Tag: society

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 24, 20228:53 pm

Don’t Fall In

On June 29, 2006, a sinkhole mysteriously opened in our backyard. We lived nearly 5 kilometers—about 3 miles—outside the Washington Beltway. I wouldn’t want to be too close to the District of Columbia this weekend, in the wake of today’s momentous, or shocking (depending on your politics or values), Supreme Court decision that overturned Roe v Wade. States will now individually dictate when, if at all, abortions may be performed.

I use the Featured Image as a metaphor, so to speak, for the sinkhole into which people praising or condemning the decision will fall into. Seems like there is no solid ground under this topic; anyone and everyone opposing your position, whatever that may be, will be pushed in and buried. To some, abortion is murder. To others, it’s a right taken away.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 19, 202210:21 pm

Juneteenth is a Terrible Name

The second celebrated Federal Holiday of the oddly-named Juneteenth is nearly over as I write. Oh, remembering the less formally-designated but also wide-celebrated: Happy Father’s Day to all the dads. My fingers are crossed that you’re happy being one and that the kids share the same sentiment.

Back to the other, the name unruly rolls off the tongue, doesn’t at all tell anyone what the celebration is for, and—go ahead and argue—poorly respects what the holiday represents. Quickly: On June 19, 1865, the Union Army rode into Galveston, Texas and announced the end of black slavery. Emancipation deserves better.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 30, 202210:10 pm

The Shredded Republic

For this Memorial Day we present a solemn sentiment reflecting the tattered state of the Republic, which is shorn to pieces by cultural and political strife. At no time since my first eligible-to-vote Presidential election have I seen such fractious and contentious state of the electorate or the representatives in Washington, D.C.

Worst of all is my profession. The Fourth Estate has abandoned its duty to protect the public interest. Subjective reporting and editorialization define modern journalism. The Fifth Estate, which includes new media and online informational utilities (e.g., Facebook, Google, Twitter, and the like), is worse because of rampant censorship. Patronizing tactics choose for you, because presumably you’re not smart enough to sift fact from fiction. I would mind less if professional news gatherers reported responsibly more.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 15, 20228:32 pm

No, It’s Me Watching You

On University Avenue in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood—alongside Bohdi Animal Hospital, across from Smart and Final—is a fitting homeless habitat. That is, if you go for the stereotype of some street-living person paranoid about government surveillance, which could include nanites from SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 vaccines. The sign says it all, in a triumphant tables-turning warning to the spies.

Today, as my wife and I waited for our turn to cross the street, I pulled around Leica Q2 for a single shot. Because, ah, someone watched me, speed mattered. The Featured Image is a close-crop, and, yes, University slopes along that stretch at Mississippi.

Living by Joe WilcoxMay 3, 202210:34 pm

‘Soylent Green’ Warned Us About Twenty-Twenty-Two

My preview of this year came during summer 1973 when one of mom’s drive-in movie adventures ended with showing of “Soylent Green”, starring Charlton Heston and Edward G. Robinson—both pictured, respectively, in the first screenshot. Mama would have been 32 years old, with four kids piled into an overly spacious, blue Chrysler Plymouth that by today’s gas-guzzling standards was more akin to a boat on four wheels.

I got to thinking about the film a few months back, seeing as how its dystopian future is 2022, when there is supposed to be environmental devastation, famine, overpopulation, riots, war, and wide gulf of wealth and poverty separating the elite class from everyone else. Hold on, does that not describe the year to date?

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 27, 202210:11 pm

Shattered Serenity

The difference 24 hours make. Yesterday, the abandoned houses still stood along Louisiana Street at El Cajon Blvd. Today, they—and the businesses around the block—are gone. The Featured Image captures something of the devastation. Vitals: f/8, ISO 100, 1/320 sec, 28mm; 1:26 p.m. PDT. This one and the others come from Leica Q2, aperture manually set for all.

My wife and I have known since summer last year what would happen along one of my favorite blocks in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. Two cottage complexes, a few modestly-rising apartment buildings, and bunches of single-story houses—with vast swaths of grass and greenery in an area otherwise converting to cement—create calming ambience. The street is, or was, surprisingly serene. Three residential properties on Louisiana and businesses half-way to Mississippi along The Boulevard are gone.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 7, 20228:52 pm

You Are Nobody

Yesterday, after photographing the bicycle traffic light, I continued along University Avenue in San Diego’s Hillcrest neighborhood before stopping to wonder at the mural that is the Featured Image and companion. The first hugs cross-street Sixth and the second is along the main throughway.

Is this who we are after two years of masking during the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 crisis? Faceless? So stripped of humanity to be utterly featureless, without even eyes? Whatever the artist’s intent, I see an overt—not even hidden—message: You are nobody. In a society where even gender is disputed, maybe no identity is the only rendition to depict.

Living by Joe WilcoxJan 6, 20228:20 pm

The Quiet Capitol

A year ago today, in the early afternoon, a rally for President Donald Trump turned to mayhem outside the U.S. Capitol. Certification of the 2020 election stopped, after angry protestors pushed into the building and lawmakers, along with VP Michael Pence, were ushered away. The Electoral count resumed in the evening, after crowds dispersed and law enforcement secured the premises; Joseph Biden was officially declared winner.

The incident, which I won’t characterize for lack of first-hand knowledge, is a turning point for the American Republic. If polls can be trusted, the direction depends much on point of view, which largely divides along party lines: Many Democrats see an attempted coup intended to steal the election. Many Republicans believe the election already had been stolen and constituents gathered to support the real President.

Choose your side wisely.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 26, 20216:44 pm

The Road Less Traveled

The Georgia-Meade Bikeway, about which traffic circles I have negatively opined, nears completion—and certainly appears to be ready through the University Heights to Normal Heights portion. In observation, and preparation to write about the occurrence, I captured the Featured Image on Nov. 28, 2021. Vitals, aperture manually set for this and the two companion photos: f/8, ISO 100, 1/200 sec, 28mm; 9:59 a.m. PST.

The view looks down Meade Avenue from Georgia Street. The traffic circle at Alabama is clearly visible but barely the one at Louisiana two blocks beyond. Near the horizon to the right is the North Park water tower, which many locals regard as an essential navigational landmark.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 24, 20219:13 pm

A Christmas Eve Reflection

The San Diego neighborhood where I live, University Heights, is a monument to secularism. The closest Jesus comes to being depicted or referenced anywhere is half his name in Christmas, prefaced by Merry, like on the, ah, Prideful trees that I wrote about two days ago.

So on this fateful Christmas Eve, I have no religious photos to share; no crosses, no nativities, nothing other than the stone snowman you may remember from two years ago. He made a 2020 appearance on the same property but brandishing a presidential political sign—and I did not approve. The fresh Featured Image comes from Leica Q2, two days ago. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/2.8, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 1 p.m. PST.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 22, 20219:06 pm

Who Approved This?

Last week, while walking along Panorama Drive, I passed by what seemed like the strangest holiday decoration: An inflatable, rainbow-colored Christmas tree. The next day, there were three. The day after, my wife and I walked over so that she could see. We found four more—not every one erect but all unmistakably identifiable even when deflated. This will be our fifteenth Christmas in this San Diego neighborhood, and I have never seen such signs like these.

As I opined on July 4th, about seeing more Pride flags than the Stars and Stripes, University Heights has undergone dramatic, observable changes since start of the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns in mid-March 2020. New residents, many of them Northern California escapees, are everywhere. Their emigration contributes to soaring rents and skyrocketing home sale prices. The newcomers also bring different values that are commiserate with adjacent Hillcrest, which is known as a gay enclave. But Pride holiday trees, all on the same street?

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 14, 20218:44 pm

Is God Inclusive?

This post is sure to stir up trouble. I write sparingly about politics and rarely about religion because the topics are metaphorical loaded automatic assault weapons ready to blast endless emotional rounds of ammunition. Retaliation is swift. You can’t duck fast enough or return fire in the way of meaningful discussion. For too many people, conversation isn’t an option. To them, you are offensive and wrong. So safety is measured in silence before the easily offended.

But I uncharacteristically wonder outloud about faith, sparked by the Featured Image, which I captured on Nov. 20, 2021 using iPhone 13 Pro. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 32, 1/1167 sec, 13mm; 12:45 p.m. PST. The church, located in San Diego’s Hillcrest neighborhood, has long puzzled me because of the six doors and what their combined colors represent. I had thought the canonized Bible—the same book the congregation presumably reads—prohibits behaviors and lifestyles which the institution embraces.