Political debate is important. It is the foundation of this country and the only acceptable means to resolve differences between competing interests.  Really, there is nothing fundamentally wrong with a heated discussion when both sides are passionate over their position of what’s right for America. In our hearts, we all want to win each and every battle. It matters not whether the topic is healthcare reform, immigration, gun control, or a proposed liquor license for the local Chuck E. Cheese restaurant turned strip club. In our heads, we know we can’t always have our way, but the least we should expect is for our voices to be heard and considered as part of the final compromise.  The implicit message here is respect.  We want it for ourselves and our beliefs, and we easily forget the other side is looking for, and deserves, the exact same thing.

It (almost) goes without saying that any explicit or implied threats on the life of any public official, or for that matter, any member of the opposition viewpoint, cross the line and should be strongly and swiftly rebuked.  Short of that extreme, is there anything else that should be considered out of bounds?   In the abstract, it is easy to say that any debate must be respectful, and that criticism should not be directed at the person, but rather at their position on the topic at hand. In the real world, the practical question of whether someone standing up and shouting at a public meeting is contributing to the debate or disrupting the conversation is colored by personal tolerances and opinions. What I think is acceptable and productive does not necessarily align with what you think is acceptable and productive, even if we otherwise share similar ideologies. 

A bad situation is made worse when the actual facts of any given issue are clouded by the rhetoric that is too readily accepted by the public as truth. No politician ever lies. Or rather, if you look closely enough, there is usually at least some small shred of truth associated with what comes from the mouth of any politician. But this shred is deliberately pulled and stretched until it is no longer recognizable in the context of the original issue, and for the sole purpose of confusing the voting public.  Once we get to the point where we are arguing over talking points that have no actual relevance to the issue at hand, when we are no longer having an informed discussion, we might as well be starving dogs fighting over a scrap of meat.  Too often, that is how it appears.

We may never know what single or series of multiple circumstances led to what occurred in Tucson.  I would put forth that knowing the actual cause doesn’t matter. We don’t need to distribute the blame for what occurred as much as we need to share in the responsibility for making things better.  This is the choice to be made.  I often tell my children that I don’t care who was responsible for whatever latest transgression of our household rules.  All I care about is who is going to step up and fix this situation?  I look to the politicians and anyone with a voice in today’s society for an answer.  I also direct this question at those who unwittingly elect their government representatives on the basis of rhetoric, rather than substance.  Anyone who thinks it’s someone else’s responsibility to fix this situation needs to look in the mirror.

The reaction from political figures at all levels was quick and predictable.  Shock.  Horror.  Anger.  Condemnation.  Condolences.  I do not disbelieve the sincerity of any of these reactions.  I don’t. However, what I find patently absurd in this situation is the newly awakened public indignation over the current and long-standing state of affairs in politics where rhetoric and gamesmanship are confused for leadership.  Apparently, the partisan vitriol in which many of us participate is not a problem until someone gets shot. It doesn’t matter whether the shooter was politically motivated or just some delusional nut-job.  The public will assume the shooting this was political, and perhaps well they should if any real good is to come from this tragedy.

The new majority leader in the House of Representatives stated late yesterday that his party would postpone the vote to repeal the healthcare reform law that Ms. Giffords supported last March. Wonderful. Our elected representatives will wait until another day to waste taxpayers’ dollars on an effort that has absolutely no chance to get through the Senate or past a presidential veto. It’s probably better to score these meaningless points with their constituents after Ms. Giffords is out of the headlines.  This is, after all, how many on both sides play the game.  And the winners of the game get to keep all the dollars from their political donors so they may continue playing the game.

Politics will always be.  The question is how can we have civil discourse with our neighbors and political leaders without demonizing each other?  How can we disagree without being disagreeable?  I don’t see how it’s possible to “take it down a notch” in today’s society. I hope we never again see a violent attack on any political figure. But I do not see anything changing until our elected representatives, on both sides of the aisle, step up and show real leadership by refusing to tolerate harmful or hateful rhetoric from their colleagues and constituents.  And this will not happen until “we the people” take notice of what’s really going on in Washington and act accordingly at the ballot box.  Who among those crying for change after yesterday’s tragedy will remember this at the next election?  Expecting better is commendable.  Doing something to get us there is the hard part.

I don’t figure on doing a lot of reviews.  That’s just not my objective with Canyon Eupho.  But I am obsessive about computer file backups.  All of the photos, e-mail, financial records, and other types of documents on my laptop are backed up hourly to my home network-attached storage device, and every night, those files are backed up to a commercial off-site service.  (If only the rest of my life were so secure and in such good order.)  Enter the Automatic WordPress Backup plugin.  This thing just works.  Without any prompting on my part, it creates a daily backup of the database containing all my posts and pages, uploaded pictures and other media, my plugins and their settings, and other files that are critical to how this website looks and works.

It took a little bit of computer savvy to get my backups going.  To varying extents, anyone attempting to use the Automatic WordPress Backup plugin is subject to the whims and idiosyncrasies of their web host.  That said, it’s been tested to be compatible with many web hosts, and personally, I can see every night that it works with Lunarpages, my web host.  Make sure you’ve got PHP5 enabled on the server where your website resides; for me, that was a manual switch I needed to hit in cPanel.  (I warned you this was for fellow bloggers and wannabes.)  But the real assist I needed came from another Lunarpages-hosted blogger, who provided documentation of the code changes necessary to turn off safe mode.  I wouldn’t have even known what question to ask, but this was my answer.

Backed up files are automatically transferred to and stored at Amazon S3 for an incredibly reasonable fee. I’ve selected the option to keep daily backups for a month, and monthly backups are maintained for a year.  With my current 30-megabyte website, this works out to just 15 cents a month for file storage!  Weekly and monthly backup options are available, which would further reduce the storage fees.  In the event of a website meltdown, just select the date of the appropriate backup version, and push the restore button.  I’ve not actually used this feature, and hope never to, but I have full confidence that everything is backed up.  This is easily verified by downloading any backup version from Amazon, unzipping the files, and opening the database with WordPad.

It’s an exaggeration to say I sleep better at night knowing my website is secure, but without a doubt, it is one less thing to worry about. For that, I offer great thanks to Dan Coulter and the Web Design Company for this fantastic plugin!  No one should blog without it.

The Day Before: Getting to the North Rim

This is where the adventure starts. . .the North Rim. It takes an entire day to get here from Phoenix, having driven first to the South Rim to catch the TransCanyon Shuttle, which leaves the Bright Angel Lodge promptly at 1:30 in the afternoon. The family accompanies me to the South Rim, but will be staying there one night and one day without me for their own version of the adventure. (“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Really. Really!!”) Nearly five hours and 215 miles later, I’m on the other side of the chasm.

For the record, the date is May 31, 2004. It’s “possible” to do this hike most anytime of year, but lodging on the North Rim is available only from mid-May to mid-October. It’s good to have a place to stay while you’re waiting for the next day to begin. Even more relevant, although the temperatures tomorrow are likely to exceed 100 degrees as I approach the bottom, the forecast only gets worse in June, July, and August. This time of year is as good as it gets.

The entrance to Grand Canyon Lodge is the first thing I see after getting off the shuttle. This building houses the front desk, the restaurant and a separate cafeteria, and the large room where the nightly ranger talks are held. The lodging (mostly rustic cabins, but some motel rooms, too) is all separate buildings. It’s quiet here. . .and so much cooler than Phoenix, now 11 hours in the past.

After checking into my cabin and dropping off the load I’ll be carrying all the next day, it’s time to get a quick look at the setting of tomorrow’s adventure before the sun goes down. It’s always a thrill to see Grand Canyon again for the “first time,” and this is usually about the time I start to really wonder whether I’ve trained enough this time.

It can be difficult to take really good pictures of Grand Canyon. Sunrise and sunset are usually the best bets for documenting the colors and vistas that have given this place the sense of adventure and mystique that continues to bring people from all around the world. . .and me, time and again, from just “down the road.” Visibility tonight is unusually good. The mountains on the horizon, including Mount Humphreys on the left, are 70 to 80 miles away.

Turning slightly to the south, I see tomorrow’s destination, which is only 10 miles distant. . .if I could fly. Somewhat obscured by the shadows of early evening, the crevice that hints of the deepest segment of Bright Angel Canyon is just visible near the lower right. With some luck, I’ll be at the bottom of that crevice by mid-morning, with about a dozen miles yet to go after that point.

After more than than 50 trips to Grand Canyon, it’s a toss-up whether I’ve seen more pictures taken of the big hole in the ground, or more pictures taken of the “cute” squirrels that will steal food (and sometimes a little flesh) right out of your hand. One thing is certain: not enough attention is paid to the “insignificant” things that really make this Canyon grand. Unnoticed by most passersby, I thought this Utah juniper is a magnificent specimen.

A good sign. . .a nearly full moon rising near sunset. If I get into trouble tomorrow and need to hike after sundown, there’ll be moonlight to hike by. Not actually all that difficult a proposition. . .I tried it one year (on purpose!), and rather enjoyed it.

Another day at Grand Canyon comes to an end. Depending on the status of my fluctuating sense of confidence in my hiking readiness, the next day will start all too soon. . .or not soon enough. But before I retire, there’s the ranger talk, which tonight is about rim-to-rim hikes! Attended mostly by vicarious adventurers of the type you’d never see below the Rim, I feel a momentary uptick in my attitude.

Over the past couple of years, the Park Service has placed a greater emphasis on the potential for mountain lion attacks. I’m not sure what I would do if, but my eyes and ears are working overtime, searching the shadows. . .and listening. I tell myself an encounter is unlikely, but I walk quickly along the side of the road. As an unexpected, pre-dawn jogger passes me heading back toward the lodge, I surprisingly reach the sense of calm I wish I had 30 minutes ago.

Finally, the trailhead! It’s 5:00 AM, it’s cool, it’s quiet, and there’s not another person to be seen. Ideal hiking conditions on all counts. It will get plenty warmer before it cools off again, late in the afternoon, and even though this is a Tuesday after the holiday weekend, it still is summertime at the Canyon, and I expect a fair amount of traffic on the trail. I take off the pack for a few moments to readjust the gear, get a picture of the trailhead, and then it’s time to “saddle up” and take the first steps down the trail.

I make the conscious decision to take it easy going down the trail today. The North Kaibab Trail is always steeper than what I remember from the time before, and although I’ve not previously had any problems, my meager amount of pre-hike training this year makes me wonder whether my knees will give out before the lungs or feet. There’s more than 14 hours of daylight today, so I might as well treat the knees kindly this morning. I can make up some time once I get past this first 5 or 6 miles of downhill.

This picture gives a good indication of the twilight that still exists at this time of the morning, just a few minutes past my 5:00 AM start. This view is looking southeast through Roaring Springs Canyon (one of hundreds of tributary canyons here), with Mount Humphreys just visible on the horizon, about 80 miles distant, near Flagstaff. Although a bit overcast, the unusual, excellent visibility from last night continues this morning.  The lightning-struck remains of a tree in the foreground are a reminder of a potential summertime hazard in the Canyon.

The Coconino is the most prominent layer of rock in this portion of the Canyon. Relatively young, at about 260 million years, the conventional theory of geologic history indicates that it represents a time when this area was a desert covered by rolling sand dunes. However, others are less than convinced, and believe the sand dunes were deposited underwater. Either way, it makes a great picture.

Not quite an hour and perhaps a bit more than 1.5 miles since the trailhead, I turn around and take a look at where I started. The trailhead is somewhere near the base of the “V” formed by the Canyon rim in this picture.  I am reminded that every foot of elevation I lose going down, I must work against gravity (and fatigue) to regain on the way up. But “the way up” is still several hours and many, many miles away. I grab a few more peanut m&m’s out of my fanny pack, and continue downhill.

On previous hikes down the North Kaibab, and again this time, I’ve seen backpackers on their way down in obvious pain after only 3 to 4 miles. It’s not the distance covered. It’s not the “dancing” to avoid rocks, logs, and mule droppings. It’s the precipitous rate at which the trail drops into the Canyon. It tests the knees. It jams the toes against the front of the boots. It makes you wonder why you only worried about getting out of the Canyon. Going in can be the bigger challenge.

Once through Supai Tunnel, I come upon one of my favorite views in the Canyon. This is the type of view that gets many novice dayhikers in trouble. “Oh, we’ll just go down to that switchback.” Before you know it, you’re another mile from the trailhead and 800 feet deeper into the Canyon.

Supai Tunnel was constructed during the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps to eliminate the previous need to hike along a narrow ledge to get around the outcropping of rock that it now goes through. Although the former danger is not apparent in this photo, the picture immediately above gives a good view of the abyss that long-ago hikers tried to avoid looking at as they traversed the precarious ledge.

The 1.5 mile section of trail below Supai Tunnel is perhaps the most frequently washed out and rebuilt section of trail in the Canyon. Flash floods caused by snow melt and brief, but powerful “monsoon” storms can wipe out hundreds of feet of trail in minutes.  It’s always a good idea to check trail conditions before embarking on any hike in the backcountry.

The first time I saw this section of trail, it was a surreal experience. I’d hiked the Canyon several times previously, seen lots of open spaces and long dropoffs, but to actually be a step and a half away from a 300-foot vertical drop was something I was neither expecting nor prepared for. And this section goes on like this for perhaps half a mile! Stay close to the wall. . .stay close to the wall. . .

Roaring Springs is the source of drinking water for the South Rim, 20 miles distant, by boot, from this location.  It also supplies the development on the North Rim and Phantom Ranch.  When the wind is calm, you can hear Roaring Springs from Bright Angel Point on the North Rim directly above.  There’s no missing it at this elevation as I go by.

It’s not much of a decision to just continue on toward Cottonwood Campground, versus taking the side trail to get a closer look at Roaring Springs. Every time I’ve been by this way, I’ve either had too many miles to go, or not enough daylight left, or both.

Bruce Aiken has lived at the bottom of the Canyon since 1973. (Author’s note:  Bruce retired from the Park Service in 2006.) He maintains the pump station at Roaring Springs, which supplies water to the South Rim via a 20-mile pipeline. He and his wife, Mary, have raised a family here, and it is said that his children earned college tuition by selling lemonade to thirsty hikers. At 4.7 miles since the trailhead, it’s also a great place to take the pack off for a while, with plenty of treated water and comfortable tree stumps available.

This waterfall appears shortly after you cross the bridge over to the east side of Bright Angel Creek, as the first of several bridged crossings.  Bridge behind, the trail then makes a relatively wide turn to the right, and then to the left, mimicking the path of the creek.  Before the turn left, the rushing sound of Bright Angel Creek intensifies as it passes through and over this assemblage of massive boulders that were themselves part of the Canyon walls long ago . . . somewhere upstream.  If you’re not paying attention, it is possible to walk right by and not notice this waterfall, because it faces down-trail.

There are a few locations along the trail where distant views of where I will be hiking are not encumbered by narrow or twisting Canyon walls.  The scene below Supai Tunnel, pictured earlier, is one stunning example. My present location introduces me to a surprisingly wide (and yes, relatively flat) valley along the Canyon bottom that allows long-range views in all directions.  This landscape will continue for about 3 to 4 miles until the Vishnu Schist and Zoroaster Granite are first exposed, foreshadowing the next significant change in my surroundings.  This is my first tease of today’s destination, the South Rim, since a brief glimpse or two near the top of the trail early this morning.

The sign at the Cottonwood Campground ranger house says it’s 7.2 miles to Bright Angel Campground, which means its about 6.7 miles to Phantom Ranch.  Although treated water delivered by pipeline is never a guarantee along the Corridor trails, this is as long of a distance between water taps as there is along today’s route.  Two liters is usually more than enough to cover the distance from here to Phantom, and considering that I’ve hiked this section of trail several times and should only need about three hours to do so today, it’s really not a big deal.  But I still always have this sense that I’m stepping out into the “real wilderness” as I depart Cottonwood.

I turn around for a moment and look north from near the top of what is unofficially known to veteran Grand Canyon hikers as Asinine Hill.  Compared to the total elevation change of today’s hike, this is a relatively minor bump in the road.  However, having left the shade and relaxation of Cottonwood only 30 minutes earlier, this short trek uphill is always an unwelcome start to the rest of the hike, especially given that there’s still plenty of downhill afterwards.  Could someone please turn down that sun?

This telephoto shot is about as close as I’ve gotten to Ribbon Falls, which becomes visible to the west as I start to descend the south-facing slope of Asinine Hill.  Ribbon Falls is a frequent, but very long dayhike destination for visitors who stay two nights at Phantom Ranch.  From where I’m standing, sweat dripping from my face, it looks exactly like paradise.  But I’m on a schedule, and a stop there would be too much of a detour with 15 miles to go.

Not quite 10:00 AM, and it’s hot. Although the hiking is easy, I am preoccupied by the fact there are few trees or rock overhangs along the trail to provide protection from the rapidly intensifying rays of the sun.  The Hike Smart tips issued by the Park Service strongly advise against hiking during this time of year between 10:00 AM and 4:00 PM, with good reason.  With the temperature doubtlessly approaching 90 degrees, every bit of shade is precious.  I remember that it will be even hotter before I’m done today.

I am approaching the halfway point of today’s hike, in terms of mileage, if not hours. It’s never really been a consideration that I’ve needed to actively consider, but should I get into some sort of trouble requiring self-rescue, the shorter escape route is no longer back to the North Kaibab trailhead. From this point forward, the Bright Angel trailhead, my intended destination, will be the best option.  The requisite cliche? “There’s no turning back now.”

About 2,000 feet above me is the eastern face of Clement Powell Butte, one of the many “arms” of the much larger Buddha Temple, which itself is located out of sight to the west.  Walter Clement Powell was a cousin of John Wesley Powell, and participated in the latter’s second expedition down the Colorado River in 1871.  With each step forward, I am cognizant of the surrounding terrain progressively towering above my head.

The close-in walls of The Box occasionally provide short-lived relief from the sun, even during the late-morning hours.  This view is looking back at the trail behind me.  You might consider hiking with a hard hat if the proximity of the overhead geology is a concern.  However, only once in all my years hiking the Canyon have I run across what I know to be a recent rockfall on the trail.  (It wasn’t there my previous time through.) That was within The Box.

Much of the North Kaibab Trail as it exists today was constructed during the 1920s.  It replaced an earlier route that crossed Bright Angel Creek more than 90 times.  Pictured here is a footbridge representing one of only 6 creek crossings along the modern trail, and a recent (circa 1995) reinforcement to the trail foundation.  The previous section of trail at this location was no match for the destructive flash floods that come through these narrow and winding Canyon walls with little warning.

There’s something about this uncharacteristically wide segment of The Box that captivates me each time I come by this way.  The juxtaposition of the relatively green and tranquil creek bed, the stark and unordered bedrock projections that dominate the scenery, and the well-layered butte high up on the Tonto Plateau (upper left) is unique.  Fortunately, the seating here is not extremely comfortable, and I move on after a few minutes.

This sign is found where the Clear Creek Trail joins with the North Kaibab Trail.  Another popular dayhike from Phantom Ranch includes going up this unmaintained trail less than a mile to Phantom Overlook, and then just a little further for the amazing views up and down the Colorado River gorge from near the top of the Tonto Plateau, about 1,000 feet up from the trail junction.  The sign facing the other way says it’s only 0.8 mile to  Bright Angel Campground, but my thoughts are on the rest stop at Phantom, which is even closer!

The sight of the first large Cottonwood tree tells me that the oasis of Phantom Ranch is just around the corner.  It’s just a few moments past noon, but I’m two hours behind the record pace I set in 1996 when I actually trained for this event. I realize that I will never again match that time, but I find solace in the reality that I’ve long since given up trying, and all that matters is being in the Canyon.  Hmm, that sentiment’s not actually believable, is it?

I usually break for an hour or so outside the Phantom Canteen, and today is no different.  While sitting here, I am often conflicted by the need for serious downtime (a nap would sure be nice) and the restless desire to get back on the trail.  There’s usually more than a few tired-looking souls hanging around the Canteen who obviously just hiked in from the South Rim, and are hoping to survive the hike out this afternoon. I set the unattainable goal to finish today’s hike before these obvious novices, and then I rest for another 20 minutes on the comfy bench.

The Silver Bridge is one of two footbridges across the Colorado River.  It was completed in the late 1960s to convey the new transcanyon pipeline that carries water from Roaring Springs to the South Rim.  It is used solely by hikers, as it is too narrow for the mules, and anecdotally, because the beasts will not tolerate the open-mesh steel grating that allows a view of the raging river directly beneath your boots.  Look down if you dare!

About 0.75-mile upriver, you can see the Black Bridge, which is primarily used by hikers coming down the South Kaibab Trail and mules going in either direction.  It’s 1:30 in the afternoon.  The mid-day heat is at its worst, but the full effect hasn’t hit me yet.  Just 5 minutes earlier, I doused my shirt at the last water tap until Indian Garden.  This will provide some cooling as it dries, but this meager relief will not last near long enough.

The hike uphill has now begun in earnest.  I’m a bit more than 2 miles from Phantom, but most of that distance along the river was either relatively flat (way too much sand!), or gradually sloping upwards (way too much sun!), followed by a vexing return of the trail to near river level. Finally, nearly 1.5 miles since the Silver Bridge, the trail turns away from the river, but by no means away from the sun.

Indian Garden.  Aways a good place to sit down, take off the boots, and rub the soles of the feet for awhile.  Moleskin, anyone? There’s “only” 4.6 miles left, and considering that it’s now 4:00 PM, most of what’s left will mercifully be in shade.  But the wall of 2,900 vertical feet in front of me can be intimidating.  It’s much better on the psyche to look across the Canyon to see how far I’ve come, rather than to look up at what remains.

The 3-mile resthouse beckons.  I have rarely stepped inside the actual resthouse, as I almost never need water at this stop, and prefer the relative quiet and comfort of the rocks just off the trail, immediately out-of-photo to the right.  I grab a few more calories out of my fanny pack, and hope for the 17th coming of my second wind.

As I look up at the last 3 miles, I visualize many of the familiar milestones yet ahead of me, calculating for each what the remaining mileage will be once I reach them.  This is a sure sign that it’s about time to get out.  Although I prefer to sit awhile longer, it is time to take care of business, lest my family waiting at the top will wonder and worry as my predicted finishing time of 7:00 PM approaches.

Another rim-to-rim hike comes to an end.  Cindy and the kids are there waiting, watching over the last few switchbacks for a familiar face.  I’m 10 minutes late, but quickly forgiven.  I ask for a picture, to document my condition at the end of today’s ordeal.  Already, the memory of the long miles and heat are fading, and I wonder when I will return.  But first, it’s time for a shower, a good meal at the Maswik cafeteria, and then a long night’s rest.

To his credit, President Bush delivered a timely message on the goodness of the Islamic faith and Muslim people. Just six days after the September 11^th attacks on New York and Washington, D.C., he visited the Islamic Center of Washington to voice an unequivocal call for respect for those American citizens who happen to be Muslim. It was the right thing to do, it was strong leadership, and it strengthened my pride in America.

Clearly, President Bush was the “adult in the room” at a troubled time in this country when it would have been easy for a very few isolated incidents to escalate into full-scale, popular condemnation of both Islam and Muslims. “Islam is peace.” He often repeated this same message during his presidency, contrasting the “extremists” against everyone else who truly follows the principles of Islam. “The face of terror is not the true faith of Islam.” Unfortunately, the passage of time has not been kind to this message of sanity and reason. Where have you gone, George W. Bush? We need to hear that message again, and not just from our current president.

While there were usually plenty of seasonably warm days during September in Wisconsin, there was no mistaking that Labor Day weekend signaled the end of summer in a practical sense.  It was time to put away the barbecue grills and camping gear, decorate and set out pumpkins for display, and ready ourselves for another long winter.  In contrast, one is never certain when summer will come to an end in the desert elevations of Arizona.  I’ve experienced more than my share of 100-degree days during October.  But the arrival of September gives rise to the hope that any given day might provide a glimpse of the tourist brochure paradise we expect around here during much of the fall, winter, and spring.

I do not ask for or expect sympathy for the torment of my self-imposed sentence in Arizona.  Not once have I needed to shovel sunshine or hot weather.  But I am conditioned by my Wisconsin upbringing to expect something better once September is here, despite all reason to the contrary.  Oh that’s nice, I see they’re forecasting a high of 109 degrees for the holiday weekend here.  Maybe we’ll see some improvement next week.  Hope springs eternal during the fall season.  If nothing else, there’s still football, regardless of the weather.  For a least a few more days, all of my teams are still undefeated.

On August 3, 2010, the New York City Landmark Preservation Council voted against landmark status for an otherwise obscure building that has been in lower Manhattan since the 1850s.  This building has become notable, in part, because a portion of the landing gear from United Flight 175 crashed through its roof on September 11, 2001, and more recently, because a mosque and Islamic community center has been proposed for this location.  The 9 – 0 vote by the Council cleared the way for demolition of the existing building.  This situation has become emblematic of a groundswell of intolerance in this country directed toward minority groups.  Later that same day, Mayor Bloomberg continued his stand against popular opinion and delivered a speech that included the following reminders of the principals upon which America was established: 

Whatever you may think of the proposed mosque and community center, lost in the heat of the debate has been a basic question – should government attempt to deny private citizens the right to build a house of worship on private property based on their particular religion? That may happen in other countries, but we should never allow it to happen here. 

We would betray our values – and play into our enemies’ hands – if we were to treat Muslims differently than anyone else. In fact, to cave to popular sentiment would be to hand a victory to the terrorists – and we should not stand for that. 

The [September 11] attack was an act of war – and our first responders defended not only our City but also our country and our Constitution. We do not honor their lives by denying the very Constitutional rights they died protecting. We honor their lives by defending those rights – and the freedoms that the terrorists attacked. 

On the day of the 2008 presidential election, California voters passed Proposition 8 by a margin of 52% to 48%, thereby revising the California Constitution to affirm that “only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.”  The California Supreme Court later upheld this result.  Incredibly, the two opposing attorneys who argued the 2000 Bush v. Gore case before the Supreme Court, Ted Olson and David Boies, joined forces on behalf of the American Foundation for Equal Rights to challenge Proposition 8. On August 4, 2010, in the first federal court ruling on the constitutionality of a voter-approved referendum on this very question, Judge Walker struck down the Proposition 8 ban against gay marriage in California.  Here are just a select few excerpts from his decision: 

The evidence shows that the movement of marriage away from a gendered institution and toward an institution free from state-mandated gender roles reflects an evolution in the understanding of gender rather than a change in marriage. The evidence did not show any historical purpose for excluding same-sex couples from marriage, as states have never required spouses to have an ability or willingness to procreate in order to marry. Rather, the exclusion exists as an artifact of a time when the genders were seen as having distinct roles in society and in marriage. That time has passed. 

Gender no longer forms an essential part of marriage; marriage under law is a union of equals. 

Moral disapproval alone is an improper basis on which to deny rights to gay men and lesbians. The evidence shows conclusively that Proposition 8 enacts, without reason, a private moral view that same-sex couples are inferior to opposite-sex couples. 

It is tempting to say these statements are courageous, given the preponderance and polarity of public opinion.  Whether they are or not is irrelevant.  What they are is a reflection of the 14th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.  Section 1 of that Amendment states, in part, “No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”  Like it or not, this protection applies to everyone, including Muslims, gays, and lesbians.

Granted, the history of the 14th Amendment is rooted in the years immediately following the Civil War, when southern Blacks were becoming subject to “black codes” that sought to impose a de facto extension of slavery.  If this appears an insufficient connection to what the Founding Fathers had in mind, consider that James Madison, generally recognized as the father of the Constitution, made a failed attempt in 1789 to limit the authority of the States to infringe upon the rights of individuals.  Ten of his proposed Constitutional amendments were ratified, known to us as the Bill of Rights, which serve only to limit federal authority.  But the proposed amendment restricting state authority that Madison considered to be most critical to the preservation of individual rights, which was approved by the House of Representatives, never made it out of the Senate: 

No state shall violate the equal rights of conscience, or the freedom of the press, or the trial by jury in criminal cases. 

This precursor to the 14th Amendment was written nearly 80 years before there was general agreement that the Constitution applied to state governments.  We needed a Civil War to resolve this question the first time.  For society in general, time and perseverance will ultimately lead to the understanding that rights apply to all. They are not something to be voted on by the majority or legislated against by politicians concerned with their own job security.  Mayor Bloomberg and Judge Walker have joined a never-sufficient number of leaders who have helped to guide us along the path to the “more perfect Union” that James Madison and the rest of the Founding Fathers pioneered so many years ago.

Over the past couple years, I would occasionally take a peek at my website.  Not for any good reason, simply to waste a few moments looking at my lame contribution to the interwebs, or perhaps to check whether it had magically transformed itself into something much more than what I could ever produce.  Unfortunately, the latter is exactly what happended.  Over the past eight months, someone had gained access to the server where my website is hosted and uploaded all kinds of things that . . . well let’s just say it wasn’t Grand Canyon tourism information.  Until I discovered this, it had earned me quite the undesirable listing in Google.

The situation today is under control.  Over the past two weeks, I’ve deleted everything from my website files, implemented a much more secure password that will be changed on a frequent basis, and I’ve started off with WordPress and all new files for this latest version of Canyon Eupho.  Updates to WordPress software and plugins will be promptly adopted.  Am I still vulnerable to hacking?  Of course I am; I use a computer and author a website.  Don’t do either if you want to stay secure.  Hopefully, “next time” won’t happen, but I plan to be watching closer than ever.  And who knows?  I may even get in a blog or two during the course of the next Olympiad (or for soccer fans, before the next World Cup).

Now that Pluto has been put in its place, we need to refocus our efforts on the remaining threats to the institution that we know as the solar system. For tens of thousands of years, humans have looked into the heavens and been humbled as they gazed upon Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. In stark contrast, Uranus and Neptune were not discovered until 1781 and 1846, respectively, and then only through the use of artificial means to magnify the faint light from these “planets.” These unnatural additions to the solar system jeopardize millennia-old folklore that was established long before the first telescope. Uranus and Neptune are not planets any more than Pluto is a planet.

I propose to define “solar system” as the union between the Sun and the six natural planets. Such a union cannot be regarded as anything other than civil. Everything else in the sky can be called for what it is and referred to simply as “indiscernible scientific curiosities.” The astronomers can continue to study whatever they please, while the rest of us can be assured that the moral fabric of our society is not harmed by “planets” that have no meaning to the majority of right-thinking people. Quick action is necessary. The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court is expected to rule in the coming months on the constitutionality of a proposed state law that would preserve the planetary status of Pluto and the existing eight planets. Similar reactions are expected in San Francisco and Portland, Oregon. We cannot allow our own planet to be put at risk because of the actions of a few activist judges.

Now if we can please just get back to this ludicrous concept of Earth not being at the center of the universe. . .