Why can't man be in awe of anything?

Today, October 9, 2009, NASA bombed the moon so they could find water. Bad move. They might destabilize this fragile satellite, which some say is nearly hollow. The moon is a perfect sphere. Our ancestors worshiped the moon, named after the alchemical goddess Luna. The moon reflects for us the majesty of our existence, night by night. Bombing it is a desecration with grave unintended consequences.

On Sept. 27, 2003 the asteroid designated SQ222 passed within 54,700 miles of earth. It wasn’t detected until after it hurtled by and only then was it discovered that it was the closest known fly by of a life-ending asteroid. Some astronomers believe the moon’s gravitational pull had deflected SQ222, as it had deflected others for millions of years. This spawned a great deal of conjecture as to how important the moon is to human life. Most humans, however, hardly noticed. The incident was barely reported in the media. Then NASA decided to send a missile into it. This begs the question: can’t we be in awe of anything? Especially our own destruction? Is this some kind of a Cosmic Joke?

Caught between trines & transits

I felt a planetary pull like

a pin ball bouncing between

karma and gravity.

Just learned that life-ending debris

had sped by earth and we never saw

it – like a splitter cut fastball

thrown by Rivera to close out

the inning.

No wiser from our brush with

fate we continue on, gone badly wrong.

Our bakers don’t stay for long

when they visit the cookie dough.

Why don’t they

take us back to the factory to

modify the recipe?

We’ve been trying to leave

the planet ever since we

could stand, now we act

like we belonged here.

This planet will survive us puny

interlopers, even when it becomes

barren rock, albeit in a less pristine state

than when we found it.

We failed as the planet’s steward

because we grew tired of it.

Such is the life of an human

organism

made of little more

than space garbage.

Our prison is this planet if not

our skin. Inmates all of us

who suffer themselves then recycle

into organic compost, just so

much clay trying to trying to differentiate

from other corrosive bits of cosmic

sludge that we either

fuck, eat or kill.

And like the Mayans,

who never came back from lunch break,

all we will leave behind

is a calendar.

French Edition of Abruzzi Book Released

photo by Delma Godoy

A new book about the Duke of the Abruzzi, co-written by myself and co-author Mirella Tenderini, is the sixth international translation of the book since its release in Italy and the U.S. in 1997.

The release of Le duc des Aburzzes, gentleman explorateur by publisher Michel Guerin, comes on the 100th anniversary of the Duke's pioneering climb in the Karakoram Himalaya in 1909, when the Duke's expedition attempted K2, the second highest mountain in the world by a route now known as the Abruzzi route.

The book features many photographs by the acclaimed Vittorio Sella, whose work has inspired many climbers over the past century to climb in this spectacular region.

The biography is about the life of Luigi Amedeo di Savoia, the Duke of the Abruzzi, who came into prominence at the beginning of the last century. At the time, all the crowned heads of Europe and many political leaders in North America wondered why their countries could not produce someone as remarkable as the Duke.

He excelled in making many “firsts”, including the highest altitude mark that stood for many years. He made the first ascent of a mysterious mountain in Uganda, where he became the first to map the true source of the Nile. He reached the farthest north of any explorer to the North Pole in his time.

As a sportsman he popularized motor racing, sailboat racing and bicycle racing in Europe. As a private citizen he would popularize the tango in Europe, often in the company of many beautiful women. In North America and Europe he was well known for his romance with a beautiful American debutante, later described as “the most famous romance of its time”.

During World War I, as an admiral in the Italian Navy, he served with heroism and distinction. After the war, he would become a humanitarian and create a village in Somalia where the people could earn a living and sustain themselves. The village lasted until 1993 as the primary industry in Somalia and has served as a model for many progressive agriculture projects in Africa.

Get Out on the Dance Floor and Live It....

North Americans -- especially those of puritanical western European backgrounds -- are enslaved by emotions they've never understood.

Maybe we might try connecting to the human heart, where there is desire, then passion, suspicion, jealousy, anger, betrayal....

A simple approach to learning about our emotions might begin with a dance; the tango.

Cue the music and see if you don't feel like dancing.

The Girl From Ipanema

I grew up listening to this song. This winter I listened to it on many a dark, snowy day on my ipod, never thinking that one day a real girl from Ipanema would send me the lyrics and this classic video of the two original singers, Frank Sinatra and Tom Jobim. Obrigado, Delma, mon amor. Beijo, multos beijos.

Mondo Bongo

Tired of pundits. Of Twitter. Facebook. This song in the antidote. Reminds us of Jimmie Buffet. The Master of Everything is cool.

View of my birthplace

This is a shot by NASA from a satellite of my birthplace. Design by Amarie Bergman.

The Origin of the Original Me

This is an advertisement about origins, something I think about around birthdays, including the last one. Design by Amarie Bergman.

Freedom to create

This is a lovely video about being alive.

Yes We Can at Carnival !

Here is my nomination for best depiction of US president Obama on a body part, the thigh of Vivian Castro, a samba dancer in Rio di Janeiro during Carnival, 09 ! Long live Carnival!

A Brazilian friend invited me to dance Gotan (reverse of "tan-go") so I will, even though I am not in Rio. After all, it is Carnival !!!!!