Wilma

Taking the trash out this evening, I see Wilma (did I call her Willa?) sitting on the next-door neighbor's porch. Maybe she has gotten scraps from them before? If so, it cannot be much. It hurts me to see that she is down to skin and bones. I was thinking about taking out some food for her, but that would only lock her into thinking that this place is a reliable refuge. I am pretty sure she is both feral and fertile, though I don't even know in fact if the cat is a she. Dogs and cats and their suffering tear my heart apart as much as people, probably more.

The Brave New World

Some new books have come out on the impact of new technology on employment and human welfare. It turns out that the picture is darker than what people once thought it might be.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The disappearance of jobs has not ushered in a new age of leisure, as social theorists predicted uneasily in the 1950s. Would the masses utilize their freedom from labor in productive ways, such as civic participation and the arts, or would they die of boredom in their ranch houses? Somehow, it was usually assumed, they would still manage to eat.

-- Barbara Ehrenreich at The New York Times

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>