Glimmers & Grace

Maybe it’s good that the group chose “&” rather than “of.” Some weeks, it’s graceless glimmers of something, usually just beyond perception. Not sure that’s “grace.” My parents used to say, “Good thing we didn’t name you Grace,” whenever I’d trip or do something else remarkably klutzy. Better that half my friends mispronounce my name and make me sound far better than I really am. “Holy.” No, I’m not that good, I tell them. Most laugh. Some are delusional and insist that I am. It’s charming, really. It’s better than being called “Klutz.” Never argue when someone thinks you’re a saint. Just smile and adjust your halo. Bask in the glow. Wait – that’s not a halo, that’s my ring light.

Glimmers & Grace is meant to be “an uplifting monthly feature in which bloggers reflect on moments of joy and grace experienced (even amid challenges) in the past month.” I intend – oh, we know what’s paved with good intentions, don’t we? – I intend to use this as a nudge to blog at least once a month and a place to surprise myself with a recap on all the good things I’ve managed to experience and to do! (Which, frankly, is a lot, but I am so very, very bad at keeping a journal – and lately, not so great at posting here, either.) So, where was I? Oh, yes, mocking our AI overlords.

Look, we’re going to have much bigger problems than AI “stealing work and jobs from writers and artists.” As a really fast text prediction engine stuffed full of literature and internet garbage and trained on the syntax of language, AI can write a decent five-paragraph essay. Feed it a few incongruous ideas, and it can mimic creativity. But it’s all a party trick. If you want well-researched, interesting, human-sounding writing that doesn’t sound like it came from a straight-A student fresh out of Freshman Comp 101, hire a human. The same is true for AI image generators. Anything can combine pixels in interesting, even original ways. It takes a real artist to know that humans  don’t normally have seven toes and some weird appendage sprouting from their elbow. Copyright violation is still copyright violation, and if you want to claim copyright, you’d best write or create art yourself – because AI output doesn’t qualify for copyright protection, at this point. If you use text prediction features on your phone, I don’t even want to hear about AI “stealing” stuff. By the same logic, all human writers who ever read books and all artists who ever studied the works of other artists and tried to imitate them “stole stuff.”

My friend Mitch got the AI chatbots to admit they can’t write a double-acrostic poem and to finally explain in logical terms why not. tl;dr version: it would take more compute power than it’s worth – basically, it would cost more than all the poets since the dawn of time have earned, even under wealthy patrons. And also, it’s just damnably hard for what is basically a really fast, statistically based word prediction app.

So, poets, rejoice! Your work isn’t lucrative enough and it’s too hard – no AI is going to replace you. Sure, CatFarts can write entertaining doggerel and trite, sappy verse – watch out, Hallmark. But real poetry is safe, for now.

My poem, “Tornado Alley,” was included in Volume 7 of “Behind the Rain: An Audio Anthology of Oklahoma Poetry,” released on January 15. Much as I loathe the sound of my own voice, recorded, it’s not some robotic AI simulacrum of a woman reading it.

I’ve written 41 new poems for The Stafford Challenge – this is not counting several workshopped revisions later submitted to contests. Today is day 44, so if you do count the revisions, or if you count the 25+ Renga verses I’ve written in collaboration with Necia Campbell, who has also written 25+, I am not behind – I am ahead of schedule. One of these poems was a ballade. One was a sestina. Now, the villanelle has competition for “Worst @#$% Poetry Form Ever Invented,” but I ended up liking the final versions of both. A lot. Editing – and the grace and graciousness of fellow writers taking their time to give thoughtful, constructive feedback – matters. With that, and two others I’ve been working on for over a month, now, I had three entries in the National Federation of State Poetry Societies Annual Contests. So far, I’m up to nine for Poets Northwest’s Spring Fling Contests – and I still have almost two weeks left to write more.

Trust has a lot to do with how “constructive” feedback – both positive and negative – is. Once you establish trust, you can all roll up your shirtsleeves and dig in, pick a thing apart, put it back together, and end up with a result that’s satisfying. Feel like you’ve grown as a writer. Another thing about constructive critique is that you can take anything as long as it doesn’t strike harshly at the very core of your being and as long as you don’t start from a serious lack of self-confidence. I’m a writer, but I am a lot of other things, as well. I am a woman, but it is not the whole of my identity as a human being. I’d really rather not bore you to sleep, but there’s something to be said for a restful night, so if my words induce a snooze, at least let it be a good one. Words can hurt, but if you’re perceptive enough to recognize when they’re meant to and when they’re not, it takes a lot of the sting out of it. Anyone who would intentionally hurt you is a horrible human being; they have bigger problems than you have with whatever they’re critiquing. And if you know that you are ultimately in control – take the suggestions that seem true and useful, and discard the ones that aren’t “you,” you won’t go wrong.

Learning Japanese

I have a 38 day streak on Duolingo (Japanese). Still, I can only say things like “Is this water?” and “Rice please,” and “Japan is small. America is big,” and “Is this water or green tea?” So useful. If you’re in prison. Dōzo yoroshiku. Sore wa tedzukuri no naifu desu ka? 

Kentucky

We went to Kentucky earlier this month. “Why?” asks almost everyone we know. I’m tempted to say, “Because it’s there,” and that’s close to the truth. The goal is to visit every state. Louisville seems both livable and fun. Unless you’re an alcoholic.

Whisky Row is hard to resist. It’s also educational. Did you know that Old Forester is the only bourbon continually sold by the same company before, during, and after Prohibition?[1] Did you know that many popular bourbon brands are now owned by Japanese companies? We were told that they have a great respect for tradition and make good bourbon and good neighbors. To be bourbon, whisky must “contain at least 51% corn. (The rest of the mash is usually filled out with malted barley and either rye or wheat.) At this point, it looks and smells a little like a good sourdough bread starter. Once again, I was tempted to experiment with making my own starter, then remembered I do not need a pet yeast that has to be fed daily on a strict schedule.

The mash must be distilled at 160 proof or less, put into the barrel at 125 proof or less, and it must not contain any additives. The distillate must be aged in a new charred oak barrel.”[2] It’s aged in rickhouses that are not climate controlled, so the higher up the barrels are stored, the more affected they are by the heat. Heat makes the wood expand and lets the bourbon mingle with the oak and the char inside the barrel, for four or more years. 20-50% of the liquor is lost in the process, and that’s known as the “angels’ share.”

Kentucky really does have the best tasting water – straight from the tap. That is one of their secrets to making great bourbon. I’ll vouch – I certainly sampled enough flights while we were there.

I got to push the big green button (lower right) to char this newly made oak barrel while we toured the Old Forester distillery on Whisky Row.

But there’s plenty for the kids to do, there, too. Walk across the Ohio River from Kentucky to Indiana on the Big Four Bridge.  The whole walk, from the car and back, was about two miles. If that. Here, you can see it from the air:

Tour the Louisville Slugger Factory and get a souvenir bat that fits neatly into your suitcase. You can learn how bats are made – both retail and custom-designed bats for the professional players – and even hold bats used by famous baseball players like Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron. Despite my legendary loathing of sports, I had to hold both – no one says I can’t admire sports legends and history!

Legend has it that anyone who can lift that thing will win the World Series for the next 100 years. I didn’t even try. Just holding the thing in place, hoping one of the Astros will show up. Of course I cheer for the hometown team! (While watching movies in the other room.) My husband was surprised how much I enjoyed this part of our visit to Louisville. Frankly, so was I.

Star Wars fans won’t want to miss seeing one of the only light-saber baseball bats in existence:

We drove out to Mammoth Cave and took the historic tour. It’s a myth, by the way, that the cave is the same temperature year round. In fact, changes in temperature have occasionally caused the rock to crack and sections of the cave network to collapse.

Inside the base of the monument there is a hollowed place containing a list of names of Americans who died in World War I. Read more about the unusual history of The Great War Monuments – how they came to be located, and later relocated, within Mammoth Cave. Did you know that Mammoth Cave was also instrumental in our winning the American Revolutionary War? It once served as a saltpeter mine – a rich source of the ingredient essential to the manufacture of gunpowder.

These are wooden water pipes once used in the mining efforts. And below… well, that’s a BFH. Big F___ing Hole.

You really don’t want to drop your camera – or your cell phone – down one of these BFHs. You won’t be getting them back.

The cave once housed an experimental tuberculosis hospital, during the mid-1800s. Ultimately, some five months after it began, the experiment was deemed a failure and the survivors (all but five of the patients housed there) returned to the surface. The doctor who began it died, himself, of tuberculosis. The main flaw might have been the lack of electric lighting and smokeless means of cooking food.

Another highlight of the trip, for me, was finally getting to meet my friend Sandy, face to face. We’ve known each other since we met on the now-defunct Gather.com. Not quite 20 years, but close enough to count.

We had the morning before we left to visit the Frazier Museum and Churchill Downs.

Sources:

[1] Legacy Timeline – Old Forester | First Bottled Bourbon™

[2] What Makes a Whiskey Bourbon? (And Other Bourbon FAQs) | Mental Floss

All photos Copyright 2024 H. Jahangiri / J. Jahangiri and may not be copied, linked, or used without written permission.