building well?
In case you're wondering how/why I keep that many books going at once - it's my normal procedure. Generally I only read one fiction book at a time, usually reserved for the hour or so before going to sleep. Then I like to have a couple of non-fiction books of different types so I can suit my reading to my mood. I've mostly been reading Alexander over breakfast, Theroux and Potts during the day, and Penney before sleep.
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