Whistle Stop: Coda (Itinerary for Days 1-25)

As I dust off this blog for my upcoming train trip around Europe, I discovered half a dozen never-published posts from my Amtrak train trip around the United States three years ago.  I’ve now collected these half-written posts into two posts detailing my itinerary for that trip, which has made for a wonderful trip down memory lane.  While a lot of the itinerary is personal to me, I also make a special effort to include useful information such as the time frame for activities, my hostel experiences, and transportation options for the benefit of those trying to plan their own trips to these regions.

That six-week trip — which turned out to be one of the most amazing experiences of my life — took me through seven national parks and seven major cities: NYC –> Toronto –> Niagara Falls –> Chicago –> Glasgow, Montana –> Glacier National Park, Montana –> Seattle, Washington –> Olympic National Park, Washington –> Crater Lake, Oregon –> Lassen Volcanic National Park, California –> San Francisco –> Los Angeles –> Grand Canyon / Flagstaff / Petrified Forest / Painted Desert, Arizona –> Independence / Kansas City, Missouri –> St. Louis, Missouri –> Chicago –> NYC.

Day 1 (Thursday, Sept. 6):  I kicked off my trip by taking a super-cheap Megabus out of NYC around noon.  (The Amtrak USA Rail Pass doesn’t cover Canadian segments of Amtrak train routes).  After eleven surprisingly painless hours, I arrived in TORONTO.  I’d been to Toronto before, so this visit was less sight-seeing and more friend-seeing.

Day 2 (Friday, Sept. 7):  My friends and I spent the day walking around downtown Toronto, including St. Lawrence Market (once named the world’s best food market by National Geographic in April 2012 — the Montreal bagels and Peameal Bacon sandwich are must-tries!).  [Note: Closed on Mondays.]  We then took the ferry ($7 RT, 15 mins one-way) out to the Toronto Islands, which afforded great views of the city skyline.  For more on Toronto, see my previous post.

Day 3 (Saturday, Sept. 8):  We visited Pacific Mall, located in neighboring Markham, Ontario, which holds the distinction of being the largest indoor Asian mall in North America.  While I wouldn’t go out of my way to visit this mall, it could be a good rainy day activity if you like Asian food.

Day 4 (Sunday, Sept. 9): On the way to NIAGARA FALLS, we stopped by some wineries on the Niagara Peninsula (or Niagara-on-the-Lake). We reached Niagara Falls State Park (U.S. side, $10 state park entrance fee for vehicles) at around 3 p.m., where we did the Cave of the Winds tour, which fits you with a poncho and lets you walk right up to Bridal Veil Falls.  Following the Cave of the Winds, we enjoyed an evening stroll around Goat Island along the illuminated rapids. I boarded my first Amtrak train at BUFFALO Depew station at 11:59 p.m. for Chicago. For more, see my previous post.

Day 5 (Monday, Sept. 10): After arriving in CHICAGO a little before noon (on the first day of the Chicago teachers’ strike, incidentally), I walked from Union Station to Chicago Hostelling International to drop off my stuff. The hostel was only $33/night and, for my first hostel, exceeded expectations — it’s very professionally-run and secure, with 3-4 levels of swipe access required to access your room; the staff was extremely friendly and provided invaluable tips on exploring the city.  I spent the entire day on foot, hitting up Buckingham Fountain (much better at night though!), Millennium Park, and the Loop area (architectural landmarks at every turn — pick up a guide first!).  I had a an early Chicago deep-dish pizza dinner at Giordano’s before walking across the Michigan Avenue Bridge to see the Centennial Fountain (nothing special, but the riverside walk was nice), Chicago Tribune Building (its facade contains pieces of famous structures from all over the world, e.g., the Great Wall of China, Hagia Sofia, Berlin Wall, etc.), the Magnificent Mile (Fifth Avenue equivalent), and finally John Hancock Tower for the sunset (tip: skip the pricey observation deck and go straight to the Signature Room to enjoy the same view over a drink).  After nightfall, I lounged around Cloud Gate (the Bean), watching security guards zoom around on segways.  For more, see my previous Chicago post.

Day 6 (Tuesday, Sept. 11): I spent the morning at the Art Institute (the setting for one of my favorite movie montages and home to one of my favorite paintings, Nighthawks) then headed across the street to the Chicago Cultural Center.  [Tip: Visit this first!  It’s both informative for tourists and a beautiful attraction in its own right.]   Then I took the Metra (which I’m told is preferable to the Green Line, safety-wise) down to the University of Chicago to see the campus and Frank Lloyd Wright’s Robie House.  At night, I enjoyed a Chicago-style hot dog at Portillo’s and walked down La Salle Street (which ends with the Chicago Board of Trade building) while recalling the Dark Knight scene.  I ended the day by admiring the Chicago skyline from Buckingham fountain, where I was treated to light shows accompanied by cheesy renditions of patriotic songs on the hour.  At around 10 p.m., a crowd of Chicago teachers swarmed the fountain in protest. I wandered the Lake Michigan waterfront area for a bit before calling it a night.

Day 7 (Wednesday, Sept. 12):  To kill time before my early afternoon train, and at the suggestion of one hostel staff member, I rode the Brown Line ‘L’ train from Adams/Wabash to Armitage for a view of the city and back again. The round-trip took a little less than an hour. [Tip: Ride in the last car so you can look out the back window.]  I departed Chicago Union Station at around 2 p.m. on the Empire Builder line for Glasgow, Montana.  This was my first major train ride of the trip: a whopping 24 hours from Chicago to Glasgow, a small town of 3800 in eastern Montana where my cousin lives. I passed the time chatting with Mennonites and other rail riders.

Day 8 (Thursday, Sept. 13):  I arrived in GLASGOW, MT around noon, where my cousin picked me up.  One thing that struck me immediately about Montana: everyone has so so much land.  And horses.  Everyone has horses.  My cousin took me to the pastures where her family keeps their two horses — left behind by a family that had moved a few years back.  After spending over an hour tracking the horses down on the land, I rode the tamer one bareback while my cousin led me around.  She also took me down to Milk River, named by Lewis and Clark, who followed it for a portion of their journey.  For dinner, I had wild elk that my cousin’s husband shot last year. .

Day 9 (Friday, Sept. 14):  My cousin’s husband, a professional hunter and writer, took me out for an abbreviated round of dove-hunting in the morning (the only kind of hunting permitted in mid-September; only bow-and-arrow hunting was allowed for everything else).  No luck finding any doves, but I shot at cans with a .14 caliber rifle.  We then visited Fort Peck museum, where I learned about the trove of dinosaur fossil discoveries in Montana (home of the Tyrannosaurus Rex) and the Depression-era PWA construction of the Fort Peck Dam to channel the Missouri River.

Day 10 (Saturday, Sept. 15):  I departed Glasgow at noon for Glacier National Park, located in the western part of Montana and part of the Rocky Mountains.  The trip was eight hours.  I arrived at the WEST GLACIER stop (the western entrance to Glacier National Park) at around 9 p.m.  Montana is more or less flat, open space up until the Rocky Mountains, which shoot up out of nowhere.  Aboard the Empire Builder, I enjoyed commentary from a Trails & Rails volunteer about Glacier National Park.  The railroad and Glacier National Park share an intertwined history, with Glacier marketed by the railroad as the “American Alps” and also advanced for national park status by the railroad.

Day 11 (Sunday, Sept. 16): I took the eight-hour Crown of the Continent” Red Bus tour, which starts at West Glacier, traverses the entire length of the famously scenic Going-to-the-Sun Road (featured in the opening scene for The Shining and Forrest Gump’s run across America) and loops back around.  Glacier National Park was actually the reason I moved my trip up by two weeks, as Sept. 16 marked the last day that all of Going-to-the-Sun Road was open.  [Tip: Check on the accessibility of Going-to-the-Sun Road — and all national parks in general — before you visit.  One thing I learned on this trip was that most national parks are essentially only open in their entirety for three months of the year — mid-June to mid-September — due to snow.]

As with the railroad, the Red Bus company, which dates back to 1938, has a long and storied history intertwined with the park’s.  I enjoyed the tour very much and would highly recommend it, as I imagine it would be difficult to drive the winding mountain roads and appreciate the views at the same time.  After enjoying a slice of huckleberry pie with huckleberry soda (huckleberry is the big thing here), I departed at 11 p.m. for Seattle.

Day 12 (Monday, Sept. 17):  I woke up when my train was deep in the Cascades.  After reaching the coast, the train followed Puget Sound all the way down to Seattle.  Shortly after arriving in Seattle, I took the Olympic Bus Dungeness Line — the only transportation to the Olympic Peninsula that I could find ($69 RT, 3.5h) — to PORT ANGELES.  I arrive in Port Angeles at around 4:30 p.m., rent a car, check into my Super 8 motel, and drive up to Hurricane Ridge (a 17-mile, mountainous drive for a stunning vista of the mountains) just in time for the sunset.

Day 13 (Tuesday, Sept. 18):  I wake up early and manage to hit up Lake Crescent (where I do the popular and short Marymere Falls hike), the Sol Duc Falls hike, Hoh Rain Forest (Hall of Mosses Trail), and the First Beach at La Push (the westernmost point of the contiguous U.S. — a classic Pacific Northwest beach complete with driftwood, fog, and rock outcroppings) all in the same day.  The Hoh Rain Forest — a primeval rainforest — was my favorite part of the Olympic Peninsula.  I check into a Forks motel for the night (see previous post on Forks).

Day 14 (Wednesday, Sept. 19):  In the early afternoon, I boarded a bus back to Seattle from Port Angeles.  After checking into the Seattle Hostelling International, I took the Bainbridge ferry out and back for sunset views of the city.

Day 15 (Thursday, Sept. 20):  From my hostel, I walked to the Seattle Public LibraryPike Place Market, Olympic Sculpture Park (great view of the Space Needle), and the Seattle Center (where the Space Needle is).  From the Seattle Center, I walked uphill to Kerry Park for a magnificent view of the Seattle skyline.  After that, I took the Seattle Monorail back to downtown Seattle and my hostel.

Day 16 (Friday, Sept. 21): I took an early morning train out of Seattle for KLAMATH FALLS, OREGON, the closest Amtrak station to Crater Lake National Park.  Two Trails & Rails volunteers between Seattle and Portland talk about Mount St. Helens and the Cascades mountain range.  I arrived in Klamath Falls at 10 p.m. and checked into Maverick Motel, a 7-min walk from the station.

Day 17 (Saturday, Sept. 22):  I took the 9:30 a.m. shuttle provided by Crater Lake Trolley up to Crater Lake ($25, boarding from the Amtrak station).  Once there, I decided to do the two-hour Crater Lake Trolley ranger-guided Rim Drive tour as well (another $25).  After the Rim Drive, I hiked Garfield’s Peak, an easy trail that alternated between stunning views of the lake and of the Cascades (highly recommend!).  At 10 p.m., I departed Klamath Falls via Amtrak for REDDING, CA, where I would meet up with a friend to explore Lassen Volcanic National Park.

Day 18 (Sunday, Sept. 23):  I arrived in REDDING at 3 a.m. and walked 7 minutes to Thunderbird Lodge to join my friend.  In the morning, we took a quick detour to see Calatrava’s Sundial Bridge (the most notable attraction in Redding). Then we made our way to Lassen, where we first hiked Lassen Peak before going down to Bumpass Hell for geothermic activity.  We ended up stargazing in the parking lot to Bumpass Hell before heading to a hotel in Chico.

Day 19 (Monday, Sept. 24):  We stopped by Sacramento on the way to San Francisco, where we wandered around Old Sacramento and toured the State Capitol building.  We arrived in San Francisco in the early evening.

Days 20-25 (Tuesday, Sept. 25 to Sunday, Sept. 30):  I spent the week in San Francisco with friends.  This was my halfway recharge point.

Part 2 coming shortly…


Not My Liberal Values


This post is the second in a conversation I hope to engage in here at Stone Soup regarding the so-called “free speech crisis,” allegedly conducted by “leftists,” currently underway in America (and more specifically, the internet). My last post can be found here, and some issues raised in today’s piece refers back to that one; more importantly, today’s responds to an article by Conor Friedersdorf in The Atlantic entitled, “Mozilla’s Gay-Marriage Litmus Test Violates Liberal Values.” Again, reading the article is not necessary for moving on to my comments, but it helps.

Today we gather to weep for the martyrdom of an ex-CEO who donated $1,000 to ensuring marriage rights were stripped from a class of people.

But first, Atlantic staffer Conor Friedersdorf wants you to know just how much he supports same-sex marriage. Like, totally one hundred percent “I have a gay friend I swear to god” supports same-sex marriage. He says that in 2008 he “spent more time arguing in favor of gay marriage than any other issue.” He details how he, as a right-leaning moderate (read: conservative), tried to convince conservatives and coworkers about the merits of same sex marriage. Conor Friedersdorf loves same-sex marriage, and don’t you dare think otherwise.

But still, Conor Friedersdorf is not in favor of public pressure to force Brendan Eich, the father of JavaScript and one time donator of $1,000 to Proposition 8, to step down from his position as CEO of Mozilla. Friedersdorf’s title says that this activism “violates liberal values,” and, I’m blushing here, because, oh Conor, how did you know much I like liberal values? They’re like pretty much my favorite type of values (don’t even get my started on neoliberal values or I’ll begin to sweat).

Conor’s first argument is that a majority of Californians at the time, as well as Barack Obama, believed that “gay marriage ought to be illegal.” Here we have to already split hairs. Barack Obama has always been fuzzy with his support on same sex marriage rights, but he was openly against Proposition 8, despite his lack of support for same-sex marriage. You can call it a contradiction in terms, but you you can’t just say, “If you wanna fire Eich, you gotta get rid of Obama too!” Not going to work, Conor, but good call on knowing how much your average liberal reader loves Obama. He’s like the best.

Friedersdorf then writes that if we are to live in a society where people’s professional lives are also affected by the things they do in private, “it will damage our society.”

And so here’s the thing that upsets me: what Eich did was not some political gesturing or belief held only in his mind that had no ramifications. Nor did he not intend for his actions to have consequences (since motive has become a predominant neoliberal concern in discussions of homophobia/sexism/racism). He purposefully donated to an anti-gay campaign, which succeeded. People’s rights were taken away, overnight, in small (but non-zero) part due to action that Eich intended and hoped would come true. How is it that once he becomes CEO of a popular company, a position that is tantamount to holding office in terms of the power, respect and prestige we have for corporate America, we can just ignore that fact? And it wasn’t just holier-than-thou leftists clamoring for Eich’s resignation; it was Mozilla employees themselves who said they did not feel comfortable with a boss who financially contributed to the stripping away of their rights.

But according to Friedersdorf, what’s done is done, so no use crying over spilled milk. He writes: “Proposition 8 was overturned. Gay marriage is legal in California. Having a CEO who opposed gay marriage now would in no way diminish equal marriage rights for gays.” You hear that, same-sex marriage proponents? Demonstrating to anti-marriage activists that if they try to act against equal rights there will be consequences would, according to Friedersdorf, in no way diminish the cause. Move on, nothing to see here.

Except for Friedersdorf, the real fear is in the slippery slope. You liberals might think you’ve got the bull by the horns now, but what about when unpopular opinions are thrown back at you and your for-profit, private sector job (that is where everybody works anyway)? Friedersdorf asks, “Would American society be better off if stakeholders in various corporations began to investigate leadership’s political activities on abortion and to lobby for the termination of anyone who took what they regard to be the immoral, damaging position?” Ooooh he’s got you there, liberals. Conor knows you like abortion, but what if you work for an advertising firm in Oklahoma and one day your political beliefs are revealed?

I’d say that that’s when we can begin the actual martyrdom, but I’m not persuaded it’s going to happen. Because by analogizing to abortion, Friedersdorf is using pundit speak to label both it and same-sex marriage as Divisive and Contentious Issues, and continuing with Lovett’s point from earlier, asking, hey, can’t we all can just agree to disagree about these issues? I mean, do we really live in a country where simply holding a contrarian belief means you’re fired from your job, your livelihood taken away?

No, not really. To ask for people to agree to disagree is to ask for the dominant political voice to win outright. Just because people disagree about abortion and same-sex marriage doesn’t mean (again going back to triangulation) that the two sides are both equal. Opposing same-sex marriage is bigoted, and we need to live in a society where people are held responsible for their bigoted actions. Because remember, Eich did not simply hold a private belief, at which point I would agree that forcing his resignation would be inappropriate.

But that’s probably why, after this article was written, Friedersdorf wrote articles entitled, “Why Gay-Marriage Opponents Should Not Be Treated Like Racists” and “A 23-Year-Old Gay-Marriage Opponent Explains Herself.” You see, this is why Friedersdorf opened his piece trying to convince you, dear reader, why he was so definitely one hundred percent not even a second thought in favor of same-sex marriage: because he really likes defending those against same-sex marriage. Friedersdorf writes in the first of his secondary pieces: “Opposition to gay marriage can be rooted in the insidious belief that gays are inferior, but it’s also commonly rooted in the much-less-problematic belief that marriage is a procreative institution, not meant to join couples for love and companionship alone.”

Oh my god. Really? “Much-less-problematic?” That’s the best you can come up with, a nicer-sounding rewording of the typical ludicrous right-wing argument that gays can’t make babies? The argument that ignores the infertile, ignores the elderly, ignores the fact that gays can adopt except when the same people who think marriage is there to raise babies pass laws saying gay couples can’t raise babies?

Conor, I’m starting to think that your essay should’ve been about why firing Eich violated conservative principles, not liberal ones.

In his other secondary essay, Friedersdorf trumps out a 23-year-old Christian woman who explains why she is against same-sex marriage. Friedersdorf asks, “[S]hould society stigmatize this young woman as a bigot and punish her professionally for the mix of attitudes and beliefs expressed above?” Well, let’s see, Conor. Is she a CEO, a position that requires much more responsibility and public spotlight? Did she use her time and/or resources to make sure gay people cannot marry? If both of those, then yes, her too! But besides Friedersdorf’s attempt to infantilize the anti-gay advocate (“c’mon guys, she’s a young Christian girl! Lay off her!”), her positions are really goddamn offensive:

“I believe that God, who created all people, has His own intention for what marriage is supposed to be. I believe He deliberately created two inherently different, non-interchangeable types of humans so that each one could permanently join and start a family. In both Testaments, the Bible mentions that homosexual behavior is a sin…The reality is that I am trying to show others God’s picture.”

Okay, you can rationalize being against same-sex marriage as being part of God’s will (not to mention how transphobic this point of view is), but guess what, Friedersdorf and anonymous, victimized Christian woman? I can also call you bigoted, and I don’t care much if you like it or not. And I can push for you to get fired as CEO once you try to take away rights of Americans, because I also have a voice.

So here’s where I get angry. Friedersdorf says that those who called for Eich to get fired “should face and own up to the fact that they helped force out a CEO solely because he disagreed with them about same-sex marriage.” No Conor, it was not about disagreement; it was about action. Eich was actively contributing to discrimination against gays. And here’s where it gets very serious, and this may seem like strong language but I believe it with all my heart: Brendan Eich was harming the bodies of LGBTQ Americans. He was acting violently, and it’s not intolerant for a group to defend itself. It was a courageous form of defiance, and I’m proud of them for succeeding.

And so here’s where I’d like to end things on both Lovett and Friedersdorf: when both of you speak, political disagreements sound innocuous and without consequence. Maybe it’s because you are both white, cisgendered, heterosexual males (as am I, mind you). But there are real consequences from the actions of others, whether it’s giving a thousand dollars to strip rights away or using racist language in public. Every day, people from marginalized groups suffer, tremendously, for the transgressions of Polite America, which refuses to acknowledge or even consider that one side of the argument could be bigoted, no matter the lengths to which that side goes to hurt the other side. By reframing active discrimination as just another political talking point, you are euphemizing atrocities.

I do not weep for Stephen Colbert or Brendan Eich. They will be just fine. I do worry that neoliberal triangulation will water down, or shut down, dissenting voices. I do worry, deeply, that discriminated-against groups will continue to live in pain, and when they scream for mercy from the pits of hell, the response from on high will be, “Please stop yelling, we’re trying to discuss the level of your pain up here.”

Wait, Who Should Be Shutting Up Here?

We have, according to many social commentators, a free speech crisis on our hands. In the wake of Suey Park’s #CancelColbert campaign and the resignation of Brendan Eich as CEO of Mozilla, numerous articles have been written about why it’s not okay to belittle somebody’s right to express themselves. I don’t want to oversimplify the argument, but this classical liberal narrative goes something like this: “America is a wonderful melting pot of diverse ideas where, through healthy discussion and input from all different sectors, we both teach and learn from one another. Sometimes this joint effort requires detested opinions to be broadcast, and although many of us sensible folk agree that these opinions are not always appropriate, we must respect their right to be aired in spite of the unpopularity.” I have some minor grievances with this line of thinking, but like most people I find it to be pretty persuasive. My problem as of late has been that many liberal to moderate pundits seem to be contradicting themselves in their rush to hate the hatred of hate. I hope to produce a series of posts here on Stone Soup that details the quote-unquote illiberal side of the argument. Tonight we begin with an article by Jon Lovett in The Atlantic entitled, “The Culture of Shut Up.” I advise reading it before going onto my comments, but it’s not required.

You can tell why Jon Lovett was able to leave the White House, where he was a speechwriter for President Obama, and transition straight to the world of sitcom writing. “The Culture of Shut Up” is supposed to come off as cutesy but serious, seamlessly blending pop culture references with serious political issues in a way that endears Lovett to the reader. Lovett starts out by telling a story about a remote village where only three elders had the ability to speak. These elders represent the traditionally dominant political class made up of politicians and the media who long ago monopolized societal discourse. Eventually other villagers realized that they too could have their opinions heard—in print, on rocks (i.e. the internet). And so although the rock speech was messy and often devolved into finger pointing, it still served as an important check on the three elders. But now the rock speech is in trouble, and the elders might be on their way back.

If it weren’t for the self-mocking witticisms and Mad Men references, this article would be indistinguishable from a Tom Friedman op-ed (which is not a good thing). Lovett uses drowning imagery three separate times when referring to how much speech there is nowadays: “We are drowning in information…I don’t want those voices to drown out the diverse and compelling voices…[I]f we can live with the noise, even embrace the noise, without trying to drown each other out.” You get the idea. There’s so much shit on the internet that productive discourse is nearly impossible.

But what’s all this speech that’s drowning us out? Lovett says (continuing the village story): “Soon there were really only two kinds of messages people would write—either vicious personal attacks, or self-righteous calls for apology—until eventually the villagers, angry and exhausted and sick of the noise and rancor just started pelting each other with rocks…and turned back toward the smug and satisfied village elders who were just waiting for their chance to regain supremacy—just waiting for the moment when the villagers would come crawling back…desperate for the reassuring simplicity of the old order, the establishment, of the way things used to be.” Lovett is warning us that if we don’t become more civil in our online discourse, the great social experiment that is the internet will be deemed a failure by the powers that be and we will be right back to having no voice at all.

And so but here’s where I start to lose Lovett, because as much as I don’t like the elders being the only voice in society, I also don’t like a watered down rock system where voices that challenge authority are suppressed. But wait, this article is about how we have to stop telling each other to shut up or else bad things will happen, so Lovett and I agree!

But we don’t and here’s why. Lovett conflates two issues: 1) telling people to shut up and 2) vicious personal attacks/self-righteous calls for apology. I don’t think anyone wants to defend “vicious personal attacks” as being integral to the system; they can more or less go, and really even be banned outright, without much worry about institutional damage. But since when are “calls for apology” equivalent to telling other people to “shut up?”

Lovett’s interpretation of “shutting up” is as follows.

“Here’s a list of some other people who were told to shut up, off the top of my head:

The Chick-fil-A guy was told to shut up about gay people…

Paula Deen was told to shut up by everyone because her stuff was racist and crazy…

Stephen Colbert was told to shut up about satire, I think?

The Duck Dynasty guy was told to shut up about gay people…”

Those are pretty demonstrative of the rest of Lovett’s list: people said offensive things and were told to shut up.

Except that they weren’t. I find it interesting that responding to words you find offensive with collective action is tantamount to telling people to shut up, rather than notifying them that their words will not be taken lightly. Because what happens in Lovett’s account is that some people say offensive things and then other people, e.g. the Suey Parks and Mozilla employees and gay rights activists of the world, demanded that the parties now apparently responsible for policing speech in society, i.e. corporations, take action. And the ultimate irony is that these activists were told by many, quite literally by some and more vaguely by others like Lovett, to shut up. They were told they were not contributing to the dialogue, were being irrational, were distracting from Real Issues, did not (despite being writers) understand what satire was, were being racist themselves. I happened to agree with the motives of and means taken by these anti-racist movements; others did not. But the important thing here is that Lovett is asking for these “self-righteous calls for apology” to stop.

Why? He doesn’t engage with the substantive merits of the calls for apology, other than when he tries to be cute by saying Deen’s stuff was “racist and crazy” and Colbert was told to shut up about “satire” (when really he was criticized for using racist language while satirizing, which is way different). But Lovett seems to be concerned that this “bubble of subprime outrage and subprime apologies” (I told you he was clever) leaves us with a constantly boring cycle of outrage that is then capitalized upon by the sensationalist media.

But Lovett is falling into classic triangulation: “you people demanding apologies are wrong because the people hurling insults at you are wrong and since the whole thing is bad overall, both sides are bad and need to be put down.” Maybe that’s true; I don’t think it is, namely because if these rocks are important instrumentally in any way I hope it’s to allow marginalized groups a platform to point out discrimination and biases against them, so saying that a gay Mozilla employee who feels uncomfortable with their boss is doing nothing more than shouting “shut up” by publicly announcing his or her discomfort, you’re completely undermining the activism that has actually been pretty successful recently. But even if Lovett’s reformulated triangulation were correct, even if we need to end the cycle once and for all for the sake of humanity or whatever, he’s completely wrong to say that in this story the ones who are so-called “outraged” are the ones who are yelling, or devaluing the conversation. Because unless you want to tell me why the substance of their complaints are unmeritorious sans the “boring” responses from mean people and the media that inevitably result, I don’t see why these activists should stop doing what they’ve been doing so well. It sounds to me like you’re telling them to shut up.

So Lovett shifts the goalposts beautifully: by telling people that we have a Culture of Shut Up, he’s invoking the peaceful and respectful political discourse that many of us are constantly looking for, but he tells his audience that the ones responsible for our drowning in bullshit are the outraged minorities, who, ironically, need to shut up so that the cycle of outrage->vicious replies back->media coverage can be put to rest. What it seems like then is that the rocks aren’t working anyway, that the same “people in charge,” namely the media and neoliberal institutions responsible for deciding what conversations do and don’t gain traction, i.e. the elders, are still successful in suppressing dissent among the ranks via co-opting the social influence the rocks have. At that point, I’m really not sure if telling the “self-righteous” dissenters to stop taking action is all that much of an issue.

Next up: This terrible article

I’m Not Here to Tell You About Jesus

Do you think that God exists? If you had to choose, would you describe yourself as a believer, an atheist, or an agnostic? Now, the first thing I should flag about this question is that for most people it yields a firm answer. For thousands of years, erudite scholars have made argument after  argument on all sides of this question, but I bet that, whichever one of these options you choose, your choice is an unreserved one: you don’t tend to qualify it with “well, I could be totally wrong: there’s a lot on each side.”

Now maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way, and actually agnosticism is just the box to check for “there’s a lot on both sides.” But I think agnostic means a bit more than that: it’s a term that describes a range of people running from atheists-in-sheep’s-clothing to those who think it is truly an unknowable question and either side could be equally right. In my personal experience I tend to find more of the former than the latter, but your mileage may vary.

More importantly, though, is that the agnostic is not someone who is half a religious believer and half an atheist, she doesn’t just sit astride the midpoint of that spectrum. There is an entire type of religious experience the believer has access to that the agnostic forsakes. She doesn’t worship in temple on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and then stay home in disbelief the rest of the time*[1]: the act of worship is totally cut off by her self-designation. This is not because she has doubt – the religious believer also has doubt (indeed it’s the very crucible of faith). The agnostic’s doubt is different because it leads her to rationally designate herself as removed from the concept of God. And that is something a believer can never truly do. Continue reading

Whistle Stop: Train Culture

After tonight, I will have spent 146 hours of the past five weeks on a train. But though that may seem long and exhausting to some (not any more tiring than a road trip, I’d think), the unique culture of long-distance train travel has turned out to be one of my favorite parts of the overall experience of traveling the country. I thought I’d take a moment to share my experience with train travel here as I wait to board my final train of the trip: from Chicago Union Station to New York Penn Station. Incidentally, look for more updates in the upcoming week as I make up for the lack of blogging during the trip!

A guitarist entertains a small group of rail riders in the cafe.

One thing I learned very quickly was that on a train, everyone is family. People walk around in slippers, clutching stuffed animals, blankets, and pillows. Striking up long conversations with your neighbor is the norm rather than the exception (though if you don’t like your neighbor, you can always sit out the ride in the lounge car). “Where are you traveling to” and “where are you traveling from” are the standard opening questions when you make eye contact with someone. And everyone has a story.

There are several options for those wishing to mingle with passengers beyond their immediate seating area: head to the observation deck (the upper floor of the lounge car), the cafe (the lower floor of the lounge car), or make a meal reservation, where you’ll be seated at a table with strangers in the dining car if you’re traveling alone (though for a price — dinner options start at $15 and run to upwards of $25). Amtrak, in conjunction with the National Parks Service, also runs Trails and Rails during the summer, where volunteers come into the observation car to talk with passengers about the regions the train is passing through (I was able to catch these programs during the first half of my trip — for Glacier National Park, the Cascades, Puget Sound, and between Seattle and Portland — but by the time October rolled around, Trails and Rails had concluded for the season). Sleeping car passengers (those who get their own beds and showers) get additional opportunities to mingle with each other at Amtrak-hosted wine and cheese tastings and movie nights.

I learned to head to the observation car if I was in a talking mood.

Passengers also find ways to provide their own entertainment. Playing card games or board games on the observation deck of the lounge car is the most common. On the night that I was traveling from Glasgow, MT to West Glacier, MT, I hung around the lounge car after a Cup Noodles dinner (that and the hot dogs were the only two items I found palatable from the cafe) and watched Amish children run amok on the observation deck. On the lower level, a guitarist entertained song requests from a small group of rail riders. I left shortly after stumbling upon the impromptu live music scene to pack up all of my belongings in preparation for my 8:23 p.m. stop at West Glacier, MT. When I came back to the cafe, bags in tow, I was surprised to see one passenger beam at my return and raise his glass to me. I was able to stay for “Cover of the Rolling Stone” (Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show) and “I Will Always Love You” (Dolly Parton) before my stop came up, and it was with a tinge of regret that I left the merry scene to disembark the train.

Chris, a full-time paralegal who’s been moonlighting as a  Trails and Rails volunteer since 2006, talks about Glacier National Park.

A significant portion of rail riders are retirees, but there is also a surprising number of young people and of families with small children. And, as I’ve previously noted, Amish and Mennonites also comprise a significant portion of rail passengers (as air travel is forbidden to them, while cars, though technically permissible where they ride with an outsider driver, are discouraged). Trains tended to be surprisingly packed for the most part, and it was rare for me to get two seats to myself (though when I did for an overnight ride, I was grateful for the opportunity to sleep in a sprawled out position).

Of the dozens of people I chatted with on trains, a few have stayed with me: Ruby, a primary school teacher from Colorado who’s been battling breast cancer for three years and who was returning to Colorado after visiting her son and grandson in Riverside, CA; Paulie, a 24-year old from Missouri who’s worked part time as a bail bondsman, and with whom I chatted late into the night in the cafe car of the Southwest Chief, comparing notes on our different upbringings; Rick, a legally blind sailboat salesman who considers it a success when he manages to hide the fact of his blindness from people (I didn’t realize it myself until the very end of the conversation — and this was after the train derailment, mind you, when the scene was one of general chaos); the three Mennonite women from Lancaster County who were traveling to Wisconsin to see family; Sonnet, an Oregon law student with a passion for water rights who filled me in on the big water rights disputes in the U.S. today; Adam, a stressed 23-year old father of a two-year old relocating from NoCal to Springfield, Missouri in hopes of facing a better job market, whom I chatted with while balancing his toddler on my lap — quite conscious the whole time of the fact that he was younger than myself; and an Oneida woman and primary school teacher from St. Louis en route to the Wisconsin Indian reservation on which she grew up to get tested for throat cancer (the reservation would cover her costs). The stories I heard were both humbling and empowering, and I hope to talk more about the overall impact this trip has had on me in a later retrospective post.

Whistle Stop Update

Sorry for the long hiatus: too many legs of my trip have been without Internet, without my laptop power charger (which I inadvertently left at my Forks motel, but which has since been shipped back to me…and then lost again, see below), or simply completely packed.

But here’s a quick update on a major event today, which still has me a bit shook up: the Amtrak train I took today from Emeryville (SF Bay Area) to Bakersfield (where I was to board an Amtrak bus to LA) derailed near Fresno after being struck by a big rig. I am fortunately OK, and I’ll be sharing the experience in a future post. However, that post could take a while, as my current priority is tracking down my one piece of carry-on luggage, which contains ALL of my clothes and recharging equipment (camera, laptop, cell…).