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Is this finally the dawning of "The Age of Aquarius"?? (photo, left: Blake Barlow via unsplash) |
More than 70 million Americans voted for four more years of this!! (photo right, free image) |
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Published January 2021
[NOTE: How the time does fly! I admit it’s kind of inexcusable to go this long without posting a new commentary on current events. I clearly spend too much time posting comments elsewhere on social media. Also, I have been doing final tweaks to my memoir, and am aiming to launch an online crowdfunding campaign (before end of spring?) to empower me to self-publish that book. Updates on that situation will appear on this site.]
“Countdown to Ecstasy” was the name of the debut album by the remarkable Steely Dan, and I express my gratitude for their very existence.
The most important event since my last post was the successful defeat at the polls of the Severely Mentally Deranged individual currently occupying the Presidency of the USA. I described Trump as Mentally Deranged in one of my early commentaries on this website, and I have upgraded (downgraded?) his condition since then. His current absurd campaign to discard the result of the November 3, 2020 election is no surprise, since he warned us in advance he would not “accept” an outcome showing his defeat. He will fail again in all efforts, and the White House will be ready for serious disinfecting on January 20.
How I wish Mr. Biden’s ascent to the Top Job was something to genuinely celebrate, beyond the fact that it represents Trump’s defeat. January 20 will decidedly not mark the (much delayed!) dawning of “The Age of Aquarius.” This candidate went to great lengths to prove, during his Democratic Primaries and the general election campaigns, that he is absolutely no threat to the Established Order. Will he even make a serious effort, once in office, to address the Global Climate Catastrophe? And of supreme importance, even if he was serious about this genuine existential threat to our planet, would the Republicans in Congress succeed in thwarting said good intentions? All this remains to be seen.
It is not necessary for me to say much about the Virus Pandemic. The situation speaks for itself. Even some of Trump’s supporters apparently faded in reaction to the incumbent administration’s disastrous mishandling of the situation.
And yet...and yet...over 70 million of our fellow citizens still voted to retain in office the candidate least qualified to hold the office in the history of our nation. Unless they have lived in caves with no access to the media, or were in medically-induced comas for the past several years, they can’t possibly claim to be unaware that Donald J. Trump’s campaigns (and the rallies did not end with his inauguration in 2017) were based on hate, Hate, H-A-T-E. His “shout-out” to the extreme-racist Proud Boys during a televised Presidential Debate clearly did not deter his hardcore base. Doubtless it thrilled and inspired them! Trump’s supporters are not going to fade away on the whole, and likely will become crazier and more violent with the passage of time. Nothing to celebrate there.
The real damage to the US, and world, economy has yet to emerge from the shadows. The level of irrational exuberance among those throwing their money at US stocks is at an unprecedented level in my view. I can’t tell you exactly when--only by sheer dumb luck will someone win a prize for prophecy, predicting the exact date this will occur--but I guarantee that the last folks “holding the bag,” the last throwing their funds into these markets, will be very severely hurt and disappointed. This will probably hold even more true for those who’ve pumped up the price of Bitcoin, an imaginary “currency unit,” to stratospheric price levels. You read it here first!
Let us all strive to make 2021 a better year, but let us keep our eyes open to the reality that it’s going to be a very rough ride. Staying alert is a big help in staying alive!
END
[NOTE: How the time does fly! I admit it’s kind of inexcusable to go this long without posting a new commentary on current events. I clearly spend too much time posting comments elsewhere on social media. Also, I have been doing final tweaks to my memoir, and am aiming to launch an online crowdfunding campaign (before end of spring?) to empower me to self-publish that book. Updates on that situation will appear on this site.]
“Countdown to Ecstasy” was the name of the debut album by the remarkable Steely Dan, and I express my gratitude for their very existence.
The most important event since my last post was the successful defeat at the polls of the Severely Mentally Deranged individual currently occupying the Presidency of the USA. I described Trump as Mentally Deranged in one of my early commentaries on this website, and I have upgraded (downgraded?) his condition since then. His current absurd campaign to discard the result of the November 3, 2020 election is no surprise, since he warned us in advance he would not “accept” an outcome showing his defeat. He will fail again in all efforts, and the White House will be ready for serious disinfecting on January 20.
How I wish Mr. Biden’s ascent to the Top Job was something to genuinely celebrate, beyond the fact that it represents Trump’s defeat. January 20 will decidedly not mark the (much delayed!) dawning of “The Age of Aquarius.” This candidate went to great lengths to prove, during his Democratic Primaries and the general election campaigns, that he is absolutely no threat to the Established Order. Will he even make a serious effort, once in office, to address the Global Climate Catastrophe? And of supreme importance, even if he was serious about this genuine existential threat to our planet, would the Republicans in Congress succeed in thwarting said good intentions? All this remains to be seen.
It is not necessary for me to say much about the Virus Pandemic. The situation speaks for itself. Even some of Trump’s supporters apparently faded in reaction to the incumbent administration’s disastrous mishandling of the situation.
And yet...and yet...over 70 million of our fellow citizens still voted to retain in office the candidate least qualified to hold the office in the history of our nation. Unless they have lived in caves with no access to the media, or were in medically-induced comas for the past several years, they can’t possibly claim to be unaware that Donald J. Trump’s campaigns (and the rallies did not end with his inauguration in 2017) were based on hate, Hate, H-A-T-E. His “shout-out” to the extreme-racist Proud Boys during a televised Presidential Debate clearly did not deter his hardcore base. Doubtless it thrilled and inspired them! Trump’s supporters are not going to fade away on the whole, and likely will become crazier and more violent with the passage of time. Nothing to celebrate there.
The real damage to the US, and world, economy has yet to emerge from the shadows. The level of irrational exuberance among those throwing their money at US stocks is at an unprecedented level in my view. I can’t tell you exactly when--only by sheer dumb luck will someone win a prize for prophecy, predicting the exact date this will occur--but I guarantee that the last folks “holding the bag,” the last throwing their funds into these markets, will be very severely hurt and disappointed. This will probably hold even more true for those who’ve pumped up the price of Bitcoin, an imaginary “currency unit,” to stratospheric price levels. You read it here first!
Let us all strive to make 2021 a better year, but let us keep our eyes open to the reality that it’s going to be a very rough ride. Staying alert is a big help in staying alive!
END
Published October 4, 2020
And now for something completely different
Hubris and hatred brought about this disaster. Relevant to our present times?
Post-mortem on the White Whale
(this section Published October 22, 2020)
[I am putting this commentary upfront rather than at the conclusion of the actual review below due to length of the latter.] I have now completed perusal of the supplemental material included in the Norton Critical Edition of the Melville tale. The reviews by the author's contemporaries, quite a few British (the novel was originally published over there as The Whale), ran the gamut from high praise to severe criticism. The latter batch was dominated by reviewers who were offended by Melville's own criticisms of Christianity and its missionary proponents. Some agreed with me that the structure of the book is flawed, with Ishmael's personal narrative switching over to an omniscient entity that hears conversations transpiring in Ishmael's absence. Some critics thought the story was very realistic, others were convinced that it was all outlandish poppycock. But none zeroed in, as did I, on the key point in the story being First Mate Starbuck's failure of resolve to terminate Captain Ahab's madness, by either "terminating with extreme prejudice" the captain himself, or at least leading a mutiny that would end the mad pursuit of Moby which ultimately would cost about thirty lives (I don't think Melville ever specified the exact size of the crew) and the whaling vessel itself. I stand by my position on this and I now bid adieu to Moby-Dick. I will not be retaining this volume in my personal library, but at least I can truthfully boast that I read every darned word of it. One last observation: As we approach a national decision on November 3 over whether we should continue the current insanity of Trumpism or revert to the "normality" of the past--not a great thing in and of itself--I am tempted to say that the present administration has had any number of Starbucks on board who grasped the grave madness of the mission "the captain" was steering us on, but lacked the resolve to try to turn the great ship of state from its doomed course.
Moby-Dick: A "real-time" Book Review
Introduction. Let the adventure begin! Having escaped any requirement to read this infamous bete-noire of American literature during my time in school, I now tackle it of my own volition. When I was growing up, I had the impression that students everywhere shuddered when finding Moby-Dick on a course syllabus! I endeavor to learn whether that feeling was justified (sending many a student scrambling for a copy of the Cliff’s Notes version, no doubt). When Edmund Hillary was asked why he wished to climb Mt. Everest, he famously replied “Because it’s there!” Fair enough. From my first reading session, it became clear I would have to comment on this work, so I vowed to write my review as I read, rather than waiting until completing the story. I bought the Norton Critical Edition (Second Edition), paperback, copyright 2002. All page references shall refer to this edition. The book is profusely annotated (Editors: Hershel Parker & Harrison Hayford) and the novel is followed by appendices totaling nearly as many pages as the tale of the whale itself. The latter section includes some very unflattering reviews by Melville’s contemporaries, many of which were published anonymously (!). I will read that stuff in a separate undertaking. And so, let us launch!
First observation. The novel opens with a famously brief statement from the story’s narrator: “Call me Ishmael.” The editors note that this name suggests its owner is of a well-educated, even a privileged background. The reader quickly discovers the chap has quite a vocabulary, ’tis true. And this reader soon suspects the verbiage hints of “filler” or “padding.” I’ll have a better idea later on. Here’s a thought, though: Just because the narrator instructs us to call him Ishmael doesn’t mean that’s his real name. Why is a gentleman, let us say, off from Manhattan to Nantucket to sign on as crewman on a whaling voyage? He says it’s to alleviate his boredom with urban life, where he is sometimes tempted to perpetrate acts of violence against his fellows for a change of pace. Interesting chap! Among this torrent of Melville verbiage (and let the record reflect I have not read any of this author’s works), these lines (pg. 25) took my breath away: “Yet Dives [a rich merchant consigned to Hell in the New Testament] himself, he too lives like a Czar in an ice palace made of frozen sighs, and being a president of a temperance society, he only drinks the tepid tears of orphans.” Do not these lines belong in a song penned by Bob Dylan or Tim Buckley?!
Second Observation. From Rev. Mapple’s sermon at the chapel in New Bedford, prior to Ishmael’s going to sea, on the topic of Jonah and the whale: “In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without a passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers.” (pg. 50)
Third Observation. Though initially repelled by the appearance of the heavily-tattooed Queequeg—apparently modeled on a Maori whose encounter with “civilization” had been written of by a Brit visiting New Zealand prior to Melville penning Moby…and by the way, would not Queequeg fit in perfectly with some of today’s professional athletes and other young people?—Ishmael by around page 60 has adopted the “cannibal” as a “bosom friend” (Melville actually uses the phrase). I suspect this is Melville “mooning” the New England Puritan ethos, and I say more power to him! As we know, the frightfully elevated morals of the Puritans didn’t slow in the least their campaigns of extermination against the indigenous inhabitants of New England. Indeed, their perverted view of the natural world doubtless fueled their racism.
Fourth Observation. Queequeg observes Ramadan (pg. 79)! I find it unlikely this native of a (fictitious) South Pacific island would have encountered Islam. Ishmael doesn’t mention this religion thus far, which would have been called “Mohammedanism” in those times. But our harpooneer also attends Christian churches, and engages in pagan rituals, which no proper Muslim would do, of course. Arguing for tolerance, on the matter of religious conflicts our narrator observes “…we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.” Speaking of intolerance, the two principal owners (who purport to be Quakers!) of the Pequod, the whaling vessel our lads are shipping out on, refuse to allow the “cannibal” Queequeg on board until he can prove he has converted to Christianity (pgs. 83/84). Ishmael quickly concocts the fib that Q. is a member of the First Congregational Church! When his veracity is challenged, he escalates the lie, stating Q. is no less than a deacon in that denomination! Ishmael delivers a near-sermon on Christian fellowship and succeeds with this bluff. Of course it helps that Q. gives the ship owners an impressive demonstration of his accuracy in hurling a harpoon. Melville offers a defense of the whaling industry (pg. 98), via Ishmael’s mouth, that doesn’t hold water (no pun intended) 150 years later. He says the practice is becoming somewhat disreputable in the public eye, with the ugly butchery of its victims. It is a tragedy of greatest magnitude that public opinion did not turn sufficiently sour on whaling to put the industry out of business way back then. (Note that though scientists knew mid-19th Century that whales are mammals, they were almost universally called fish, often whale-fish.) But what about the ugly butchery carried out on land by clashing militaries, asks he? Are not the victorious commanders hailed as heroes? Touche, somewhat, Mr. Melville.
Fifth Observation. Per the above, Melville has Ishmael express a firm belief that the whale is a fish, albeit an unusual version (pg. 117). Thirty-plus chapters into the book (there are 135 in all in this edition!), I’m convinced Melville is “padding” the tale. Here are three quite droll sentences concluding Chapter 32 (pg. 125): “God keep me from ever completing anything. This whole book is but a draught [draft]—nay, but the draught of a draught. Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience!” Surely this is Melville himself, speaking by Ishmael’s pen. But this raises the question, sure to be addressed in the materials following the formal text in this edition: When, and how, did Ishmael decide to become an author? Has he undertaken to recount his voyage on the Pequod simply because he feels he has compelling revelations to deliver to the world?
Sixth Observation. I was stunned to find First Mate Starbuck talking back to Ahab before the assembled crew (pg. 139/140) after the captain nails the gold coin to the mast as reward for he who first espies the White Whale. Starbuck openly questions Ahab’s sanity. By Chapter 37 (pg. 142), Melville has started inserting stage directions after chapter titles, and members of the crew are delivering soliloquies, with their dialogue not enclosed in quotation marks. It appears Melville has decided to toss the conventions of novel writing overboard! I bet when I get to the reviews by some of his contemporaries later in this book, he will be lambasted for this! From Ahab’s soliloquy: “They think me mad—Starbuck does; but I’m demoniac, I am madness maddened!” (pg. 143). How comforting that language would be if spoken aloud! Starbuck soon confirms (again, in his own head) that he deems the captain a madman. In Chapter 42 (pg. 159) Melville has Ishmael reflect on the significance to various human societies of “whiteness.” Ishmael states that white men constitute a Master Race, entitled to rule over all others. This reflects the belief of the times (and of course lingers with us still), but Ishmael’s own chumminess with Queequeg calls into question the sincerity of his own embrace of such a racist doctrine. But stark whiteness, continues Ishmael, can also convey terror—the notion of ghosts, the pallor of a corpse when the blood has drained from the face, the whiteness of many sharks, and the dreaded Moby Dick itself (and suddenly the hyphen in that name has vanished!). Of course the Ku Klux Klan, with its fondness for white sheets and white dunce caps (oh, right, they call them hoods!) wasn’t founded until some years after publication of this story.
Seventh Observation. In Chapter 48 (pg.181) the crew of the Pequod finally encounter a pod of sperm whales. The three whale boats scramble into the water for the pursuit, only to find a fourth boat has been lowered, with Ahab himself in command. HIs boat is propelled by five “Manillans” (Filipinos, one imagines), who, though less robust than most of the crewmembers, prove far superior at rowing. Back on Nantucket prior to casting off, Ishmael and Queequeg had thought they saw five shadowy figures boarding their vessel, but were too far away to make out these “phantoms” plainly. Rumors among the crew once at sea of mysterious entities hiding below-decks are now confirmed. I don’t recall this aspect of the story having been depicted in John Huston’s film of this tale. This is a strange twist indeed, Mr. Melville.
Eighth Observation. With Chapters 54-57, Melville grinds the narrative to a halt as we endure a tale about a mutinous crew on another whaling cruise which only tangentially involves Moby Dick. The point, I believe, is to reinforce the already floated notion that this great marine terror has reportedly been sighted in every ocean on the planet. But I’m blowing my referee’s whistle loudly now, Herman, screaming “Padding!! 15-yard penalty!” Then follow three chapters of Melville’s criticism of how whales have been depicted over the ages in painting and sculpture, containing some scientific errors on the author’s own behalf, as pointed out in footnotes by the editors of this edition. Thank goodness I’m now more than halfway through this tome! Really, if Mr. Melville found whaling so fascinating, he should have written a nonfiction account of the trade, which would also have been a travelogue, as it is said he actually did enlist to be a crewmember on a whaling expedition. Such a work would have been rife with scientific inaccuracies, but hopefully with less padding!
Ninth Observation. We have reached Chapter 73 (pg. 259) now, and suffered grisly descriptions of the slaughter and processing of a sperm whale and a Right whale. (Only the “lips” and tongue of the latter specimen are considered valuable, as treats for the tables of gourmands.) Fedallah, bossman of Ahab’s personal crew of “Manillans,” has persuaded the captain that hoisting the heads of a sperm whale and a Right whale over the stern of a ship simultaneously guarantees the vessel will be forever unsinkable. Meanwhile, Second Mate Stubb has concluded that this Fedallah is likely The Devil Incarnate! He has perhaps promised Ahab his maniacally-desired encounter with the White Whale in exchange for the captain’s own soul, it is surmised. At this point, I will add a new “charge” against Mr. Melville. He gives us dramatic situations without conclusions. For example, members of a German whaling crew are tossed from their boats into the drink, with sharks lingering in the area, having been drawn by the blood flowing from a whale’s wounds. What became of these hapless sailors? Don’t ask Herman!
Tenth Observation. Chapter 89, “Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish,” explains that in mid-19th Century there was no international treaty on whaling. But on the high seas, there was a general understanding: a “fish” (whale in this context) that is attached in any way to a vessel with a live human crew on board, or bears a marker identifying any specific ship as having taken it in the hunt, belongs to that vessel. On the other hand, a “Loose-Fish” is one that has drifted away dead, or swum away wounded, from a whaling operation with no sign of “fastness” apparent. That “fish” is subject to “Finders keeper, losers weeper.” [My own paraphrase for modern times, not Melville’s construct.] The final paragraph (pg. 310) of this chapter is what interests me most: “What are the Rights of Man [espoused by the French Revolution, influenced by Thomas Paine—GL] and the Liberties of the World but Loose-Fish? What all men’s minds and opinions but Loose-Fish? What is the principle of religious belief in them but Loose-Fish? What to the ostentatious smuggling verbalists are the thoughts of thinkers but Loose-Fish? What is the great globe itself but a Loose-Fish? And what are you, reader, but a Loose-Fish and a Fast-Fish, too?” If not for moments like this, I would likely have succumbed by Chapter 89 to the temptation to toss this tome aside. After all, one only has just so many years to one’s life. I chucked James Joyce’s Ulysses after getting well beyond halfway, because his prose had turned to mere gibberish.
Eleventh Observation. In Chapter 105, Ishmael reckons that Man could never drive the whale to extinction, the seas are so teeming with the creatures. For support, he reckons the same for the elephant. Ouch, bad choice there, Herman, from our present perspective. I am merely commenting on the unintended cruel irony of these reckonings, not blaming Melville for failing to have a crystal ball tuned to the future. But in the next chapter, I gotcha, Herman! Here he has erred grievously in his narrative. For he has Ishmael somehow peer into Ahab’s innermost private thoughts. This is the job of the famous “omniscient narrator” of a work of fiction, and suddenly that’s how Melville is writing, instead of as his protagonist Ishmael, who’s supposed to be reporting simply what he sees and hears on his voyage and his own reactions to events. Ahab has not revealed these thoughts via a soliloquy as characters have done previously, nor does a third party inform Ishmael he heard the captain muttering this or that to himself. Another 15-yard penalty, Herman!
Twelfth Observation. Chapter 117, pg. 377. On Ahab’s whaleboat, attached to a slain whale the crew couldn’t tow to the Pequod in daylight hours, the captain converses with ‘the Parsee’ deep in the night. I hadn’t quite grasped earlier who this character is. It is none other than Fedallah, headman of Ahab’s private crew of “Manillans.” But a little research shows that Parsees are from India, and follow Zoroastrianism, a religion of ancient Persia; so the headman is not Filipino. Fedallah now prophesies that Ahab can only die “by hemp.” Since most every literate speaker of English knows how this novel will end, we grasp the meaning of this. But Ahab interprets it as meaning he will be hanged on the gallows some day, ashore, and thus if he stays at sea permanently he will be “immortal on land and on sea!” Bad call, old chap. And another 15-yard penalty for Melville! This private conversation (the other oarsmen of the small boat being asleep) can’t possibly be known to Ishmael, as he is not aboard this whaleboat. Around this point in the tale, we are presented another uncompleted narrative. It’s discovered that one or more of the casks of whale oil being stored in the hold is leaking. To find the source, the crew is ordered to haul every cask topside for examination in the daylight, an exhausting undertaking. But we aren’t told if the leak was found, or of the effort required to load everything back down below decks. In Chapter 119, pgs. 382/3, Ahab delivers a preposterously verbose, melodramatic speech during a raging typhoon. Starbuck urges they set sail for home, abandoning the mad quest for the White Whale. Ahab will hear nothing of it. In Chapter 123, Starbuck actually contemplates murdering the captain as he sleeps in his cabin, or imprisoning him (which would be mutiny), so does he fear the outcome of this mission to slay Moby Dick. The whole crew may perish, he sincerely believes. But he can’t bring himself to take such an action. In succeeding chapters, Starbuck continues to attempt to sway Ahab to turn the Pequod toward home, but in vain. Ahab is taking to incoherent mutterings, even admitting he’s gone mad. The final confrontation with the White Whale approacheth!
Thirteenth (lucky!) and Final Observation. Chapter 134: Having finally found his whale in the South Pacific, near the Equator, Ahab puts the Pequod in pursuit. So powerful is the beast that it can outdistance any vessel for prolonged periods, harpoons and lances from previous hunts still embedded in his flesh, dragging numerous lines in his wake. On Day 2 of Ahab’s final pursuit, all the boats launched are smashed by blows from Moby’s tail flukes or ramming by his enormous head. The captain’s peg leg, even, is broken and will have to be replaced by the ship’s carpenter. But the only fatality is Fedallah, tangled up in harpoon lines and pulled to his death. This upsets Ahab, as ‘the Parsee’ had made prophecies Ahab bought into and the latter expected the former to be present for the very last confrontation. Starbuck again begs, this time in Christ’s name, to abandon the pursuit. Fat chance! All this action is described as from the “God’s eye view,” or Omniscient Narrator. Where the devil is Ishmael? On to Day 3 of the chase we go (Chapter 135). The crew has worked through the night to cobble back together some functional whaleboats. The whale is again sighted and pursued, and again all boats smashed up, excepting Ahab’s. The ship’s best harpooneers are all aboard the Pequod now, having been plucked from the drink, which is now teeming with sharks. And now Ahab sees the remains of Fedallah, entangled in lines (ropes of hemp), effectively lashed to Moby Dick’s side. The dreaded leviathan now makes a run at the Pequod herself, intent on ramming and taking her down. Despite these very fast-moving developments, Ahab and the three Mates all find time to deliver verbose soliloquies, which is rather ludicrous, frankly. The Pequod’s hull is breached and she’s going down fast. Ahab still hopes to sink additional harpoons and lances in his foe’s flanks, but Moby’s circling about in the sea causes a loop of rope to go around Ahab’s neck and in a flash, he’s gone. Thus, he has “died by hemp,” in effect hanged at sea rather than on land. I now grasp that in John Huston’s movie version, the image of Fedallah lashed to the whale was transferred to Ahab, who is still stabbing with all his fury at the whale as he’s pulled below the sea. A dramatic image, but unfaithful to Melville. In a brief Epilogue, we learn that Ishmael was in Ahab’s boat, Fedallah’s replacement I suppose, for this final action. Our narrator was far enough from the Pequod to not be sucked down with her as she created a whirlpool sinking to Davy Jones’s Locker. All the rest of the crew has perished, even the robust harpooneers. That doesn’t seem plausible to this reader. And now, a wooden float conveniently bobs to the surface, clinging to which Ishmael survives until he is rescued a couple days later by another whaling vessel the Pequod had previously encountered. So this whale of a tale comes down to us from the pen of the sole survivor of Ahab’s mad mission. And what became of the teeming sharks?! Will Ishmael plan to ever put to sea again after this? No hint. And we never did learn in what language the captain communicated with his Filipino private crew—Spanish? Tagalog? Melville’s sloppiness with details haunts the book right to the closing page.
SUMMATION: Here we have a tale of a man so consumed by hatred for a non-human being, which offended him so by taking a lower leg in the act of defending itself against barbarous assaults, that he has cost the lives of about thirty men. My own sympathy, certainly, lies with the whale. There is no lack of hubris in Ahab, either. “Immortal on land and on sea,” eh? In the time of Donald J. Trump—an individual consumed with hatred for 99.99999% of creation, dedicated to his mission of making our world a worse place, and boasting superhuman hubris (are ye "immortal on land and on sea," o Donald?!)—perhaps we can draw a new moral from Melville’s story. First Mate Starbuck’s courage failed him when it was most needed: Had he killed Ahab, or at least had led a mutinous revolt and terminated the Pequod’s mad mission, provided a benign Neptune looked on, there would have been happy family reunions back at home port of Nantucket. There have been a number of potential Starbucks in the Trump administration, including retired generals, who made noises about the sickness at the core of that operation, but lacked the guts to do anything to try to abort the mission.
I am compelled to report that I regret having expended the time and effort to absorb this infamous literary work. I am not inspired to pursue other works by the author. That said, I will plow through additional hundreds of pages of supplemental material in this Norton Critical Edition to study the insights of other readers. However, I reserve the right to just skim, or skip over, sections that aren’t compelling. But before I tackle that, o shipmates, I will take a breather from this tall, tall tale!
END
First observation. The novel opens with a famously brief statement from the story’s narrator: “Call me Ishmael.” The editors note that this name suggests its owner is of a well-educated, even a privileged background. The reader quickly discovers the chap has quite a vocabulary, ’tis true. And this reader soon suspects the verbiage hints of “filler” or “padding.” I’ll have a better idea later on. Here’s a thought, though: Just because the narrator instructs us to call him Ishmael doesn’t mean that’s his real name. Why is a gentleman, let us say, off from Manhattan to Nantucket to sign on as crewman on a whaling voyage? He says it’s to alleviate his boredom with urban life, where he is sometimes tempted to perpetrate acts of violence against his fellows for a change of pace. Interesting chap! Among this torrent of Melville verbiage (and let the record reflect I have not read any of this author’s works), these lines (pg. 25) took my breath away: “Yet Dives [a rich merchant consigned to Hell in the New Testament] himself, he too lives like a Czar in an ice palace made of frozen sighs, and being a president of a temperance society, he only drinks the tepid tears of orphans.” Do not these lines belong in a song penned by Bob Dylan or Tim Buckley?!
Second Observation. From Rev. Mapple’s sermon at the chapel in New Bedford, prior to Ishmael’s going to sea, on the topic of Jonah and the whale: “In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without a passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers.” (pg. 50)
Third Observation. Though initially repelled by the appearance of the heavily-tattooed Queequeg—apparently modeled on a Maori whose encounter with “civilization” had been written of by a Brit visiting New Zealand prior to Melville penning Moby…and by the way, would not Queequeg fit in perfectly with some of today’s professional athletes and other young people?—Ishmael by around page 60 has adopted the “cannibal” as a “bosom friend” (Melville actually uses the phrase). I suspect this is Melville “mooning” the New England Puritan ethos, and I say more power to him! As we know, the frightfully elevated morals of the Puritans didn’t slow in the least their campaigns of extermination against the indigenous inhabitants of New England. Indeed, their perverted view of the natural world doubtless fueled their racism.
Fourth Observation. Queequeg observes Ramadan (pg. 79)! I find it unlikely this native of a (fictitious) South Pacific island would have encountered Islam. Ishmael doesn’t mention this religion thus far, which would have been called “Mohammedanism” in those times. But our harpooneer also attends Christian churches, and engages in pagan rituals, which no proper Muslim would do, of course. Arguing for tolerance, on the matter of religious conflicts our narrator observes “…we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.” Speaking of intolerance, the two principal owners (who purport to be Quakers!) of the Pequod, the whaling vessel our lads are shipping out on, refuse to allow the “cannibal” Queequeg on board until he can prove he has converted to Christianity (pgs. 83/84). Ishmael quickly concocts the fib that Q. is a member of the First Congregational Church! When his veracity is challenged, he escalates the lie, stating Q. is no less than a deacon in that denomination! Ishmael delivers a near-sermon on Christian fellowship and succeeds with this bluff. Of course it helps that Q. gives the ship owners an impressive demonstration of his accuracy in hurling a harpoon. Melville offers a defense of the whaling industry (pg. 98), via Ishmael’s mouth, that doesn’t hold water (no pun intended) 150 years later. He says the practice is becoming somewhat disreputable in the public eye, with the ugly butchery of its victims. It is a tragedy of greatest magnitude that public opinion did not turn sufficiently sour on whaling to put the industry out of business way back then. (Note that though scientists knew mid-19th Century that whales are mammals, they were almost universally called fish, often whale-fish.) But what about the ugly butchery carried out on land by clashing militaries, asks he? Are not the victorious commanders hailed as heroes? Touche, somewhat, Mr. Melville.
Fifth Observation. Per the above, Melville has Ishmael express a firm belief that the whale is a fish, albeit an unusual version (pg. 117). Thirty-plus chapters into the book (there are 135 in all in this edition!), I’m convinced Melville is “padding” the tale. Here are three quite droll sentences concluding Chapter 32 (pg. 125): “God keep me from ever completing anything. This whole book is but a draught [draft]—nay, but the draught of a draught. Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience!” Surely this is Melville himself, speaking by Ishmael’s pen. But this raises the question, sure to be addressed in the materials following the formal text in this edition: When, and how, did Ishmael decide to become an author? Has he undertaken to recount his voyage on the Pequod simply because he feels he has compelling revelations to deliver to the world?
Sixth Observation. I was stunned to find First Mate Starbuck talking back to Ahab before the assembled crew (pg. 139/140) after the captain nails the gold coin to the mast as reward for he who first espies the White Whale. Starbuck openly questions Ahab’s sanity. By Chapter 37 (pg. 142), Melville has started inserting stage directions after chapter titles, and members of the crew are delivering soliloquies, with their dialogue not enclosed in quotation marks. It appears Melville has decided to toss the conventions of novel writing overboard! I bet when I get to the reviews by some of his contemporaries later in this book, he will be lambasted for this! From Ahab’s soliloquy: “They think me mad—Starbuck does; but I’m demoniac, I am madness maddened!” (pg. 143). How comforting that language would be if spoken aloud! Starbuck soon confirms (again, in his own head) that he deems the captain a madman. In Chapter 42 (pg. 159) Melville has Ishmael reflect on the significance to various human societies of “whiteness.” Ishmael states that white men constitute a Master Race, entitled to rule over all others. This reflects the belief of the times (and of course lingers with us still), but Ishmael’s own chumminess with Queequeg calls into question the sincerity of his own embrace of such a racist doctrine. But stark whiteness, continues Ishmael, can also convey terror—the notion of ghosts, the pallor of a corpse when the blood has drained from the face, the whiteness of many sharks, and the dreaded Moby Dick itself (and suddenly the hyphen in that name has vanished!). Of course the Ku Klux Klan, with its fondness for white sheets and white dunce caps (oh, right, they call them hoods!) wasn’t founded until some years after publication of this story.
Seventh Observation. In Chapter 48 (pg.181) the crew of the Pequod finally encounter a pod of sperm whales. The three whale boats scramble into the water for the pursuit, only to find a fourth boat has been lowered, with Ahab himself in command. HIs boat is propelled by five “Manillans” (Filipinos, one imagines), who, though less robust than most of the crewmembers, prove far superior at rowing. Back on Nantucket prior to casting off, Ishmael and Queequeg had thought they saw five shadowy figures boarding their vessel, but were too far away to make out these “phantoms” plainly. Rumors among the crew once at sea of mysterious entities hiding below-decks are now confirmed. I don’t recall this aspect of the story having been depicted in John Huston’s film of this tale. This is a strange twist indeed, Mr. Melville.
Eighth Observation. With Chapters 54-57, Melville grinds the narrative to a halt as we endure a tale about a mutinous crew on another whaling cruise which only tangentially involves Moby Dick. The point, I believe, is to reinforce the already floated notion that this great marine terror has reportedly been sighted in every ocean on the planet. But I’m blowing my referee’s whistle loudly now, Herman, screaming “Padding!! 15-yard penalty!” Then follow three chapters of Melville’s criticism of how whales have been depicted over the ages in painting and sculpture, containing some scientific errors on the author’s own behalf, as pointed out in footnotes by the editors of this edition. Thank goodness I’m now more than halfway through this tome! Really, if Mr. Melville found whaling so fascinating, he should have written a nonfiction account of the trade, which would also have been a travelogue, as it is said he actually did enlist to be a crewmember on a whaling expedition. Such a work would have been rife with scientific inaccuracies, but hopefully with less padding!
Ninth Observation. We have reached Chapter 73 (pg. 259) now, and suffered grisly descriptions of the slaughter and processing of a sperm whale and a Right whale. (Only the “lips” and tongue of the latter specimen are considered valuable, as treats for the tables of gourmands.) Fedallah, bossman of Ahab’s personal crew of “Manillans,” has persuaded the captain that hoisting the heads of a sperm whale and a Right whale over the stern of a ship simultaneously guarantees the vessel will be forever unsinkable. Meanwhile, Second Mate Stubb has concluded that this Fedallah is likely The Devil Incarnate! He has perhaps promised Ahab his maniacally-desired encounter with the White Whale in exchange for the captain’s own soul, it is surmised. At this point, I will add a new “charge” against Mr. Melville. He gives us dramatic situations without conclusions. For example, members of a German whaling crew are tossed from their boats into the drink, with sharks lingering in the area, having been drawn by the blood flowing from a whale’s wounds. What became of these hapless sailors? Don’t ask Herman!
Tenth Observation. Chapter 89, “Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish,” explains that in mid-19th Century there was no international treaty on whaling. But on the high seas, there was a general understanding: a “fish” (whale in this context) that is attached in any way to a vessel with a live human crew on board, or bears a marker identifying any specific ship as having taken it in the hunt, belongs to that vessel. On the other hand, a “Loose-Fish” is one that has drifted away dead, or swum away wounded, from a whaling operation with no sign of “fastness” apparent. That “fish” is subject to “Finders keeper, losers weeper.” [My own paraphrase for modern times, not Melville’s construct.] The final paragraph (pg. 310) of this chapter is what interests me most: “What are the Rights of Man [espoused by the French Revolution, influenced by Thomas Paine—GL] and the Liberties of the World but Loose-Fish? What all men’s minds and opinions but Loose-Fish? What is the principle of religious belief in them but Loose-Fish? What to the ostentatious smuggling verbalists are the thoughts of thinkers but Loose-Fish? What is the great globe itself but a Loose-Fish? And what are you, reader, but a Loose-Fish and a Fast-Fish, too?” If not for moments like this, I would likely have succumbed by Chapter 89 to the temptation to toss this tome aside. After all, one only has just so many years to one’s life. I chucked James Joyce’s Ulysses after getting well beyond halfway, because his prose had turned to mere gibberish.
Eleventh Observation. In Chapter 105, Ishmael reckons that Man could never drive the whale to extinction, the seas are so teeming with the creatures. For support, he reckons the same for the elephant. Ouch, bad choice there, Herman, from our present perspective. I am merely commenting on the unintended cruel irony of these reckonings, not blaming Melville for failing to have a crystal ball tuned to the future. But in the next chapter, I gotcha, Herman! Here he has erred grievously in his narrative. For he has Ishmael somehow peer into Ahab’s innermost private thoughts. This is the job of the famous “omniscient narrator” of a work of fiction, and suddenly that’s how Melville is writing, instead of as his protagonist Ishmael, who’s supposed to be reporting simply what he sees and hears on his voyage and his own reactions to events. Ahab has not revealed these thoughts via a soliloquy as characters have done previously, nor does a third party inform Ishmael he heard the captain muttering this or that to himself. Another 15-yard penalty, Herman!
Twelfth Observation. Chapter 117, pg. 377. On Ahab’s whaleboat, attached to a slain whale the crew couldn’t tow to the Pequod in daylight hours, the captain converses with ‘the Parsee’ deep in the night. I hadn’t quite grasped earlier who this character is. It is none other than Fedallah, headman of Ahab’s private crew of “Manillans.” But a little research shows that Parsees are from India, and follow Zoroastrianism, a religion of ancient Persia; so the headman is not Filipino. Fedallah now prophesies that Ahab can only die “by hemp.” Since most every literate speaker of English knows how this novel will end, we grasp the meaning of this. But Ahab interprets it as meaning he will be hanged on the gallows some day, ashore, and thus if he stays at sea permanently he will be “immortal on land and on sea!” Bad call, old chap. And another 15-yard penalty for Melville! This private conversation (the other oarsmen of the small boat being asleep) can’t possibly be known to Ishmael, as he is not aboard this whaleboat. Around this point in the tale, we are presented another uncompleted narrative. It’s discovered that one or more of the casks of whale oil being stored in the hold is leaking. To find the source, the crew is ordered to haul every cask topside for examination in the daylight, an exhausting undertaking. But we aren’t told if the leak was found, or of the effort required to load everything back down below decks. In Chapter 119, pgs. 382/3, Ahab delivers a preposterously verbose, melodramatic speech during a raging typhoon. Starbuck urges they set sail for home, abandoning the mad quest for the White Whale. Ahab will hear nothing of it. In Chapter 123, Starbuck actually contemplates murdering the captain as he sleeps in his cabin, or imprisoning him (which would be mutiny), so does he fear the outcome of this mission to slay Moby Dick. The whole crew may perish, he sincerely believes. But he can’t bring himself to take such an action. In succeeding chapters, Starbuck continues to attempt to sway Ahab to turn the Pequod toward home, but in vain. Ahab is taking to incoherent mutterings, even admitting he’s gone mad. The final confrontation with the White Whale approacheth!
Thirteenth (lucky!) and Final Observation. Chapter 134: Having finally found his whale in the South Pacific, near the Equator, Ahab puts the Pequod in pursuit. So powerful is the beast that it can outdistance any vessel for prolonged periods, harpoons and lances from previous hunts still embedded in his flesh, dragging numerous lines in his wake. On Day 2 of Ahab’s final pursuit, all the boats launched are smashed by blows from Moby’s tail flukes or ramming by his enormous head. The captain’s peg leg, even, is broken and will have to be replaced by the ship’s carpenter. But the only fatality is Fedallah, tangled up in harpoon lines and pulled to his death. This upsets Ahab, as ‘the Parsee’ had made prophecies Ahab bought into and the latter expected the former to be present for the very last confrontation. Starbuck again begs, this time in Christ’s name, to abandon the pursuit. Fat chance! All this action is described as from the “God’s eye view,” or Omniscient Narrator. Where the devil is Ishmael? On to Day 3 of the chase we go (Chapter 135). The crew has worked through the night to cobble back together some functional whaleboats. The whale is again sighted and pursued, and again all boats smashed up, excepting Ahab’s. The ship’s best harpooneers are all aboard the Pequod now, having been plucked from the drink, which is now teeming with sharks. And now Ahab sees the remains of Fedallah, entangled in lines (ropes of hemp), effectively lashed to Moby Dick’s side. The dreaded leviathan now makes a run at the Pequod herself, intent on ramming and taking her down. Despite these very fast-moving developments, Ahab and the three Mates all find time to deliver verbose soliloquies, which is rather ludicrous, frankly. The Pequod’s hull is breached and she’s going down fast. Ahab still hopes to sink additional harpoons and lances in his foe’s flanks, but Moby’s circling about in the sea causes a loop of rope to go around Ahab’s neck and in a flash, he’s gone. Thus, he has “died by hemp,” in effect hanged at sea rather than on land. I now grasp that in John Huston’s movie version, the image of Fedallah lashed to the whale was transferred to Ahab, who is still stabbing with all his fury at the whale as he’s pulled below the sea. A dramatic image, but unfaithful to Melville. In a brief Epilogue, we learn that Ishmael was in Ahab’s boat, Fedallah’s replacement I suppose, for this final action. Our narrator was far enough from the Pequod to not be sucked down with her as she created a whirlpool sinking to Davy Jones’s Locker. All the rest of the crew has perished, even the robust harpooneers. That doesn’t seem plausible to this reader. And now, a wooden float conveniently bobs to the surface, clinging to which Ishmael survives until he is rescued a couple days later by another whaling vessel the Pequod had previously encountered. So this whale of a tale comes down to us from the pen of the sole survivor of Ahab’s mad mission. And what became of the teeming sharks?! Will Ishmael plan to ever put to sea again after this? No hint. And we never did learn in what language the captain communicated with his Filipino private crew—Spanish? Tagalog? Melville’s sloppiness with details haunts the book right to the closing page.
SUMMATION: Here we have a tale of a man so consumed by hatred for a non-human being, which offended him so by taking a lower leg in the act of defending itself against barbarous assaults, that he has cost the lives of about thirty men. My own sympathy, certainly, lies with the whale. There is no lack of hubris in Ahab, either. “Immortal on land and on sea,” eh? In the time of Donald J. Trump—an individual consumed with hatred for 99.99999% of creation, dedicated to his mission of making our world a worse place, and boasting superhuman hubris (are ye "immortal on land and on sea," o Donald?!)—perhaps we can draw a new moral from Melville’s story. First Mate Starbuck’s courage failed him when it was most needed: Had he killed Ahab, or at least had led a mutinous revolt and terminated the Pequod’s mad mission, provided a benign Neptune looked on, there would have been happy family reunions back at home port of Nantucket. There have been a number of potential Starbucks in the Trump administration, including retired generals, who made noises about the sickness at the core of that operation, but lacked the guts to do anything to try to abort the mission.
I am compelled to report that I regret having expended the time and effort to absorb this infamous literary work. I am not inspired to pursue other works by the author. That said, I will plow through additional hundreds of pages of supplemental material in this Norton Critical Edition to study the insights of other readers. However, I reserve the right to just skim, or skip over, sections that aren’t compelling. But before I tackle that, o shipmates, I will take a breather from this tall, tall tale!
END
A bit of a change of pace . . . a rare stab at poetry and a "thought experiment"
Published June 30, 2020
John Brown, hanged by the United States Government for trying to abolish slavery by force of arms. The Civil War broke out not long afterward.
I WISH THERE WERE A RAGING GOD IN HEAVEN
I wish there were a Raging God in Heaven
Raging like John Brown, his great beard billowing
Storming over the plains of Kansas
In a cause most righteous
Who thirsts for Justice
Instead of hatching minutely detailed schemes
For tormenting eternally the souls of those who doubt Him
I wish there were a Raging God in Heaven
Whose eye was on George Floyd
And the other victims of brutality
With as much concern as for the Sparrow
To punish those whose worship of Mammon
Leads to the slaughter of elephants and whales
And innumerable other beautiful creatures
I wish there were a Raging God in Heaven
And a flaming Hell into which to cast
The hypocrites most vile
Who preach Hate in His name
I wish there were a Raging God in Heaven
But alas, I can find not a shred of evidence
That He actually exists
Yet still . . .
I wish there were a Raging God in Heaven
* * *
Albert Einstein, whose astonishing insights came before the instruments of Science existed to confirm their accuracy.
Albert Einstein, whose astonishing insights came before the instruments of Science existed to confirm their accuracy.
Proposal for a modest thought experiment ...
In the spirit of Albert Einstein, let’s try a little thought experiment. We will take Homer (the Greek poet, not Mr. Simpson!), William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, John Donne, Virginia Woolf, Francis Bacon, Toni Morrison, Charles Dickens, James Baldwin, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Ursula K. LeGuin, Lord Byron and J.K. Rowling (she has quite an imagination, after all) and seal them hermetically in a chamber containing just enough oxygen to keep them alive for 48 hours. They’ll have all the paper and writing implements they could wish for. (Since this is a thought experiment, we won’t worry about language differences, sleeping accommodations, food, water or bathroom facilities.) We will challenge them to work collectively and/or individually to come up with words to adequately describe the depth and breadth of the VILENESS of Donald J. Trump. We’ll give them a button to press to signal they’ve succeeded in their stupendous challenge. How do you think things will turn out? My prediction: After 48 hours, we will have a chamber containing 15 famous writers dead of oxygen deprivation.
END
Posted May 14, 2020
"News Bulletin from the Future"
Introduction: During my first stint as a Jazz radio broadcaster in the late 1980s/early 1990s, I instituted a “slightly controversial” non-musical segment called “News Bulletin from the Future.” These were brief satirical segments commenting on socio-historical trends and events of the time. I briefly resurrect the practice with the following post:
"News Bulletin from the Future"
Introduction: During my first stint as a Jazz radio broadcaster in the late 1980s/early 1990s, I instituted a “slightly controversial” non-musical segment called “News Bulletin from the Future.” These were brief satirical segments commenting on socio-historical trends and events of the time. I briefly resurrect the practice with the following post:
Donald J. Trump, June 14, 1946 to July 4, 2022
DONALD J. TRUMP, CONTROVERSIAL A**HOLE AND 45TH PRESIDENT OF UNITED STATES, DEAD AT 76. GLOBAL WEEK OF CELEBRATION CALLED FOR BY U.N.
Cause of death believed to be “an Imploded Ego,” baffling medical experts. “One for the medical textbooks” declares leading authority on mortality
Special to the New York Times
July 4, 2022 THE FLORIDA WHITE HOUSE, MAR-A-LAGO Donald John Trump, 45th President of the United States of America, died today at the Florida White House according to official sources. The New York Times was unable to directly confirm the report due to the Exclusionary Zone of five miles radius imposed on its personnel by the administration. The announcement came from the president’s daughter, Ivanka Trump Kushner, who has jointly held all Cabinet posts with her husband, Jared Kushner, for the past six months. Mr. Trump was about 18 months into the extension of his initial term in office, an extension he authorized after canceling the elections scheduled for November of 2020, purportedly over concerns for public safety resulting from the Covid-19 virus pandemic. All attempts to overturn the extension by Congress were thwarted in hearings before the Supreme Court of the United States by 5-4 votes, the ultra-conservative appointees to that court prevailing.
Ms. Kushner stated “It is an extra tragedy, of course, that the president passed away on this glorious National Holiday, the anniversary of the birth of the greatest nation in the history of the world. All true Americans are deeply saddened by this event. As for Democrats, that’s another story. Because, you know, they’re not Americans.”
Dr. Davis Logsdon, of the University of Minnesota Medical School, recognized as America’s leading authority on causes of death, stated in an exclusive interview for this publication: “At first, we in the Morbidity/Mortality community were like ‘Whoa! What the hell’s going on here?!’ This is the first known case in history of an Imploded Ego leading directly to death, we believe. Given that the Ego is an invisible component of an individual’s psychological makeup, this was a very difficult diagnosis to arrive at. But by process of elimination of all other plausible causes of mortality, this is what the medical community has arrived at.”
When pressed for additional detail, Dr. Logsdon explained that he was not in a position to fully explain the phenomenon, but had discussed the matter in some depth with leading clinical psychologists and psychiatrists. “The consensus view appears to be that the fatal blow to Mr. Trump’s Ego was delivered by his spouse’s suit seeking divorce on grounds of ‘I no longer wish to be married to that flaming a**hole!’” Anonymous sources in the legal community told this publication that it was highly unlikely the courts would have sided with Melania Trump in this action. “Especially,” one of them stated flatly, “since Trump had by now appointed some 70 percent of actively sitting Appeals Court Justices.” There is additional speculation that Mr. Trump’s ego had been bruised when the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the Armed Forces of the United States had stated that the president’s desired July Fourth Parade in the nation’s Capital would once again not be possible, due to the surge of US military personnel into Afghanistan earlier this year. “The tanks just are not available again, like last year” General Mark Milley had informed Mr. Trump.
Shortly after the official announcement of Mr. Trump’s passing, the General Assembly of the United Nations nearly unanimously approved a resolution calling for a week-long global celebration of not the life, but the death of, the 45th President. The only “No” votes were cast by the representatives of Israel, Poland, Hungary, The Philippines and Brazil. The Russian Federation voted “Abstain.” Since the resolution cannot be enforced, the Security Council was not involved. The United States of America, of course, had withdrawn from all UN entities and activities early in Trump’s “second” term.
En route to being sworn in as the 46th President, Vice President Mike Pence would only comment on the unusual circumstances of Mr. Trump’s departure that “The Lord works in mysterious ways.” A far more remarkable comment has reportedly been made by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, at his headquarters-in-exile in northern India. A press statement appearing on official stationery read simply: “We Buddhists do not relish or rejoice at the death of any individual human being. But as the saying goes, ‘There are exceptions to every rule.’ So good riddance to that miserable piece of [excrement]! Let’s party, world!” The statement appeared to be completely authentic. At the Vatican, Pope Francis has thus far been silent, though the Holy Father reportedly has been sighted strolling the halls of his compound with a “mystical” smile on his face.
The former Majority Leader of the US House of Representatives, Nancy Pelosi, reached for comment by satellite phone on the tiny South Pacific island to which President Trump exiled her in February 2021, would only say: “Donald Trump and I had our differences, sure, but one must respect the majesty of the office of the President. I am devastated at the news of this untimely death.” After stating that, just before the phone connection was terminated, what sounded like cackling laughter could be heard, followed by what sounded like “Pass that champagne this way, bud!” Meanwhile, the nation and the world await release of the official details of the funeral and burial protocol. It is believed Mr. Trump will be interred at Mar-a-Lago, Florida. A full obituary of Donald J. Trump will appear in this publication as soon as possible.
* * *
[Note to Andy Borowitz: Yes, I borrowed the name 'Davis Logsdon' from you. You wanna sue? I could use the publicity!]
END
July 4, 2022 THE FLORIDA WHITE HOUSE, MAR-A-LAGO Donald John Trump, 45th President of the United States of America, died today at the Florida White House according to official sources. The New York Times was unable to directly confirm the report due to the Exclusionary Zone of five miles radius imposed on its personnel by the administration. The announcement came from the president’s daughter, Ivanka Trump Kushner, who has jointly held all Cabinet posts with her husband, Jared Kushner, for the past six months. Mr. Trump was about 18 months into the extension of his initial term in office, an extension he authorized after canceling the elections scheduled for November of 2020, purportedly over concerns for public safety resulting from the Covid-19 virus pandemic. All attempts to overturn the extension by Congress were thwarted in hearings before the Supreme Court of the United States by 5-4 votes, the ultra-conservative appointees to that court prevailing.
Ms. Kushner stated “It is an extra tragedy, of course, that the president passed away on this glorious National Holiday, the anniversary of the birth of the greatest nation in the history of the world. All true Americans are deeply saddened by this event. As for Democrats, that’s another story. Because, you know, they’re not Americans.”
Dr. Davis Logsdon, of the University of Minnesota Medical School, recognized as America’s leading authority on causes of death, stated in an exclusive interview for this publication: “At first, we in the Morbidity/Mortality community were like ‘Whoa! What the hell’s going on here?!’ This is the first known case in history of an Imploded Ego leading directly to death, we believe. Given that the Ego is an invisible component of an individual’s psychological makeup, this was a very difficult diagnosis to arrive at. But by process of elimination of all other plausible causes of mortality, this is what the medical community has arrived at.”
When pressed for additional detail, Dr. Logsdon explained that he was not in a position to fully explain the phenomenon, but had discussed the matter in some depth with leading clinical psychologists and psychiatrists. “The consensus view appears to be that the fatal blow to Mr. Trump’s Ego was delivered by his spouse’s suit seeking divorce on grounds of ‘I no longer wish to be married to that flaming a**hole!’” Anonymous sources in the legal community told this publication that it was highly unlikely the courts would have sided with Melania Trump in this action. “Especially,” one of them stated flatly, “since Trump had by now appointed some 70 percent of actively sitting Appeals Court Justices.” There is additional speculation that Mr. Trump’s ego had been bruised when the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the Armed Forces of the United States had stated that the president’s desired July Fourth Parade in the nation’s Capital would once again not be possible, due to the surge of US military personnel into Afghanistan earlier this year. “The tanks just are not available again, like last year” General Mark Milley had informed Mr. Trump.
Shortly after the official announcement of Mr. Trump’s passing, the General Assembly of the United Nations nearly unanimously approved a resolution calling for a week-long global celebration of not the life, but the death of, the 45th President. The only “No” votes were cast by the representatives of Israel, Poland, Hungary, The Philippines and Brazil. The Russian Federation voted “Abstain.” Since the resolution cannot be enforced, the Security Council was not involved. The United States of America, of course, had withdrawn from all UN entities and activities early in Trump’s “second” term.
En route to being sworn in as the 46th President, Vice President Mike Pence would only comment on the unusual circumstances of Mr. Trump’s departure that “The Lord works in mysterious ways.” A far more remarkable comment has reportedly been made by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, at his headquarters-in-exile in northern India. A press statement appearing on official stationery read simply: “We Buddhists do not relish or rejoice at the death of any individual human being. But as the saying goes, ‘There are exceptions to every rule.’ So good riddance to that miserable piece of [excrement]! Let’s party, world!” The statement appeared to be completely authentic. At the Vatican, Pope Francis has thus far been silent, though the Holy Father reportedly has been sighted strolling the halls of his compound with a “mystical” smile on his face.
The former Majority Leader of the US House of Representatives, Nancy Pelosi, reached for comment by satellite phone on the tiny South Pacific island to which President Trump exiled her in February 2021, would only say: “Donald Trump and I had our differences, sure, but one must respect the majesty of the office of the President. I am devastated at the news of this untimely death.” After stating that, just before the phone connection was terminated, what sounded like cackling laughter could be heard, followed by what sounded like “Pass that champagne this way, bud!” Meanwhile, the nation and the world await release of the official details of the funeral and burial protocol. It is believed Mr. Trump will be interred at Mar-a-Lago, Florida. A full obituary of Donald J. Trump will appear in this publication as soon as possible.
* * *
[Note to Andy Borowitz: Yes, I borrowed the name 'Davis Logsdon' from you. You wanna sue? I could use the publicity!]
END
The trouble with normal is . . .
Tornado damage in Alabama, 2019 (photo: Getty Images)
Published April 27, 2020
In recent years, as the irrefutable proof of Global Climate Catastrophe continued to thrust itself in our faces--a stubborn, arrogant, conscious embrace of ignorance is required to still try to deny it--and the addition of the ongoing disaster called the Trump presidency added its inescapable weight, I’ve become fond of quoting from Canadian topical singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn: ”The trouble with normal is...it always gets worse.” We’re told daily by the mainstream media how much we’re all longing for a “return to normalcy” as the Covid-19 pandemic stretches on. But what does normal really look like in America today?
The trouble with normal is...it’s the US military maintaining hundreds of installations on foreign soil because the maniacs running the show believe this country must have the ability to project force anywhere, any time, to maintain the profits of monster corporations. This insane policy, called “American Exceptionalism,” was bankrupting the country long before the recent emergency relief packages related to the virus ensured a doubling of the National Debt in short order.
The trouble with normal is...we the potential voters are faced with a “choice” between two political parties that have no solutions to offer to the world’s gravest problems. It isn’t possible at this time to form an alternative party arguing for putting people before profits that would be viable. National policy is now decided by the lobbyists for the largest corporations, who spread their purely self-interested largesse among those in the nation’s capital who supposedly are there to represent “We the people.” We are in “a new Gilded Age” where the gap between those at the top and those at the bottom of the income ladder has never been wider.
The trouble with normal is...law enforcement officers are still all too eager to “shoot first and ask questions later”--if questions are to be asked at all--when they have young African-American males in their gun sights. The United States still leads the world in number of individuals incarcerated and in parole or probation status.
The trouble with normal is...millions of people lack healthcare insurance and the Democratic Party establishment has erected a very high wall against the concept of Medicare For All (I prefer to call it Universal Healthcare). Needless to say, the Republicans are even more vehemently opposed to the notion that healthcare should be a universal human right.
The trouble with normal is...millions of Americans have become addicted to opioids and other mind-numbing substances. This reality has not magically vanished just because the Covid-19 crisis has pushed it out of the headlines.
The trouble with normal is...women are still grossly underpaid in the workplace compared to men doing essentially identical jobs. I believe the most recent statistics I’ve seen are that white women get about 80% of their male counterparts and women of color no more than 70%.
The trouble with normal is...planet Earth, our only home, is increasingly being devastated by the impact of human industrial activity and wasteful consumption habits. We crossed the Rubicon many years ago, ensuring that global temperatures will continue to rise even if use of fossil fuels was greatly reduced immediately--a practical impossibility, of course, because of the dominance of the energy industry conveniently acquired by the Exxon/Mobils of the world. The impact of humans continues to drive other species to extinction at a pace far greater than the natural rate provided by evolutionary forces. All this damage presents new opportunities for pathogens not previously plaguing humans.
The trouble with normal is...that it is considered normal for the citizens of the most powerful and influential nation on Earth, one whose policies impact everyone in the world directly or indirectly, to tolerate this normalcy. We have one political party that has been taken over by crazies, whose partisans cheer on every harmful policy enacted by their president--more mercury to be dumped into the environment? “Hooray!”--while the other has become (conveniently for the Established Order)--incapable of putting up an effective resistance to ongoing deterioration in every aspect of our society. Whither our beleaguered planet? Don’t look to the USA to lead the world out of this decay toward a brighter future.
Do these thoughts leave you depressed? Then think about doing something about the situation!! Recognize that there is virtually no wisdom in “the conventional wisdom.” Resist the pressure to accept “normalcy”!
END
In recent years, as the irrefutable proof of Global Climate Catastrophe continued to thrust itself in our faces--a stubborn, arrogant, conscious embrace of ignorance is required to still try to deny it--and the addition of the ongoing disaster called the Trump presidency added its inescapable weight, I’ve become fond of quoting from Canadian topical singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn: ”The trouble with normal is...it always gets worse.” We’re told daily by the mainstream media how much we’re all longing for a “return to normalcy” as the Covid-19 pandemic stretches on. But what does normal really look like in America today?
The trouble with normal is...it’s the US military maintaining hundreds of installations on foreign soil because the maniacs running the show believe this country must have the ability to project force anywhere, any time, to maintain the profits of monster corporations. This insane policy, called “American Exceptionalism,” was bankrupting the country long before the recent emergency relief packages related to the virus ensured a doubling of the National Debt in short order.
The trouble with normal is...we the potential voters are faced with a “choice” between two political parties that have no solutions to offer to the world’s gravest problems. It isn’t possible at this time to form an alternative party arguing for putting people before profits that would be viable. National policy is now decided by the lobbyists for the largest corporations, who spread their purely self-interested largesse among those in the nation’s capital who supposedly are there to represent “We the people.” We are in “a new Gilded Age” where the gap between those at the top and those at the bottom of the income ladder has never been wider.
The trouble with normal is...law enforcement officers are still all too eager to “shoot first and ask questions later”--if questions are to be asked at all--when they have young African-American males in their gun sights. The United States still leads the world in number of individuals incarcerated and in parole or probation status.
The trouble with normal is...millions of people lack healthcare insurance and the Democratic Party establishment has erected a very high wall against the concept of Medicare For All (I prefer to call it Universal Healthcare). Needless to say, the Republicans are even more vehemently opposed to the notion that healthcare should be a universal human right.
The trouble with normal is...millions of Americans have become addicted to opioids and other mind-numbing substances. This reality has not magically vanished just because the Covid-19 crisis has pushed it out of the headlines.
The trouble with normal is...women are still grossly underpaid in the workplace compared to men doing essentially identical jobs. I believe the most recent statistics I’ve seen are that white women get about 80% of their male counterparts and women of color no more than 70%.
The trouble with normal is...planet Earth, our only home, is increasingly being devastated by the impact of human industrial activity and wasteful consumption habits. We crossed the Rubicon many years ago, ensuring that global temperatures will continue to rise even if use of fossil fuels was greatly reduced immediately--a practical impossibility, of course, because of the dominance of the energy industry conveniently acquired by the Exxon/Mobils of the world. The impact of humans continues to drive other species to extinction at a pace far greater than the natural rate provided by evolutionary forces. All this damage presents new opportunities for pathogens not previously plaguing humans.
The trouble with normal is...that it is considered normal for the citizens of the most powerful and influential nation on Earth, one whose policies impact everyone in the world directly or indirectly, to tolerate this normalcy. We have one political party that has been taken over by crazies, whose partisans cheer on every harmful policy enacted by their president--more mercury to be dumped into the environment? “Hooray!”--while the other has become (conveniently for the Established Order)--incapable of putting up an effective resistance to ongoing deterioration in every aspect of our society. Whither our beleaguered planet? Don’t look to the USA to lead the world out of this decay toward a brighter future.
Do these thoughts leave you depressed? Then think about doing something about the situation!! Recognize that there is virtually no wisdom in “the conventional wisdom.” Resist the pressure to accept “normalcy”!
END
Not quite random thoughts for a virus pandemic . . .
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George Harrison: somehow he understood! |
Published March 26, 2020
This article is not intended as a criticism of Donald J. Trump per se. Future historians will judge very harshly the leadership of the guy who tried to laugh off a deadly pandemic, then spun on a dime to try to appear on top of things when he realized this event will tank the US economy, thus jeopardizing his chance for re-election come November.
Science has been one of my greatest passions since childhood and I want to share some of what I’ve learned over the decades. Above all, understand this: human greed and hubris have put us on an accelerating path to global catastrophe. Indeed, for some time now I have been designating the climate change situation as not merely a crisis, but a Global Catastrophe. We are part of what is sometimes called the Great Web of Life. This is a concept derived from Deep Ecology: all species interact with others, and a significant disruption to the Web can have a major impact on all of us. In the past, there have been mass extinctions on Earth caused by external phenomena like asteroids striking the planet. This thesis, once deemed fanciful, is now accepted scientific fact. We are currently witnessing the first mass extinction of animal and plant species undeniably caused by the activities of humans (an anthropogenic, or human-caused phenomenon). In the world Mother Nature made, there are no “good” or “bad” species, A parasite that attacks a specific animal is harmful to that individual species, but usually neutral in the bigger picture. It may even be benign for people by slowing the population growth rate of an insect--say, the grasshopper--that is capable of decimating humans’ food crops. The greatest tragedy in the history of planet Earth is that a relatively new species, Homo sapiens (Latin for “Man who Knows”--but does he really know?), arose and developed technological processes that spewed toxins into the environment we all must share. Toxins that have essentially polluted the whole planet, and gaseous byproducts that have induced the warming of the world at a pace exceeding any natural processes that have altered the climate in eons past. Those people who still try to deny this are either 1.) the paid tools of polluting industries; or 2.) grossly (conveniently?) ignorant of how the Natural World works. I’m afraid explanation number two applies to all too many of our fellow citizens here in the US.
Am I arguing against technological progress? Not at all. The problem is how technology has been employed, with corporate profits pursued at the expense of our collective health. This is, of course, an issue of how society is organized. Our society is organized to overwhelmingly benefit the tiny, tiny sliver at the top of the “economic food chain.” I won’t belabor this point, for sake of brevity. I am a Socialist. Enough said.
Entities entirely invisible to our naked eyes play an incalculably huge role in Nature. (In this sense, Trump was correct to characterize Covid-19 as “an invisible enemy.” Hey, a broken analog clock is right twice a day, yes?) We could not digest the food we consume without the help of the untold billions of bacteria that share our intestines. The latest scientific thinking is that up to a trillion microscopic “beings” inhabit a typical human body, on our surface (skin) and inside us. Our very body cells--I’m here generalizing about living beings on the whole--are believed to have “taken in” even smaller entities very early in the chain of evolution and formed symbiotic relationships. The mitochondrial bodies that provide our internal energy are suspected to fit this bill.
Where do viruses fit in to the Web of Life? Viruses are a devilishly tricky arena for study. Are they even alive, in the sense we understand that condition? They are self-reproducing “machines,” in essence, which enslave healthy cells they’ve invaded and put them at their own “selfish” service. But to what end? Does a virus have a “will to live”? What drives this behavior, if we may even call it that? That is one of the mysteries Science has yet to resolve. Looking at life on an even more fundamental basis, we have learned that the precursors to life--organic or quasi-organic chemical substances--appear to be abundant in outer space. These are the building blocks of amino acids, which in turn are the building blocks of the proteins out of which vegetable and animal life is built. In famous experiments dating back to at least the 1950s, a recreation in a sealed chamber of what Earth’s primeval atmosphere is believed to have consisted of yielded these organic compounds when subjected to heat and an electrical charge. There is every reason to believe that life is anything but unique to our planet. But will humans survive long enough to confirm the existence of life elsewhere? Or will we perish at our own hands as our environment--and it is our environment, there are no other options--continues to deteriorate?
Just how this latest viral menace initially infected people is still unclear. Its characteristic that is most menacing is its ability to easily, very rapidly spread where human populations are densest. Viruses have an additional, worrying characteristic: they can mutate very quickly to foil attempts to fight them through medications. Viruses may have been the very first entities, whether we can consider them “living beings” or not, which launched the long evolution that led to our planet’s present diversity of life forms. Ah, diversity! Members of the Modern Republican Party don’t like it! But the Natural World, upon whose Web of Life we all depend, is nothing if not the very definition of diversity. And each day this diversity dwindles a bit more, thanks to the activities of unthinking, unfeeling humans. The cumulative, snowballing effect, just as with global warming, will have ever more dire consequences for us as time goes by. The warming of the planet itself, at an unnatural pace, triggers changes in the makeup of the Web, unleashing new infectious menaces. One of the subtle concepts of Deep Ecology is how little a change may be required to make a region formerly too cold on average to sustain a given organism into a playground for reproduction and spreading infection. I read in the New York Times the other day that over 6800 different viruses have been identified, but there may still be trillions--yes, trillions--as yet unknown to Science.
Viruses have been with us from “the beginning of time.” They are clearly here to stay. What need not be with us permanently is a president grossly ignorant of scientific concepts, pandering to a base of ignoramuses who cheer on his every revolting statement and action. I happen to have received in today’s mail a postcard from the Centers for Disease Control offering “President Trump’s Coronavirus Guidelines for America”!! Yes, President Trump’s guidelines! A highlighted section reads as follows: “Even if you are young, or otherwise healthy, you are at risk and your activities can increase the risk for others.” The statement is dated March 16, 2020. With a week gone by, now Mr. Trump is eager to get everybody back to work! Back to “normalcy,” that is, Trickle-Down Economics. It doesn’t take a genius, stable or otherwise, to figure out that, with confirmed cases still soaring in some parts of the country, it is way too soon to propose such a thing.
The late George Harrison somehow had grasped the Web of Life concept when he penned “Within You Without You” for the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album.
“And the time will come when you see we're all one
And life flows on within you and without you”
Note that “without you” can also mean “outside you.” As in all those bacteria normally living on our skin. Clever chap, that George!
END
This article is not intended as a criticism of Donald J. Trump per se. Future historians will judge very harshly the leadership of the guy who tried to laugh off a deadly pandemic, then spun on a dime to try to appear on top of things when he realized this event will tank the US economy, thus jeopardizing his chance for re-election come November.
Science has been one of my greatest passions since childhood and I want to share some of what I’ve learned over the decades. Above all, understand this: human greed and hubris have put us on an accelerating path to global catastrophe. Indeed, for some time now I have been designating the climate change situation as not merely a crisis, but a Global Catastrophe. We are part of what is sometimes called the Great Web of Life. This is a concept derived from Deep Ecology: all species interact with others, and a significant disruption to the Web can have a major impact on all of us. In the past, there have been mass extinctions on Earth caused by external phenomena like asteroids striking the planet. This thesis, once deemed fanciful, is now accepted scientific fact. We are currently witnessing the first mass extinction of animal and plant species undeniably caused by the activities of humans (an anthropogenic, or human-caused phenomenon). In the world Mother Nature made, there are no “good” or “bad” species, A parasite that attacks a specific animal is harmful to that individual species, but usually neutral in the bigger picture. It may even be benign for people by slowing the population growth rate of an insect--say, the grasshopper--that is capable of decimating humans’ food crops. The greatest tragedy in the history of planet Earth is that a relatively new species, Homo sapiens (Latin for “Man who Knows”--but does he really know?), arose and developed technological processes that spewed toxins into the environment we all must share. Toxins that have essentially polluted the whole planet, and gaseous byproducts that have induced the warming of the world at a pace exceeding any natural processes that have altered the climate in eons past. Those people who still try to deny this are either 1.) the paid tools of polluting industries; or 2.) grossly (conveniently?) ignorant of how the Natural World works. I’m afraid explanation number two applies to all too many of our fellow citizens here in the US.
Am I arguing against technological progress? Not at all. The problem is how technology has been employed, with corporate profits pursued at the expense of our collective health. This is, of course, an issue of how society is organized. Our society is organized to overwhelmingly benefit the tiny, tiny sliver at the top of the “economic food chain.” I won’t belabor this point, for sake of brevity. I am a Socialist. Enough said.
Entities entirely invisible to our naked eyes play an incalculably huge role in Nature. (In this sense, Trump was correct to characterize Covid-19 as “an invisible enemy.” Hey, a broken analog clock is right twice a day, yes?) We could not digest the food we consume without the help of the untold billions of bacteria that share our intestines. The latest scientific thinking is that up to a trillion microscopic “beings” inhabit a typical human body, on our surface (skin) and inside us. Our very body cells--I’m here generalizing about living beings on the whole--are believed to have “taken in” even smaller entities very early in the chain of evolution and formed symbiotic relationships. The mitochondrial bodies that provide our internal energy are suspected to fit this bill.
Where do viruses fit in to the Web of Life? Viruses are a devilishly tricky arena for study. Are they even alive, in the sense we understand that condition? They are self-reproducing “machines,” in essence, which enslave healthy cells they’ve invaded and put them at their own “selfish” service. But to what end? Does a virus have a “will to live”? What drives this behavior, if we may even call it that? That is one of the mysteries Science has yet to resolve. Looking at life on an even more fundamental basis, we have learned that the precursors to life--organic or quasi-organic chemical substances--appear to be abundant in outer space. These are the building blocks of amino acids, which in turn are the building blocks of the proteins out of which vegetable and animal life is built. In famous experiments dating back to at least the 1950s, a recreation in a sealed chamber of what Earth’s primeval atmosphere is believed to have consisted of yielded these organic compounds when subjected to heat and an electrical charge. There is every reason to believe that life is anything but unique to our planet. But will humans survive long enough to confirm the existence of life elsewhere? Or will we perish at our own hands as our environment--and it is our environment, there are no other options--continues to deteriorate?
Just how this latest viral menace initially infected people is still unclear. Its characteristic that is most menacing is its ability to easily, very rapidly spread where human populations are densest. Viruses have an additional, worrying characteristic: they can mutate very quickly to foil attempts to fight them through medications. Viruses may have been the very first entities, whether we can consider them “living beings” or not, which launched the long evolution that led to our planet’s present diversity of life forms. Ah, diversity! Members of the Modern Republican Party don’t like it! But the Natural World, upon whose Web of Life we all depend, is nothing if not the very definition of diversity. And each day this diversity dwindles a bit more, thanks to the activities of unthinking, unfeeling humans. The cumulative, snowballing effect, just as with global warming, will have ever more dire consequences for us as time goes by. The warming of the planet itself, at an unnatural pace, triggers changes in the makeup of the Web, unleashing new infectious menaces. One of the subtle concepts of Deep Ecology is how little a change may be required to make a region formerly too cold on average to sustain a given organism into a playground for reproduction and spreading infection. I read in the New York Times the other day that over 6800 different viruses have been identified, but there may still be trillions--yes, trillions--as yet unknown to Science.
Viruses have been with us from “the beginning of time.” They are clearly here to stay. What need not be with us permanently is a president grossly ignorant of scientific concepts, pandering to a base of ignoramuses who cheer on his every revolting statement and action. I happen to have received in today’s mail a postcard from the Centers for Disease Control offering “President Trump’s Coronavirus Guidelines for America”!! Yes, President Trump’s guidelines! A highlighted section reads as follows: “Even if you are young, or otherwise healthy, you are at risk and your activities can increase the risk for others.” The statement is dated March 16, 2020. With a week gone by, now Mr. Trump is eager to get everybody back to work! Back to “normalcy,” that is, Trickle-Down Economics. It doesn’t take a genius, stable or otherwise, to figure out that, with confirmed cases still soaring in some parts of the country, it is way too soon to propose such a thing.
The late George Harrison somehow had grasped the Web of Life concept when he penned “Within You Without You” for the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album.
“And the time will come when you see we're all one
And life flows on within you and without you”
Note that “without you” can also mean “outside you.” As in all those bacteria normally living on our skin. Clever chap, that George!
END
"The Picture of Dorian Trump": an exercise in literary speculation . . .
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Published March 10, 2020
If you are not familiar with Oscar Wilde’s 1890 novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray (several movie versions have been made over the decades, probably the best known being the 1945 production starring George Sanders), here is a synopsis [courtesy of Wikipedia, paraphrased by myself]: Dorian, an “upwardly-mobile” privileged young fop, is having his portrait painted. Clearly he believes he is already destined to become a “gentleman of substance.” Lord Henry Wotton, an acquaintance of the family, is observing the process. Wotton espouses his personal philosophy that all that really matters in life is beauty and pleasure (hedonism as a way of life). This is easy for the very privileged, since they likely already live off Daddy’s wealth with a guaranteed annual income of X number of Pounds Sterling.
Dorian decides Lord Wotton is onto something with this philosophy. He makes a fervent wish that only the portrait should age as the years go by. Gray then plunges into rounds of debauchery of increasing depth. He’s got nothing but free time in his little privileged world, after all. If there are any calluses on Dorian’s hands, they’re from clutching a hand mirror so he can admire his own face. Narcissism. Sound familiar? After some time, Gray notices that the portrait is indeed changing, but more than merely showing age, it is starting to show the ugliness of how the protagonist has treated the less-privileged people he is exploiting in search of sexual and other pleasures. So he locks the painting away in a room never entered by servants or acquaintances.
More time passes and Dorian Gray has become a most unpleasant excuse for a human being. His actions lead to several deaths and, peeking at the secluded portrait of a once handsome young man, he finds the face has become downright hideous in appearance, as if to reflect all his real-life sins, his excesses and cruelty. He vows to reform himself and actually makes changes in his lifestyle, but for the sole motivation of restoring the portrait to its original state of male beauty. He has committed murders—including that of the painter of the portrait—and driven others to suicide. Offenses not so easily reversed. Seeing that the painting has only become more hideous, he plunges a knife into it and falls dead himself of the wound. In this famous ending, the portrait miraculously is restored to its original state while the face of the dead Dorian Gray is now hideously disfigured.
Let us now ponder Donald J. Trump, child of privilege. Shielded from the Vietnam Era draft by a supposed diagnosis of “bone spurs” of the heels, he would become the ultimate heel himself. Building a real estate empire, founded with Daddy’s money and increasingly funded with borrowed money—loans to be defaulted on. Never big enough to satisfy The Donald. Hiring the best lawyers money could buy, he and his organization would wriggle off the hook when prosecuted for racial discrimination in housing unit rentals. Bigger, got to get bigger. Stiffing subcontractors on the construction projects. By his own boasts, pursuing sexual pleasure with any woman he found attractive who would yield to his advances, sneering at those who wouldn’t submit. Discarding his own trophy wives, one by one.
It was when he decided he should be President of the United States that Trump’s true ugliness emerged. Mexicans are all “rapists and drug smugglers.” Protesters of Trump’s blatant racism should be beaten up and ejected from his campaign events. African-American Members of Congress are “very low-IQ people.” I don’t need to complete this litany of hate, his record speaks so loudly for itself, and it is a truly sad fact that it was precisely this spewing of venom that won him the highest office in the land. We know that The Donald commissioned one or more official portraits earlier in his career. Whether he has been compelled to lock any of them away to hide their deterioration, reflecting the increasingly ugly face he has presented to the world, we cannot know. But if, by some quirk of fate, the Dorian Gray phenomenon is in play with him, I suggest the hidden painting must be too hideous for a mere mortal to gaze upon. The Gorgons of Greek mythology would be beauteous by comparison!
END
If you are not familiar with Oscar Wilde’s 1890 novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray (several movie versions have been made over the decades, probably the best known being the 1945 production starring George Sanders), here is a synopsis [courtesy of Wikipedia, paraphrased by myself]: Dorian, an “upwardly-mobile” privileged young fop, is having his portrait painted. Clearly he believes he is already destined to become a “gentleman of substance.” Lord Henry Wotton, an acquaintance of the family, is observing the process. Wotton espouses his personal philosophy that all that really matters in life is beauty and pleasure (hedonism as a way of life). This is easy for the very privileged, since they likely already live off Daddy’s wealth with a guaranteed annual income of X number of Pounds Sterling.
Dorian decides Lord Wotton is onto something with this philosophy. He makes a fervent wish that only the portrait should age as the years go by. Gray then plunges into rounds of debauchery of increasing depth. He’s got nothing but free time in his little privileged world, after all. If there are any calluses on Dorian’s hands, they’re from clutching a hand mirror so he can admire his own face. Narcissism. Sound familiar? After some time, Gray notices that the portrait is indeed changing, but more than merely showing age, it is starting to show the ugliness of how the protagonist has treated the less-privileged people he is exploiting in search of sexual and other pleasures. So he locks the painting away in a room never entered by servants or acquaintances.
More time passes and Dorian Gray has become a most unpleasant excuse for a human being. His actions lead to several deaths and, peeking at the secluded portrait of a once handsome young man, he finds the face has become downright hideous in appearance, as if to reflect all his real-life sins, his excesses and cruelty. He vows to reform himself and actually makes changes in his lifestyle, but for the sole motivation of restoring the portrait to its original state of male beauty. He has committed murders—including that of the painter of the portrait—and driven others to suicide. Offenses not so easily reversed. Seeing that the painting has only become more hideous, he plunges a knife into it and falls dead himself of the wound. In this famous ending, the portrait miraculously is restored to its original state while the face of the dead Dorian Gray is now hideously disfigured.
Let us now ponder Donald J. Trump, child of privilege. Shielded from the Vietnam Era draft by a supposed diagnosis of “bone spurs” of the heels, he would become the ultimate heel himself. Building a real estate empire, founded with Daddy’s money and increasingly funded with borrowed money—loans to be defaulted on. Never big enough to satisfy The Donald. Hiring the best lawyers money could buy, he and his organization would wriggle off the hook when prosecuted for racial discrimination in housing unit rentals. Bigger, got to get bigger. Stiffing subcontractors on the construction projects. By his own boasts, pursuing sexual pleasure with any woman he found attractive who would yield to his advances, sneering at those who wouldn’t submit. Discarding his own trophy wives, one by one.
It was when he decided he should be President of the United States that Trump’s true ugliness emerged. Mexicans are all “rapists and drug smugglers.” Protesters of Trump’s blatant racism should be beaten up and ejected from his campaign events. African-American Members of Congress are “very low-IQ people.” I don’t need to complete this litany of hate, his record speaks so loudly for itself, and it is a truly sad fact that it was precisely this spewing of venom that won him the highest office in the land. We know that The Donald commissioned one or more official portraits earlier in his career. Whether he has been compelled to lock any of them away to hide their deterioration, reflecting the increasingly ugly face he has presented to the world, we cannot know. But if, by some quirk of fate, the Dorian Gray phenomenon is in play with him, I suggest the hidden painting must be too hideous for a mere mortal to gaze upon. The Gorgons of Greek mythology would be beauteous by comparison!
END
Lang, Mabuse, Goebbels, Trump: a connective thread
French movie poster for Fritz Lang's remarkable The Testament of Dr. Mabuse, 1933.
Published February 18, 2020
While I await the arrival at my local public library of a book I requested from another library in the state, I am filling my reading time with a chunk of Peter Bogdanovich’s 800+ pages Who The Devil Made It—Conversations With Legendary Film Directors. I am struck by some of the statements in Bogdanovich’s 1965 interview with Fritz Lang, which in a way could be said to have foreseen the ascent of Donald Trump as a potent political force.
Born in Austria in 1890 (died 1976), Fritz Lang is best known for Metropolis (1927) and M (c. 1930—a silent version was produced in addition to the “talkie”), with Peter Lorre’s legendary performance as a man compelled by uncontrollable psychological impulses to rape and murder children. But Lang (with his screenwriter wife, Thea von Harbou) was also the creator of the character Doctor Mabuse, with a series of films spanning the silent era right up to 1960. The last film, The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse, I haven’t yet been able to see. Dr. Mabuse was a master criminal who aspired to rule the whole crime underworld and by that means, the society itself. He was said to be a renowned physician and practitioner of hypnotism who crossed the supposedly thin line between genius and insanity. He possessed “paranormal” mental abilities with which he controlled his lieutenants and innocents alike. I was disappointed with Dr. Mabuse the Gambler (1922) after having first viewed The Testament of Dr. Mabuse from 1933. The latter features a marvelous performance by Otto Wernicke as Police Commissar (Chief of Detectives, Homicide Division) Lohmann.
In discussing the character Mabuse in The Testament…, Lang said “I put all the Nazi slogans into the mouth of the ghost of the criminal. [This “ghost” is more like the personality the fiend can project, even transfer, into other people’s minds.] I remember one in the film: ‘The belief of the normal citizen in the powers he has elected must be destroyed. And when everything is destroyed—on this we will build the realm of crime.’ Which is exactly what the Nazis said.” Mabuse launches a campaign of random acts of terror which will leave the populace in constant fear, losing confidence in the established order. The crime syndicate will then offer itself as the only means to restore civil order. Respectable citizens may then sleep in peace at night—provided they meet all the extortion demands of their new “protectors.” Minister of People’s Enlightenment (an actual part of his official title!) and Propaganda Dr. Josef Goebbels viewed this film (Nazi censorship already having been established) and demanded a change to the ending. As Lang told the story, Goebbels then offered to put him in charge of the whole film industry in Germany. After verbally accepting the offer, Lang immediately went home, packed a bag and fled Nazi rule. He would make one film in France, 1934’s Liliom, and then find his way to Hollywood.
A bit further in the conversation, Lang says to Bogdanovich: “Do you realize, by the way, what really made propaganda for the American way of life? American motion pictures. [And it is still true that the majority of Hollywood movies pretend there is no such thing as poverty, racism or class distinctions in our society, and a happy ending is always preferable.] Goebbels understood the enormous power of film as propaganda, and I’m afraid that even today people don’t know what a tremendous means of propaganda motion pictures can be.” And this: “So because of that influence [the Prussian militaristic tradition from the days of the Kaisers], and Nietzsche’s, the hero in Germany was always a superman. For example, I had made a series about a criminal called Dr. Mabuse—he was a superman; here in America, Al Capone was not a superman. In a totalitarian state, or in a state governed by a dictator, an emperor or a king, this leader himself is, in a way, a superman; he can’t do wrong—at least he couldn’t in those days.” [emphasis added--GL] Here Fritz Lang does not mean someone who appears a normal human but harbors “super powers,” like Peter Parker a.k.a. Spiderman, or is bulging with muscles and can bend a steel bar in his hands like it was a stick of soft licorice. Mabuse’s “super powers” are a highly developed intellect, his “psychic” abilities and his Hitler-like will to vanquish his perceived enemies.
And where, you are wondering by now, does Donald Trump enter this scenario? What “super powers” does Trump possess?? In Trump’s case, his abilities and genius reside entirely within his deranged mind. Recalling his words and actions since this moderately successful real estate mogul turned politician, can you doubt that he believes himself the most magnificent figure in the entire history of the world? Or that he believes he truly is above the law by dint of being President of the United States? Or on a still more basic level, above the law by dint of simply being Donald Trump? He is trying to rule like a crime kingpin, demanding of his subordinates absolute loyalty to his person; not loyalty to government, for which he has much contempt, but loyalty to him. In his warped psyche, Donald J. Trump is the state, is the nation. This is precisely how the Nazis presented Hitler—indistinguishable from the state, the nation, the very German people. Absolute obedience was demanded, with the direst consequences for dissenters from this insane ideology. In The Testament of Dr. Mabuse, the penalty for even the appearance of loss of loyalty is physical liquidation. Trump likes to talk about “the good old days” when the penalty for treason was death. He’s not quite in a position to mete out that punishment, but he will try to make persona non grata anyone deserting his inner circle. And whereas his “empire of crime” had been limited to real estate dealings—details of which, in terms of tax repercussions, he steadfastly refuses to reveal—as President he hankers to exercise powers, Constitutional or otherwise, to benefit his personal interests and those of close family members and business cronies. Protected by the Republican majority in the US Senate from any consequences for his misdeeds, he only grows bolder in his machinations, cheered on by millions of our idiot fellow citizens who apparently adore him. It appears to this observer that there is truly no floor below which Trump will decline to sink in his personal behavior. The character Dr. Mabuse was confined to a cell in an asylum for a decade, but he still instructed his criminal foot soldiers in what to do by sending his mind outside the walls. I am very confident that Donald Trump lacks this, or any other “super power,” so I propose his body be confined to a cell for the rest of his natural life, and certainly with no access to Twitter. You see, my demands are modest in the extreme!
END
A little Trumpian town reclaims its sports mascot
'Chief Wahoo,' recently "retired" mascot of the Cleveland "Indians" Major League Baseball franchise.
Published January 27, 2020
The little Trumpian town in question is where I have lived for nearly 40 years, having fled the crime and overcrowding of New York City for a place in rural New England. I don’t consider it “my” town; I was raised in a Long Island suburb. I just happen to reside here, and if I could afford it, I would go live elsewhere. Before I get into the specifics of The Great School Mascot Controversy, allow me to paint you a picture of this town. This will help you understand the socio-political environment that gave birth to the controversy.
The town has a population of about 17,000 per latest census. The biggest employer is a Frito-Lay plant, frying potato chips in mass quantity. On a warmish foggy evening, the aroma--not an unpleasant one, certainly--drifts for miles. There are smaller industrial facilities, which mostly require machinist skills of job seekers. There are even surviving, small working farms. There have been vacant storefronts on Main Street for quite some time now. Abuse of opioids and other drugs deemed illegal is widespread. There are Confederate flags in place of front license plates, and bumperstickers in worship of the NRA. And Jesus, naturally. One version of the Ku Klux Klan held a rally in a town not far away soon after I arrived here. The “Tea Party Patriots” hold regular meetings in the next town over. The Letters to the Editor pages of what passes for a weekly newspaper are dominated by wingnuts. The most frequent causes for arrests include: driving unregistered/uninsured vehicle or with suspended license (real smart!); driving under the influence (smart, again!); possession/possession with intent to sell of illicit drugs; violation of a protective order; simple assault; burglary and larceny; passing a “bad” check; interference with a 911 call; failure to appear for scheduled court appearances on previous violations. I am sure that this portrait would be equally applicable to small towns in, say, Indiana, Arkansas, Oregon, Wisconsin, even “liberal” California.
The logo for the town’s school athletic teams, adopted in 1939, features a profile portrait of a male Native American in full feathered headdress, with the name “Redmen.” In more recent decades, when Federal regulations required more or less equal attention for sports activity for young women, the name “Redgals” was adopted for their teams. In recent years, there have been public campaigns to pressure professional sports franchises which also associate their team identities with Native Americans to drop these associations on the grounds that they are insulting and demeaning. To my knowledge, none of these teams have complied with the demands. The owners of the Washington “Redskins” football franchise, for example, have adamantly refused. Ditto for the Atlanta “Braves” of Major League Baseball. The Cleveland “Indians,” another MLB franchise, have agreed to ditch ‘Chief Wahoo,’ a depiction of a Native American man with a supercilious grin, as their official logo, but insist on retaining the name of the team, on grounds of tradition. By the way, the high school I attended had “The Braves” for our mascot. For football games, a young man would dress in full buckskins, long feathered headdress and a touch of war paint to join the cheerleaders in whipping up school spirit. We didn’t have “the Tomahawk Chop” adopted by fans in contemporary Atlanta, though. The idea of all this, of course, is to exhibit “the warrior spirit.” Though Native Americans were nearly exterminated by the white European colonists on this continent, the idea is that the “redmen” fought back with vigor and courage against superior firepower. Now, personally, I have never seen “a redman,” unless it was a white man blushing. Likewise, I have never seen “a yellow man,” unless someone was suffering severe jaundice! When I lived in New York City, I occasionally encountered a gentleman with a distinctly green pall to his face in the vicinity of Herald Square. This wasn’t a Saint Patrick’s Day tie-in; I suspect the chap had suffered some ghastly industrial accident. But, I digress.
In the summer of 2019, the Board of Education in this little New England town reportedly received complaints from members of the recognized surviving tribes in this region about the “Redmen” mascot. (I have noticed it takes a few years for national trends to penetrate to this neck of the woods. When I first moved here in 1980, for instance, it was still a big deal for young men to let their hair grow long!) In early July, the Board of Ed voted to change the mascot to the “Red Hawks.” Not a bad name. Many sports teams have mascots that are raptors, because of their perceived aggressiveness. There was an immediate uproar among the vocal segment of the population, that is to say, the wingnut contingent. They detected the smell of the dreaded “Political Correctness” in the board’s decision. “This shall not stand!” In response, the Board of Ed dropped the raptor and declared the school would go without a team mascot until better proposals could be considered and voted upon. That did not smooth any feathers (pardon the expression) ruffled on the backs of the very conservative citizens. Next thing we knew, two Democrat members of the Board of Ed resigned. The local Republicans started campaigning for the vacant seats almost exclusively on the mascot issue and come November, by God, they won those seats and attained the majority on the board! Public meetings (an ancient New England tradition) were called, and were reported to have featured “heated” rhetoric. I did not attend, feeling I had “no dog in this fight.” Those calling for the restoration of the traditional logo made the most noise, and on January 8 this year the Board of Ed voted 5-4 (one GOP member actually dissented from his colleagues) to restore the “Redmen” and “Redgal” names. Wave the flag, pass the apple pie and kiss your moms!
The reversal of what had been seen as a progressive change for the town attracted attention as far away as the offices of The New York Times. Though we are far from being part of the Metropolitan New York Region, the Times duly ran an article on this sordid affair. What their ace reporter failed to discover is that Trump defeated Hillary Clinton by something like 53-39 percent in this town in 2016, though she won the state overall. The vote in nearby towns out here in Palookaville was similar. I submit to you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that one need look no further for the explanation of this stranger than fiction story. Or, as the local Republicans would probably phrase it, the “real Americans” won the day! Hallelujah!
***** FREE LEONARD PELETIER!!*****
END
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Trump is a Pyromaniac, McConnell a Mindreader
Published January 5, 2020
The world has been brought to the brink of war by a psychopath occupying the office of the US Presidency. It will no longer suffice to describe Donald J. Trump as a mere egotist/narcissist. He is the personification of Evil. Oh, I know, that’s a rather vague term and subject to relativistic judgment. But how else to describe someone so full of hate as to pursue policies that intentionally further the degradation of a whole planet’s environment? And that is precisely what he has done, since as the chief consumer on Earth, the US has a greatly outsized impact on global affairs though containing five percent or less of the world’s human population. As Australia burns, the Pyromaniac-in-Chief in the White House must be cackling with delight. And now he has tossed a Molotov cocktail into the already volatile “Middle East” (not a good term, but I’ll use it for sake of convenience...if the southeastern corner of the Mediterranean Sea is the middle east, after all, where is the “Near East”?).
The CIA, in collaboration no doubt with Israel’s Mossad, was tracking the movements of Iran’s head of the Revolutionary Guards. This is standard practice regarding designated Bad Guys. Seeing an opportunity to assassinate this gentleman at the Baghdad airport, someone in the Intel community floated the idea before Trump. The “stable genius,” he of the famous “bone spurs” that kept him out of harm’s way during the Vietnam fiasco, gave the “Go!” signal. The US claimed that this act of severe provocation was a “defensive action, a pre-emptive strike” against an evil leader of terrorists, necessary because Gen. Soleimani was planning nasty actions against US interests in the region. Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, in charge of ensuring Trump is acquitted in any impeachment trial that might actually transpire, immediately chimed in that this killing was justified. Why? Because, again, the Iranians were hatching “plans” to attack US interests. Naturally, no concrete evidence of these foul machinations is presented to the American or world public. Nor will any real evidence (though fabrications are eminently possible) be forthcoming. This is just more pro-war propaganda. Josef Goebbels, Nazi Germany’s Minister for Propaganda, understood all too well how the game works: if you repeat a lie often enough, cloaking yourself in the authority of your appointed government office, the people will come to accept it as truth. So, Senator Goebbels...I mean, McConnell...is a mindreader and he just “knows” that Trump’s incalculably reckless act was “necessary” to ward off bad things happening to US personnel and infrastructure in the Middle East. (Trump himself actually stated on January 5 that his action was meant to “stop a war, not to start one”!!) All of this begs the question: Why, exactly, are these troops, contractors, spies, etc. in the region in the first place? The answer is very short and succinct. Oil. O-I-L. The commodity without which the modern world would grind to a halt.
The world has been brought to the brink of war by a psychopath occupying the office of the US Presidency. It will no longer suffice to describe Donald J. Trump as a mere egotist/narcissist. He is the personification of Evil. Oh, I know, that’s a rather vague term and subject to relativistic judgment. But how else to describe someone so full of hate as to pursue policies that intentionally further the degradation of a whole planet’s environment? And that is precisely what he has done, since as the chief consumer on Earth, the US has a greatly outsized impact on global affairs though containing five percent or less of the world’s human population. As Australia burns, the Pyromaniac-in-Chief in the White House must be cackling with delight. And now he has tossed a Molotov cocktail into the already volatile “Middle East” (not a good term, but I’ll use it for sake of convenience...if the southeastern corner of the Mediterranean Sea is the middle east, after all, where is the “Near East”?).
The CIA, in collaboration no doubt with Israel’s Mossad, was tracking the movements of Iran’s head of the Revolutionary Guards. This is standard practice regarding designated Bad Guys. Seeing an opportunity to assassinate this gentleman at the Baghdad airport, someone in the Intel community floated the idea before Trump. The “stable genius,” he of the famous “bone spurs” that kept him out of harm’s way during the Vietnam fiasco, gave the “Go!” signal. The US claimed that this act of severe provocation was a “defensive action, a pre-emptive strike” against an evil leader of terrorists, necessary because Gen. Soleimani was planning nasty actions against US interests in the region. Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, in charge of ensuring Trump is acquitted in any impeachment trial that might actually transpire, immediately chimed in that this killing was justified. Why? Because, again, the Iranians were hatching “plans” to attack US interests. Naturally, no concrete evidence of these foul machinations is presented to the American or world public. Nor will any real evidence (though fabrications are eminently possible) be forthcoming. This is just more pro-war propaganda. Josef Goebbels, Nazi Germany’s Minister for Propaganda, understood all too well how the game works: if you repeat a lie often enough, cloaking yourself in the authority of your appointed government office, the people will come to accept it as truth. So, Senator Goebbels...I mean, McConnell...is a mindreader and he just “knows” that Trump’s incalculably reckless act was “necessary” to ward off bad things happening to US personnel and infrastructure in the Middle East. (Trump himself actually stated on January 5 that his action was meant to “stop a war, not to start one”!!) All of this begs the question: Why, exactly, are these troops, contractors, spies, etc. in the region in the first place? The answer is very short and succinct. Oil. O-I-L. The commodity without which the modern world would grind to a halt.
Trump’s act of war--and that’s what it was, the opening blow of a now certain war, the casualties of which, as always, will largely be civilians who live in the region whose resources are coveted--also serves as a dandy distraction from Congress’s impeachment action. There is an added irony in that there is not the slightest chance of defecting Republicans tipping the balance in favor of conviction in the US Senate. I’ll repeat that: there’s not the slightest chance Trump was in danger of being removed from office. But with Trump’s magical conversion into “a war leader” (shades of George W. Bush), will Congress even continue to pursue the impeachment process? I can feel in my bones the weak-kneed Democrats who will support the war effort because “these colors don’t run.” “Once we’re in it, we can’t back down without losing face.” “USA! USA!” We will soon see American flags flying from motor vehicles and “Support the Troops” stickers adorning cars again. This is very easy to predict, because our fellow citizens have been thoroughly conditioned, like Dr. Pavlov’s dogs, to react this way.
The most vocal support for this new, utterly unnecessary, conflagration will be from the “Evangelicals.” Israel has been itching to launch large-scale attacks against the Islamic Republic of Iran for a long time. I have no doubt Israel will be invited to join US forces and will respond eagerly. Again, very convenient, since Mr. Netanyahu has legal issues of his own that have stained his incumbency. Well, you can bet those will evaporate when Israel launches its first wave of bombings on Iran. Our homegrown “Evangelicals” have been longing for Armageddon Day in the Middle East for a long, long time. They believe this will lead to the conclusion of the End of Days (already in “progress,” I’d say) and finally the Judgment Day. They will be “raptured” directly from wherever they are--sitting on the toilet, showering, driving down an interstate highway, it matters not--and zoom directly to Heaven, where they will join hands and dance joyously around Jesus’s throne. The fact that untold millions of our fellow citizens actually swallow this piffle explains how Trump came to be POTUS. I have not the least doubt that Donald J. Trump personally is an atheist. He is deranged. He believes he is the Greatest Creation in the history of the Universe. In his mind he is bigger than Jesus, he is bigger than God Himself. But the “Evangelicals” went for the Mike Pence bait and voted for the Trump/Pence ticket. The idiocy of the Electoral College drove the final nail into our coffin lid, handing the codes for nuclear annihilation to the loser of the popular vote on a national basis. The Beast of the number 666, if I may borrow from the crowd whose beliefs I so disparage, has hurled the Molotov cocktail to torch the Holy Land. To be clear: I don’t deny the right of these so-called Christians to cherish what beliefs they wish to. What I object to, with every cell in my body, is their influence on governmental policy leading to a crisis such as we are now entering. The United States was founded as a secular form of governance, and for damned good reason. But in vain would we endeavor to explain that to the “Evangelicals”!
Where exactly we go from here is sheer speculation. Of these factors we may be confident, though: Many civilians will die, mostly “over there.” The unleashing of tactical nuclear weapons cannot be ruled out. Americans will appear uglier than ever in many foreign lands. The citizenry here at home will overwhelmingly cheer for the war...initially, at least. It never fails. Never. And the world, on the whole, will be a considerably worse-off, more polluted, sadder place. Happy New Year!
*****BRING ALL U.S. TROOPS HOME NOW!!!*****
END
The most vocal support for this new, utterly unnecessary, conflagration will be from the “Evangelicals.” Israel has been itching to launch large-scale attacks against the Islamic Republic of Iran for a long time. I have no doubt Israel will be invited to join US forces and will respond eagerly. Again, very convenient, since Mr. Netanyahu has legal issues of his own that have stained his incumbency. Well, you can bet those will evaporate when Israel launches its first wave of bombings on Iran. Our homegrown “Evangelicals” have been longing for Armageddon Day in the Middle East for a long, long time. They believe this will lead to the conclusion of the End of Days (already in “progress,” I’d say) and finally the Judgment Day. They will be “raptured” directly from wherever they are--sitting on the toilet, showering, driving down an interstate highway, it matters not--and zoom directly to Heaven, where they will join hands and dance joyously around Jesus’s throne. The fact that untold millions of our fellow citizens actually swallow this piffle explains how Trump came to be POTUS. I have not the least doubt that Donald J. Trump personally is an atheist. He is deranged. He believes he is the Greatest Creation in the history of the Universe. In his mind he is bigger than Jesus, he is bigger than God Himself. But the “Evangelicals” went for the Mike Pence bait and voted for the Trump/Pence ticket. The idiocy of the Electoral College drove the final nail into our coffin lid, handing the codes for nuclear annihilation to the loser of the popular vote on a national basis. The Beast of the number 666, if I may borrow from the crowd whose beliefs I so disparage, has hurled the Molotov cocktail to torch the Holy Land. To be clear: I don’t deny the right of these so-called Christians to cherish what beliefs they wish to. What I object to, with every cell in my body, is their influence on governmental policy leading to a crisis such as we are now entering. The United States was founded as a secular form of governance, and for damned good reason. But in vain would we endeavor to explain that to the “Evangelicals”!
Where exactly we go from here is sheer speculation. Of these factors we may be confident, though: Many civilians will die, mostly “over there.” The unleashing of tactical nuclear weapons cannot be ruled out. Americans will appear uglier than ever in many foreign lands. The citizenry here at home will overwhelmingly cheer for the war...initially, at least. It never fails. Never. And the world, on the whole, will be a considerably worse-off, more polluted, sadder place. Happy New Year!
*****BRING ALL U.S. TROOPS HOME NOW!!!*****
END
The Twelve Days of Trumpmas (a painful singalong for the Season)
Published December 21, 2019
On the first day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
The worst-ever presidency.
On the second day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Two trillion of new debt,
And the worst-ever presidency.
On the third day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Three trophy wives,
Two trillion of new debt,
And the worst-ever presidency.
[I’ll spare you the repetition of previous items from this point on.]
On the fourth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Four fired Chiefs of Staff...
On the fifth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Five “Fox & Friends” talking points...
On the sixth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Six supremely sexist tweets...
On the seventh day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Seven anti-Semitic tropes...
On the eighth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Eight racist tweets...
On the ninth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Nine Nancy Pelosi put-downs...
On the tenth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Ten more toxic tweets...
On the eleventh day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Eleven emoluments violations...
And on the twelfth day of Trumpmas, McConnell gave to us
An unimpeachable president... *
* (in the popularly understood concept that impeachment entails removal from office)
+++ HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!! +++
(END)
On the first day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
The worst-ever presidency.
On the second day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Two trillion of new debt,
And the worst-ever presidency.
On the third day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Three trophy wives,
Two trillion of new debt,
And the worst-ever presidency.
[I’ll spare you the repetition of previous items from this point on.]
On the fourth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Four fired Chiefs of Staff...
On the fifth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Five “Fox & Friends” talking points...
On the sixth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Six supremely sexist tweets...
On the seventh day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Seven anti-Semitic tropes...
On the eighth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Eight racist tweets...
On the ninth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Nine Nancy Pelosi put-downs...
On the tenth day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Ten more toxic tweets...
On the eleventh day of Trumpmas, The Donald gave to us
Eleven emoluments violations...
And on the twelfth day of Trumpmas, McConnell gave to us
An unimpeachable president... *
* (in the popularly understood concept that impeachment entails removal from office)
+++ HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!! +++
(END)
"South Pacific" debuted on Broadway in 1949 and appeared as a major motion picture in 1958.
Donald Trump: Misunderstood Optimist??
(Commentary with song lyrics)
(Commentary with song lyrics)
Published November 30, 2019
[WARNING: The following piece might, just might, employ language with intentional irony!]
It’s the blessed Holiday Season, so let us look with charitable eyes, and help from some Popular Music lyrics, upon poor, misunderstood Donald Trump! Let us pity the fellow! He just wants to do good in the world, and those damned liberals are constantly hounding him, nitpicking every Presidential tweet and policy decision. No wonder the man gets frustrated! Mr. Trump pleaded for Democratic Members of Congress to allow him to bring us GREAT healthcare, and what did they do? The ol’ cold shoulder! Donald wants to build a big, beautiful, FANTASTIC border wall to keep us safe, and what did those evil civil libertarians do? Fought him, kicking and screaming, every inch of the way!! And to this day we can measure in inches how much new wall has been constructed! Naughty, naughty liberals! Donald J. Trump wants to forge ahead and bring us all to a better place—a place where we all at least resemble Norwegians. What’s wrong with that?!? What have you got against Norwegians, for God’s sake?
“I have heard people rant and rave and bellow
That we’re done and we might as well be dead
But I’m only a cockeyed optimist
And I can’t get it into my head”
So sings Navy Nurse Nellie Forbush in the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical “South Pacific,” one of my very favorite musical shows. Nurse Forbush also lets us know she’s “as corny as Kansas in August,” and isn’t that Trump in a nutshell? The year after the release of the movie version of that show brought to the big screen Frank Capra’s A Hole in the Head (1959), starring Frank Sinatra and Edward G. Robinson. ‘Ol’ Blue Eyes’ sings “High Hopes,” which became a hit on radio at the time. (Music by Jimmy Van Heusen, lyrics Sammy Cahn.)
“Just what makes that little old ant
Think he’ll move that rubber tree plant? …
He’s got high hopes
He’s got high apple-pie-in-the-sky hopes …
Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant!”
Fast-forward a bunch of decades and we encounter the “one-hit wonder” group Timbuk 3 and their song “The Future’s So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades” (1986). [The song has its own entry on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Future%27s_So_Bright,_I_Gotta_Wear_Shades] I despised this little ditty at the time, I confess. It struck me as an endorsement of the great fraud named Ronald Reagan (oops, my bad attitude surfaces again!) and his “Morning in America” bullcrap. (To the progressive-minded, he represented “Mourning” in America.) I couldn’t decipher all the lyrics as I heard them on the radio and missed the intended irony of the song. The narrator of the song is studying nuclear physics and their practical application:
“Things are going great, and they’re only getting better
I’m doing alright, getting good grades
The future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades”
What more splendid application of nuclear physics than building the bombs Reagan wanted the US’s arsenal to be bursting with? And so, the brightness of the future referred to in this song may well have derived from a full nuclear weapons exchange with the Soviets.
In conclusion, with all the Christian charity I can muster, I ask: shouldn’t we all just get out of Mr. Trump’s way and let him lead us all into that promised bright, bright future?………….Fat chance!! The naysayers just won’t give the fellow a break! Such a pity!!
(END)
[WARNING: The following piece might, just might, employ language with intentional irony!]
It’s the blessed Holiday Season, so let us look with charitable eyes, and help from some Popular Music lyrics, upon poor, misunderstood Donald Trump! Let us pity the fellow! He just wants to do good in the world, and those damned liberals are constantly hounding him, nitpicking every Presidential tweet and policy decision. No wonder the man gets frustrated! Mr. Trump pleaded for Democratic Members of Congress to allow him to bring us GREAT healthcare, and what did they do? The ol’ cold shoulder! Donald wants to build a big, beautiful, FANTASTIC border wall to keep us safe, and what did those evil civil libertarians do? Fought him, kicking and screaming, every inch of the way!! And to this day we can measure in inches how much new wall has been constructed! Naughty, naughty liberals! Donald J. Trump wants to forge ahead and bring us all to a better place—a place where we all at least resemble Norwegians. What’s wrong with that?!? What have you got against Norwegians, for God’s sake?
“I have heard people rant and rave and bellow
That we’re done and we might as well be dead
But I’m only a cockeyed optimist
And I can’t get it into my head”
So sings Navy Nurse Nellie Forbush in the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical “South Pacific,” one of my very favorite musical shows. Nurse Forbush also lets us know she’s “as corny as Kansas in August,” and isn’t that Trump in a nutshell? The year after the release of the movie version of that show brought to the big screen Frank Capra’s A Hole in the Head (1959), starring Frank Sinatra and Edward G. Robinson. ‘Ol’ Blue Eyes’ sings “High Hopes,” which became a hit on radio at the time. (Music by Jimmy Van Heusen, lyrics Sammy Cahn.)
“Just what makes that little old ant
Think he’ll move that rubber tree plant? …
He’s got high hopes
He’s got high apple-pie-in-the-sky hopes …
Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant!”
Fast-forward a bunch of decades and we encounter the “one-hit wonder” group Timbuk 3 and their song “The Future’s So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades” (1986). [The song has its own entry on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Future%27s_So_Bright,_I_Gotta_Wear_Shades] I despised this little ditty at the time, I confess. It struck me as an endorsement of the great fraud named Ronald Reagan (oops, my bad attitude surfaces again!) and his “Morning in America” bullcrap. (To the progressive-minded, he represented “Mourning” in America.) I couldn’t decipher all the lyrics as I heard them on the radio and missed the intended irony of the song. The narrator of the song is studying nuclear physics and their practical application:
“Things are going great, and they’re only getting better
I’m doing alright, getting good grades
The future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades”
What more splendid application of nuclear physics than building the bombs Reagan wanted the US’s arsenal to be bursting with? And so, the brightness of the future referred to in this song may well have derived from a full nuclear weapons exchange with the Soviets.
In conclusion, with all the Christian charity I can muster, I ask: shouldn’t we all just get out of Mr. Trump’s way and let him lead us all into that promised bright, bright future?………….Fat chance!! The naysayers just won’t give the fellow a break! Such a pity!!
(END)
James Joyce's Ulysses: Why I had to bail at the halfway mark!
A classic Celtic cross. Perhaps James Joyce set out to sink the English language in the name of Irish independence?
Published November 16, 2019
James Joyce’s Ulysses has long borne the reputation of a bete noire in the realm of literature. I imagine it has struck fear in generations of college students when it appeared on the syllabus of what works were to be studied in a given semester. When I learned a new edition had been issued (this was some 30 years ago), purporting to “correct” some 5,000 typographical errors that had crept into earlier versions, I had to buy a copy. And so I did, and it runs to 644 pages in paperback. It is symptomatic of my obsession for purchasing books faster than I can absorb them (more on this later) that I only recently plunged into the task (job?) of reading this beastie. [Most interestingly, many scholars now look down their noses at this attempt at “correcting” the text of the novel.] And I had to stop at about page 320, just about the halfway mark. What went wrong?
Allow me to start with praise. Thanks to my knowledge of Irish history and culture, I knew what a martello tower is: the story opens with Stephen Dedalus sharing living quarters in one of these cylindrical stone structures (watchtowers) with a British soldier. The latter, presumably, has been installed there against the will of the locals. The year is 1904, and it would be years before Ireland gained independence from Britain--with the ongoing, contentious exception, of course, of the six counties in the northeast still controlled by England. I also knew that “fenians” refers to Irish freedom fighters prior to the founding of the Irish Republican Army (IRA), and that Connell and Parnell were pro-independence (“home rule”) politicians. Thus was I able to plow ahead without having to research things via the Internet. The central figure in the story, Leopold Bloom, appears about 40 pages in and we accompany him as he walks about Dublin on June 16, 1904 (celebrated now as “Bloomsday”). Dedalus and his father, Simon, among many other characters introduced, will intersect with Bloom on multiple occasions.
We are treated to two (through the point where I threw in the towel) discussions, or debates, among characters about the genealogy of Shakespeare, and the meanings of “Hamlet” above all. There are long lists of funny character names, some of which had me laughing aloud. There is pointed criticism of the Catholic Church, and the aforementioned British occupation. I was startled to encounter the phrase “sky pilots”! In 1904, man had only just taken powered flight, and “pilot” would still primarily be a nautical term. Likewise, I was amazed to encounter the phrase “His Satanic Majesty’s”…not “Request,” but does this mean Mick and Keith read Joyce? [I am quite fond of the Rolling Stones’s oft-maligned (by petty minds!) album Their Satanic Majesty’s Request.] Much of the “dialogue” is really characters‘ interior monologues, reflections on events and people, and increasingly rambling as the book progresses--if that is the proper term! At times, it is well-nigh impossible to know who is “speaking.” Joyce’s manipulation of language becomes increasingly playful and complex. Words are run together in a manner to outrage the stodgy reader. I almost had a sense that Anthony Burgess took some direction from Joyce in concocting the slang spoken by ‘Little Alex,‘ his murderous sociopathic protagonist (or, as Joyce might have put it, murderousociopathicprotagonist) in A Clockwork Orange. Ulysses is, if nothing else, a marvelous demonstration of playful, wildly creative wielding of language. (Note that since Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey are classics I have not yet tackled--but they’re on my list!--I was only exposed to excerpts during my school years so many decades ago. You know, the episode of the blinding of the Cyclops, the Sirens trying to pull Odysseus’s ship to its doom, etc. Therefore I did not concern myself with trying to match each incident in Ulysses with its Homeric antecedent.)
All well and good thus far. But...BUT!! When I came to Chapter 14, I found that Mr. Joyce went off the rails, into the deep end of the pool, into orbit in space--deploy the metaphor of your choice. Now words are being strung together almost at random, incapable of conveying any logical meaning to this reader. Stream of consciousness is one thing, gibberish another. Here is a specimen of a sentence from this section of the book: “And not few and of these was young Lynch were in doubt that the world was now right evil governed as it was never other howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise but the law nor his judges did provide no remedy.” And that’s one of the more intelligible ones! I couldn’t resist peeking at the final pages before I set this volume aside, permanently I suspect. The entire final chapter consists of pages-long paragraphs without punctuation. Stream of consciousness? Sure, but to what end? Masterpiece of literature? Balderdash! forced am I to declare. I cannot spare the time to wallow in such stuff and nonsense for, you see, I have about 150 more books stacked up that I have bought over the decades and yet to read! The price of my obsession. And so, I am now happily reading Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge, by Edward O. Wilson, thank you very much. Farewell, Ulysses! Farewell, messieurs Bloom, Dedalus, et al., and Molly Bloom, the famous singer, to boot!
(END)
James Joyce’s Ulysses has long borne the reputation of a bete noire in the realm of literature. I imagine it has struck fear in generations of college students when it appeared on the syllabus of what works were to be studied in a given semester. When I learned a new edition had been issued (this was some 30 years ago), purporting to “correct” some 5,000 typographical errors that had crept into earlier versions, I had to buy a copy. And so I did, and it runs to 644 pages in paperback. It is symptomatic of my obsession for purchasing books faster than I can absorb them (more on this later) that I only recently plunged into the task (job?) of reading this beastie. [Most interestingly, many scholars now look down their noses at this attempt at “correcting” the text of the novel.] And I had to stop at about page 320, just about the halfway mark. What went wrong?
Allow me to start with praise. Thanks to my knowledge of Irish history and culture, I knew what a martello tower is: the story opens with Stephen Dedalus sharing living quarters in one of these cylindrical stone structures (watchtowers) with a British soldier. The latter, presumably, has been installed there against the will of the locals. The year is 1904, and it would be years before Ireland gained independence from Britain--with the ongoing, contentious exception, of course, of the six counties in the northeast still controlled by England. I also knew that “fenians” refers to Irish freedom fighters prior to the founding of the Irish Republican Army (IRA), and that Connell and Parnell were pro-independence (“home rule”) politicians. Thus was I able to plow ahead without having to research things via the Internet. The central figure in the story, Leopold Bloom, appears about 40 pages in and we accompany him as he walks about Dublin on June 16, 1904 (celebrated now as “Bloomsday”). Dedalus and his father, Simon, among many other characters introduced, will intersect with Bloom on multiple occasions.
We are treated to two (through the point where I threw in the towel) discussions, or debates, among characters about the genealogy of Shakespeare, and the meanings of “Hamlet” above all. There are long lists of funny character names, some of which had me laughing aloud. There is pointed criticism of the Catholic Church, and the aforementioned British occupation. I was startled to encounter the phrase “sky pilots”! In 1904, man had only just taken powered flight, and “pilot” would still primarily be a nautical term. Likewise, I was amazed to encounter the phrase “His Satanic Majesty’s”…not “Request,” but does this mean Mick and Keith read Joyce? [I am quite fond of the Rolling Stones’s oft-maligned (by petty minds!) album Their Satanic Majesty’s Request.] Much of the “dialogue” is really characters‘ interior monologues, reflections on events and people, and increasingly rambling as the book progresses--if that is the proper term! At times, it is well-nigh impossible to know who is “speaking.” Joyce’s manipulation of language becomes increasingly playful and complex. Words are run together in a manner to outrage the stodgy reader. I almost had a sense that Anthony Burgess took some direction from Joyce in concocting the slang spoken by ‘Little Alex,‘ his murderous sociopathic protagonist (or, as Joyce might have put it, murderousociopathicprotagonist) in A Clockwork Orange. Ulysses is, if nothing else, a marvelous demonstration of playful, wildly creative wielding of language. (Note that since Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey are classics I have not yet tackled--but they’re on my list!--I was only exposed to excerpts during my school years so many decades ago. You know, the episode of the blinding of the Cyclops, the Sirens trying to pull Odysseus’s ship to its doom, etc. Therefore I did not concern myself with trying to match each incident in Ulysses with its Homeric antecedent.)
All well and good thus far. But...BUT!! When I came to Chapter 14, I found that Mr. Joyce went off the rails, into the deep end of the pool, into orbit in space--deploy the metaphor of your choice. Now words are being strung together almost at random, incapable of conveying any logical meaning to this reader. Stream of consciousness is one thing, gibberish another. Here is a specimen of a sentence from this section of the book: “And not few and of these was young Lynch were in doubt that the world was now right evil governed as it was never other howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise but the law nor his judges did provide no remedy.” And that’s one of the more intelligible ones! I couldn’t resist peeking at the final pages before I set this volume aside, permanently I suspect. The entire final chapter consists of pages-long paragraphs without punctuation. Stream of consciousness? Sure, but to what end? Masterpiece of literature? Balderdash! forced am I to declare. I cannot spare the time to wallow in such stuff and nonsense for, you see, I have about 150 more books stacked up that I have bought over the decades and yet to read! The price of my obsession. And so, I am now happily reading Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge, by Edward O. Wilson, thank you very much. Farewell, Ulysses! Farewell, messieurs Bloom, Dedalus, et al., and Molly Bloom, the famous singer, to boot!
(END)
A tranquil scene from Arlington National Cemetery. Available space is getting tight! Why did all these people really die??
Bring back Armistice Day and honor the real heroes!
Published November 9, 2019
INTRODUCTION: This is the first article by a guest author on this site. Arnold 'Skip' Oliver is a fellow member of Veterans For Peace. Used by permission. Also, see link at conclusion to a very interesting post on another opinion website. --GL
by Arnold Oliver
How in heck did Armistice Day become Veterans Day? Established by Congress in 1926 to “perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations, (and later) a day dedicated to the cause of world peace,” Armistice Day was widely recognized for almost 30 years. As part of that, many churches rang their bells on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month – the hour in 1918 that the guns fell silent on the Western Front by which time 16 million had died in the horror of World War I.
To be blunt about it, in 1954 Armistice Day was hijacked by a militaristic US congress and re-named Veterans Day. Today few Americans understand the original purpose of Armistice Day, or even remember it. The message of peace seeking has been all but erased. Worst of all, Veterans Day has devolved into a hyper-nationalistic quasi-religious celebration of war and the putatively valiant warriors who wage it. We no longer have a national day to recognize or reflect upon international peace.
And the identification of warriors as heroes is pretty shaky too. If you are a veteran, and honest about it, you will admit that most of what goes on during wartime is decidedly unheroic, and actual heroes in war are very few and far between.
I have to tell you that when I was in Vietnam, I was no hero, and I did not witness a single act of heroism during the year I spent there, first as a U.S. Army private and then as a sergeant. Yes, there was heroism in the Vietnam War. On both sides of the conflict there were notable acts of self-sacrifice and bravery. Troops in my unit wondered how the North Vietnamese troops could persevere for years in the face of daunting U.S. firepower. U.S. medical corpsmen performed incredible acts of valor rescuing the wounded under fire.
But I also witnessed a considerable amount of bad behavior, some of it my own. Among US troops racism against any and all Vietnamese was endemic. There were countless incidents of disrespect and abuse of Vietnamese civilians, and a large number of truly awful war crimes. Most unheroic of all were the U.S. military and civilian leaders who planned, orchestrated, and profited greatly from that utterly avoidable war. I should have taken action to resist the war while still on active duty, but I did not.
The cold truth is that the U.S. invasion and occupation of Vietnam had nothing to do with protecting American peace and freedom. On the contrary, the Vietnam War was fought to forestall Vietnamese independence, not defend it; it bitterly divided the American people.
Unfortunately, Vietnam wasn’t an isolated example of an unjust conflict. Many American wars — including the 1846 Mexican-American War, the Spanish-American War in 1898, and the Iraq War (this list is by no means exhaustive) — were waged under false pretexts against countries that didn’t threaten the United States. It’s hard to see how, if a war is unjust, it can be heroic to wage it.
But if the vast majority of wars are not fought for noble reasons, and few soldiers are heroic, have there been any actual heroes out there defending peace and freedom? And if so, who are they? Well, there are many, from Jesus down to the present. I’d put Gandhi, Tolstoy, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on the list along with many Quakers and Mennonites. And don’t forget General Smedley Butler, who wrote that “War is a Racket”.
In Vietnam, Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson stopped the My Lai massacre from being even worse.
Another candidate is former U.S. Army specialist Josh Stieber who sent this message to the people of Iraq: “Our heavy hearts still hold hope that we can restore inside our country the acknowledgment of your humanity, that we were taught to deny.” We were honored to be able to host Josh in our home as he walked across the US on a mission of peace while giving away the money he had earned in the military as partial atonement for his role in a thoroughly unjust war.
And how about Chelsea Manning who spent seven years behind bars for exposing ugly truths about the Iraq war, and the Plowshares Seven now in the news? The real heroes are those who resist war and militarism, often at great personal cost.
Because militarism has been around for such a long time, at least since Gilgamesh came up with his protection racket in Sumeria going on 5,000 years ago, people argue that it will always be with us.
But many also thought that slavery and the subjugation of women would last forever, and they’re being proven wrong. We understand that while militarism will not disappear overnight, disappear it must if we are to avoid economic as well as moral bankruptcy – not to mention the extinction of our species.
As Civil War General W.T. Sherman said at West Point, “I confess without shame that I am tired and sick of war.” We’re with you, bro.
This year on November 11th, Veterans For Peace will bring back the original Armistice Day traditions. Join them and let those bells ring out.
Arnold “Skip” Oliver is Professor Emeritus of Political Science at Heidelberg University in Tiffin, Ohio. A Vietnam veteran, he belongs to Veterans For Peace, and lives in Sandusky.
(END)
TomDispatch has a very interesting article by recently retired Army Major Danny Sjursen concerning America's "Endless Wars." Sjursen started publishing dissenting opinion pieces about US foreign policy while still teaching History at West Point, an extremely rare situation. He says he broke down crying at end of his final class at the Point, realizing that some of his students would almost certainly perish in these senseless wars. Click HERE to read.
INTRODUCTION: This is the first article by a guest author on this site. Arnold 'Skip' Oliver is a fellow member of Veterans For Peace. Used by permission. Also, see link at conclusion to a very interesting post on another opinion website. --GL
by Arnold Oliver
How in heck did Armistice Day become Veterans Day? Established by Congress in 1926 to “perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations, (and later) a day dedicated to the cause of world peace,” Armistice Day was widely recognized for almost 30 years. As part of that, many churches rang their bells on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month – the hour in 1918 that the guns fell silent on the Western Front by which time 16 million had died in the horror of World War I.
To be blunt about it, in 1954 Armistice Day was hijacked by a militaristic US congress and re-named Veterans Day. Today few Americans understand the original purpose of Armistice Day, or even remember it. The message of peace seeking has been all but erased. Worst of all, Veterans Day has devolved into a hyper-nationalistic quasi-religious celebration of war and the putatively valiant warriors who wage it. We no longer have a national day to recognize or reflect upon international peace.
And the identification of warriors as heroes is pretty shaky too. If you are a veteran, and honest about it, you will admit that most of what goes on during wartime is decidedly unheroic, and actual heroes in war are very few and far between.
I have to tell you that when I was in Vietnam, I was no hero, and I did not witness a single act of heroism during the year I spent there, first as a U.S. Army private and then as a sergeant. Yes, there was heroism in the Vietnam War. On both sides of the conflict there were notable acts of self-sacrifice and bravery. Troops in my unit wondered how the North Vietnamese troops could persevere for years in the face of daunting U.S. firepower. U.S. medical corpsmen performed incredible acts of valor rescuing the wounded under fire.
But I also witnessed a considerable amount of bad behavior, some of it my own. Among US troops racism against any and all Vietnamese was endemic. There were countless incidents of disrespect and abuse of Vietnamese civilians, and a large number of truly awful war crimes. Most unheroic of all were the U.S. military and civilian leaders who planned, orchestrated, and profited greatly from that utterly avoidable war. I should have taken action to resist the war while still on active duty, but I did not.
The cold truth is that the U.S. invasion and occupation of Vietnam had nothing to do with protecting American peace and freedom. On the contrary, the Vietnam War was fought to forestall Vietnamese independence, not defend it; it bitterly divided the American people.
Unfortunately, Vietnam wasn’t an isolated example of an unjust conflict. Many American wars — including the 1846 Mexican-American War, the Spanish-American War in 1898, and the Iraq War (this list is by no means exhaustive) — were waged under false pretexts against countries that didn’t threaten the United States. It’s hard to see how, if a war is unjust, it can be heroic to wage it.
But if the vast majority of wars are not fought for noble reasons, and few soldiers are heroic, have there been any actual heroes out there defending peace and freedom? And if so, who are they? Well, there are many, from Jesus down to the present. I’d put Gandhi, Tolstoy, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on the list along with many Quakers and Mennonites. And don’t forget General Smedley Butler, who wrote that “War is a Racket”.
In Vietnam, Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson stopped the My Lai massacre from being even worse.
Another candidate is former U.S. Army specialist Josh Stieber who sent this message to the people of Iraq: “Our heavy hearts still hold hope that we can restore inside our country the acknowledgment of your humanity, that we were taught to deny.” We were honored to be able to host Josh in our home as he walked across the US on a mission of peace while giving away the money he had earned in the military as partial atonement for his role in a thoroughly unjust war.
And how about Chelsea Manning who spent seven years behind bars for exposing ugly truths about the Iraq war, and the Plowshares Seven now in the news? The real heroes are those who resist war and militarism, often at great personal cost.
Because militarism has been around for such a long time, at least since Gilgamesh came up with his protection racket in Sumeria going on 5,000 years ago, people argue that it will always be with us.
But many also thought that slavery and the subjugation of women would last forever, and they’re being proven wrong. We understand that while militarism will not disappear overnight, disappear it must if we are to avoid economic as well as moral bankruptcy – not to mention the extinction of our species.
As Civil War General W.T. Sherman said at West Point, “I confess without shame that I am tired and sick of war.” We’re with you, bro.
This year on November 11th, Veterans For Peace will bring back the original Armistice Day traditions. Join them and let those bells ring out.
Arnold “Skip” Oliver is Professor Emeritus of Political Science at Heidelberg University in Tiffin, Ohio. A Vietnam veteran, he belongs to Veterans For Peace, and lives in Sandusky.
(END)
TomDispatch has a very interesting article by recently retired Army Major Danny Sjursen concerning America's "Endless Wars." Sjursen started publishing dissenting opinion pieces about US foreign policy while still teaching History at West Point, an extremely rare situation. He says he broke down crying at end of his final class at the Point, realizing that some of his students would almost certainly perish in these senseless wars. Click HERE to read.
"Death to all those who would whimper and cry!"
Published October 30, 2019
As Super-Macho Bone Spurs President Trump gloated over the (alleged) assassination of Bogeyman al-Baghdadi, these immortal lines from Bob Dylan's "Tombstone Blues" leapt to my mind: "[the Commander-in-Chief says] 'Death to all those who would whimper and cry'/And dropping a barbell he points to the sky/Saying 'The sun's not yellow it's chicken.'" I have mixed feelings about Dylan's career, but by jingo, when he was good he was great!!
And that's all I have to say at this moment, as I'm up to my neck in the labor of trying to market my memoir to the publishing industry. There's a mountain to climb there, folks!
(END)
Published October 30, 2019
As Super-Macho Bone Spurs President Trump gloated over the (alleged) assassination of Bogeyman al-Baghdadi, these immortal lines from Bob Dylan's "Tombstone Blues" leapt to my mind: "[the Commander-in-Chief says] 'Death to all those who would whimper and cry'/And dropping a barbell he points to the sky/Saying 'The sun's not yellow it's chicken.'" I have mixed feelings about Dylan's career, but by jingo, when he was good he was great!!
And that's all I have to say at this moment, as I'm up to my neck in the labor of trying to market my memoir to the publishing industry. There's a mountain to climb there, folks!
(END)
A spectre is haunting America--the spectre of "democratic socialism"
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Published October 16, 2019
Our title is a play on the opening line of “The Communist Manifesto” (Wikipedia entry HERE), published in 1848 by Karl Marx and his intellectual partner, Friedrich Engels: “A spectre is haunting Europe—the spectre of communism.” The continent was in the throes of social upheaval, with technological progress in the industrial realm, spurred on by the big money interests, making it possible for the remnants of feudalism to be increasingly pushed aside, except in the most backward hinterlands like Czarist Russia. This allowed Marx and Engels to envision the rise of a genuinely revolutionary class, the industrial working class, with the potential to overthrow capitalist exploitation. Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont really must be credited with bringing the phrase “democratic socialism” into current American political discourse. This is the result of his having made “Medicare For All” (your author prefers “universal health care”) the central plank of his campaign for the Democratic Presidential nomination next year. In turn, almost all of his rivals have been forced to endorse something resembling such a plan. Thanks to the not exactly enlightening mainstream media in the United States, this terribly radical notion that perhaps people shouldn’t be going bankrupt trying to pay their medical bills has been likened to “democratic socialism.” But what does that phrase mean? It is a euphemism for a more humane version of capitalism. The Scandinavian countries are often cited as exemplars of such an approach to governing society. |
The most vocal opponents of anything even remotely resembling socialism--socialism, the dreaded idea that society ought to be organized for the benefit of the great majority of the population rather than the tiny minority that controls most of the wealth--would have you believe that all of Europe, and the United Kingdom to boot, suffers under the oppressive yoke of such a system. The simple truth is--and even the mainstream media actually get this right--virtually all other “advanced” societies on the planet provide government-sponsored health care to their citizens. But through some miracle, they remain societies harboring profitable corporations which make some of the most famous brands of products in the world. This latter is an inconvenient truth for those who make a living disparaging anything hinting at socialism. Some mainstream European political parties even incorporate the phrase “social democratic” in their names, a vestige of 19th Century politics.
In the United States, the Hippocratic Oath--generally expressed as “above all, do no harm” (to the patient)--was long ago replaced by the Hypocritic Oath: “Above all, do no harm to your personal income.” Those entering the field of medicine in recent decades have flocked to the specialized fields where the most money can be gained, leaving a shortage of general practitioners, the good old-fashioned family physician. Now add the complication of the health insurance industry, imposing itself as the gatekeeper between patient and professionals...for a fee. A juicy fee. “Obamacare” was anything but a solution to our plight. First, it was modeled after the plan Republican Mitt Romney installed in Massachusetts when he was governor there. And second, its purpose was not to ensure needed care for all citizens, but to herd those citizens into private for-profit operations. Thanks a lot, Mr. Obama.
The opponents of universal health care will rant and rail all day long, if you give them the least chance, about the crushing tax burden, and the long waiting periods to receive care, in countries that have adopted a form of “socialized medicine.” From all I have read about other countries’ systems, it does seem to be true that there are long wait times...but those are for routine, non-emergency matters. If your appendix ruptures, you are going to receive the care you require, and without being handed a $5,000 bill for the ambulance ride. As for taxation, this is way too large a can of worms to open in this article. Europeans pay a variety of taxes, yes, but they actually get something in return! What do we receive in the United States for our tax dollars? Unjustified, endless wars.
Our fellow citizens are slowly awakening to the idea that something is fundamentally screwed up when a handful of multi-billionaires possess as much in assets and income as the 50% of the citizenry toward the bottom of the income ladder. But the loud, louder, loudest cheerleaders for the preservation of the status quo needn’t shout themselves hoarse. There is no threat of actual socialist revolution erupting here at present. “Democratic socialism”? Even a little reform, the institution of a somewhat humane approach to providing health care to those most in need and lacking the financial wherewithal, will require a major struggle. And so it goes here in the land where “money doesn’t talk, it screams!” (Bob Dylan).
(END)
In the United States, the Hippocratic Oath--generally expressed as “above all, do no harm” (to the patient)--was long ago replaced by the Hypocritic Oath: “Above all, do no harm to your personal income.” Those entering the field of medicine in recent decades have flocked to the specialized fields where the most money can be gained, leaving a shortage of general practitioners, the good old-fashioned family physician. Now add the complication of the health insurance industry, imposing itself as the gatekeeper between patient and professionals...for a fee. A juicy fee. “Obamacare” was anything but a solution to our plight. First, it was modeled after the plan Republican Mitt Romney installed in Massachusetts when he was governor there. And second, its purpose was not to ensure needed care for all citizens, but to herd those citizens into private for-profit operations. Thanks a lot, Mr. Obama.
The opponents of universal health care will rant and rail all day long, if you give them the least chance, about the crushing tax burden, and the long waiting periods to receive care, in countries that have adopted a form of “socialized medicine.” From all I have read about other countries’ systems, it does seem to be true that there are long wait times...but those are for routine, non-emergency matters. If your appendix ruptures, you are going to receive the care you require, and without being handed a $5,000 bill for the ambulance ride. As for taxation, this is way too large a can of worms to open in this article. Europeans pay a variety of taxes, yes, but they actually get something in return! What do we receive in the United States for our tax dollars? Unjustified, endless wars.
Our fellow citizens are slowly awakening to the idea that something is fundamentally screwed up when a handful of multi-billionaires possess as much in assets and income as the 50% of the citizenry toward the bottom of the income ladder. But the loud, louder, loudest cheerleaders for the preservation of the status quo needn’t shout themselves hoarse. There is no threat of actual socialist revolution erupting here at present. “Democratic socialism”? Even a little reform, the institution of a somewhat humane approach to providing health care to those most in need and lacking the financial wherewithal, will require a major struggle. And so it goes here in the land where “money doesn’t talk, it screams!” (Bob Dylan).
(END)
Does Jesus Love Climate Change Deniers?
Published October 10, 2019
Published October 10, 2019
For some time now, a towering irony has tickled my brain, though at root the topic is not at all amusing. This is the paradox that the regions of the United States that are suffering the most devastating effects of the climate crisis appear to be home to the greatest concentrations of those who deny the indisputable reality of climate change, or at least deny that human activity is the underlying cause of the calamity.
Oklahoma, Kansas and parts of Texas have long been known as Tornado Alley; Dorothy and Toto were not swept up by that twister from a rural location in Kansas because L. Frank Baum picked a spot at random from a map of the US. These wicked storms have only grown more intense as average temperatures rise, ramping up the dynamo of heat that fuels this deadly weather phenomenon that is so awe-inspiring to visualize...at a safe remove. Mississippi and Alabama, the quintessential “Deep South” states, likewise frequently get clobbered by ferocious storms. And Louisiana? Read it here first: I predict that within 15 years it will be recognized that humans must abandon their dwellings there.
Oklahoma, Kansas and parts of Texas have long been known as Tornado Alley; Dorothy and Toto were not swept up by that twister from a rural location in Kansas because L. Frank Baum picked a spot at random from a map of the US. These wicked storms have only grown more intense as average temperatures rise, ramping up the dynamo of heat that fuels this deadly weather phenomenon that is so awe-inspiring to visualize...at a safe remove. Mississippi and Alabama, the quintessential “Deep South” states, likewise frequently get clobbered by ferocious storms. And Louisiana? Read it here first: I predict that within 15 years it will be recognized that humans must abandon their dwellings there.
In less enlightened times (actually, they were probably more enlightened times), these parts of the United States were tagged as The Bible Belt. In that environment, the famous Scopes Trial (“the Monkey Trial”) took place over the horror of the prospect of the teaching of evolution in the public schools. With the rise of the Modern Republican Party--which has moved remarkably (astoundingly?) far to the right since the era of Dwight D. Eisenhower--and its courting of the “evangelical” voter, politicians who campaign on their alleged faith in the contents of the Bible can be found most everywhere. Now, you must forgive me for indulging in what some will complain is stereotyping. But I shall forge ahead fearlessly. We are in a time of grave crisis, and it will not do for the author to pussyfoot, beat around the bush, or pull his punches. It won’t be an original observation on my part to point out that there’s often at least a kernel of truth behind stereotypes. The danger lies in saying “Oh, you know, all ‘those people’ are like that.” So allow me to paint a portrait of what I consider a “typical specimen” of the “evangelical” voter. This person tends to be white, male, opposed to abortion under any circumstances, harbors a visceral hatred of homosexuals [a future article here will address the roots of this phenomenon], has no doubt that women were created by the Divinity as beings inferior to males, opposes any regulation of possession of firearms, is a member of a Protestant sect (likely some variant of the Baptists) and thus deems the Pope in Rome not far removed from Satan, and professes to “fear and love Jesus” above all else. The “good Christian” wives of these folks see no contradiction in voting for candidates opposed to equal rights for women. A puzzled, if not murderous, look will sweep over this individual’s face if you bring up the inconvenient fact that Jesus was a Jew. Our specimen may even still believe that Jews have horns and tails. We would likely find James Inhofe, esteemed (warning: ironic use of language) member of the United States Senate, re-elected perpetually by the good citizens of Oklahoma, in that latter category. Senator Inhofe has not the least doubt that every word in the Bible should be accepted as literally true. And he and his ilk will assure you with absolute certainty that climate change is a hoax, perpetrated by East Coast elitist liberals (probably with “limp wrists”) because they love to impose regulations on economic activity.
With “500-year floods” starting to occur only a few years apart; with tornadoes appearing in regions like New England with regularity now; with Lynn, Massachusetts inundated by flash flood waters in the past year; with Houston starting to be swallowed by the bayous that lie toward the Gulf of Mexico; with Miami under threat and plans afoot to build sea walls around Manhattan Island; and with consecutive years racking up all-time high average global temperatures...how could any reasonably intelligent individual howl that this is all manufactured “fake news”? Here is my answer: denial of the reality of the climate crisis is part and parcel of the mindset I described in the previous paragraph. Essentially, this is a theological package of beliefs. And with theology, the True Believer is required to accept every last detail unquestioningly. Indeed, to harbor the least doubt is to risk being cast out of the sect a foul heretic. One cannot sway a True Believer with even a tsunami of sweet reason. Thus do we find ourselves in the dilemma of being governed more and more by elected officials who must pander to the beliefs of this significant portion of the US population in order to remain in office, so they may milk that office for all it’s worth to their own self-aggrandizement.
In the realm of this Protestant fundamentalist religion, Jesus is Lord, the Holy Ghost secondary. God the Father is rather neglected in their beseechings of divine assistance, doubtless because of His--the God of Abraham--association with the ancient Hebrews and later, Islam. It’s always “Help me, Jesus!” and “Thank you, Jesus!” And so, to bring this little essay full circle, we must ponder a big question. Why is Jesus increasingly steering dreadful storms right into the hearts of the regions of our country where he is most adored? Perhaps the Savior has developed a wicked sense of ironic humor that mere mortals can’t grasp?
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Published October 3, 2019
“What shall we do with a deranged POTUS, early in the morning?”
The original sea shanty, for the benefit of those of you who aren’t old salty dogs, asked “What shall we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning?” Donald J. Trump claims he doesn’t drink. Clearly he doesn’t need the assistance of substances from the external environment. He is sufficiently mentally deranged all on his own to merit immediate removal from office via the provisions of the 25th Amendment to the United States Constitution, or the impeachment process. I do not make light of the millions of Americans suffering one form of mental illness or another. I state flatly that anyone who is reasonably fair-minded--this rules out Trump’s many millions of admiring supporters, obviously--can see by observing the man’s words and behavior that he is severely ill. At what was supposed to be a joint press conference with the President of Finland on October 2, 2019, Trump aimed at a reporter who was attempting to ask inconvenient questions the oft-quoted line from Martin Scorsese’s 1976 movie Taxi Driver, “Are you talking to me?!” As always, Mr. Trump is unable to grasp the concept of irony. For after all, this line is spoken in the movie by Travis Bickel (played by Robert De Niro, who has had “unkind” words for The Donald lately), one of the most ragingly psycho-/socio-pathological characters, walled up within his own grand delusions, in screen history.
I will now present the most airtight argument imaginable for impeaching this large stain upon the history, and the reputation in the larger world, of the USA. I am not an authority on Constitutional Law, but I have eyes with which to see and ears with which to hear. I have not seen this idea put forth anywhere in the mainstream media, even by Trump’s most publicly outspoken critics. My reasoning is quite straightforward. The Preamble to the US Constitution--no, we needn’t advance any farther into that musty document--states that government is instituted to promote the general welfare of the citizenry. The moment this POTUS started to appoint Federal agency chieftains whose mission is to sabotage those few bureaucracies intended to provide some protection (inadequate though it was, at best!) of the health and safety of people and the environment, he earned impeachment. The policies he is pursuing are intentionally designed to do the opposite, encouraging activity that will actually accelerate the degradation of the already severely damaged environment of the entire planet. What could be his motivation? Well, you see, his “base” contains a large number of people who have been convinced by the relentless, insidious propaganda of the modern Republican Party that regulation of industrial activity to try to ameliorate damage to the natural world (and regulation in general) is a plot by “liberals” to gain increased flow of taxpayer dollars to government agencies. “Trump Digs Coal!” Wasn’t that a terrific campaign slogan? Of course the ignoramuses who swallow this nonsense hook, line and sinker don’t question the flow of half their tax dollars to the Military-Industrial-”Intelligence” Complex. (When it comes to the US Government, I always find it oxymoronic to associate that entity, with its seventeen [that are publicly acknowledged!] individual branches involved in surveillance and espionage at home and abroad, with the concept of intelligence. Picture a 17-headed hydra that can’t figure out which way is up.)
The Democratic Party has proved the most execrably loyal opposition imaginable. Speaker of the House of Representatives Pelosi adamantly refused to pursue impeachment of this POTUS until firm evidence surfaced that Trump had requested the assistance of a foreign entity in seeking “dirt” on his presumed opponent on the 2020 ballot. Pelosi and her backers would have us believe this is brilliant execution of her long-timeframe strategy of giving The Donald time to unspool the rope with which to hang himself. Balderdash! Taking action to try to remove this blight upon the nation from office is a matter of principle. Yes, that terribly quaint old notion of acting on principle! Can we expect the GOP-controlled Senate to convict this president and remove him from office, no matter how grave the offenses eventually revealed? Of course not. But acting on principle is about doing the right thing, not wringing one’s hands over pragmatism. The foot-dragging by the Democrats has allowed this severely deluded individual named Donald Trump to make a mockery of the office he holds (for now) and to sink us into an everyday “reality” where bat-shit crazy (I don’t know why this phrase fell into obscurity so quickly after Trump was sworn in--too brief an attention span in today’s Americans, perhaps?) is considered “normal.” The struggle to restore a sense of national sanity will be a long and arduous one. This President appears to genuinely believe he is above the law. All laws! I cannot imagine his towering ego would allow him to say “I quit! You won’t have Donald Trump to kick around anymore, you minions of the liberal media who conspired against me!” It is an indictment of our entire system of governance that no “adult in the room” to rein this man in ever materialized, and that he can go his merry way shredding the notion of checks and balances daily. Something has to give. Something will give, but how much more damage will have been done to the nation and the larger world in the meantime?
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