sense of proportion
in good and bad experience
loses its appeal

Adapted from the passage in the book, The Road North by Jim Harrison (Atlantic Monthly Press New York, 1998) where Mr. Harrison writes:

With age I need not make judgments about their comparative merits, having lost the impulse to be right.

One is one, and the other is another.

With age one loses all sense of the supposed inevitability of art and life.

Vivid moments are no longer strung together by imagined fate.

The sense of proportion in good and bad experience loses its appeal.

Bad is bad and you let it go.

Good you cherish as it whizzes by.

Mental struggles become lucid and muted with particular visual images attached to them, somewhat irrationally or beyond ordinary logic.

Money shrinks to money.

Fear is always recognizable rather than generalized.

It is sharp and its aim is very good indeed.

If there is wisdom as such, it is boiled down by fatigue.

The sense of proportion in good and bad experience loses its appeal.

When you have a man who sits in the office of president of the United States who post images of himself portrayed as Jesus Christ, all things, good and bad, lose their proportion on a level of good of bad.

Landing in the land of the unbelievable, I need not make judgments about their comparative merits, having lost the impulse to be right.

The sense of proportion in good and bad experience loses its appeal.

When there are no comparative merits, their is little effort needed to be right.

As I wrote the other day that I struggle mentally to become lucid and I feel muted with particular visual images attached to them, somewhat irrationally or beyond ordinary logic and ask how a man could become not immoral, not amoral but, somehow infinitely worse, morally extinguished and president.

The sense of proportion in good and bad experience loses its appeal.

Beyond belief.

I what for the outcry but where your treasure is, their your heart will be also.

genius to corrupt
others – inevitably
became part of it

Adapted from the book, by Albert Speer: His Battle With Truth by Gitta Sereny (Knopf: New York, 1995) where Ms. Sereny writes in the introduction:

Hitler’s genius in part was to corrupt others, but the evidence I have collected suggests that with extraordinary skill he deliberately protected those closest to him — who from 1933 on included Speer — from any awareness which could have disturbed them or the harmony of their relationship with him.

But corruption is insidious.

Speer, in the course of his growing relationship with Hitler, inevitably became — though for a long time unwittingly — a part of it.

Speer, I was already convinced, had never killed, stolen, personally benefited from the misery of others or betrayed a friend.

And yet, what I felt neither the Nuremberg trial nor his books had really told us was how a man of such quality could become not immoral, not amoral but, somehow infinitely worse, morally extinguished.

Like many, I wonder about the people in the inner circle of that man currently in office.

Many of those people are about my age and grew up with pretty much the experience I had growing up in America.

I wonder about the people in the inner circle of that man currently in office and what I wonder is how did they get there.

How did there experience growing up in, for lack of a better description, Our America, prepare to sell out and turn their back on Our America.

I wonder and for the most part, I don’t get it.

Deep down I tell myself that they, too, wonder how they got there.

If asked would they sell out the America they grew up in, they would answer of course not.

Deep down, I tell myself, they know what they are doing.

Deep down they know and they regret it, or at least, they know that a future comes when they will regret it.

And yet, here we are.

I picked up a book last night about Albert Speer, the man known as the good Nazi.

The Nazi who apologized.

The Nazi who apologized but hedged a bit saying he wasn’t really aware of what was going on with all those death camps.

Gitta Sereny had a lot of misgivings about Albert Speer as well

She wondered about this man in the inner circle of Adolf Hitler.

She wondered how he got there.

She went to work, interviewing Speer and thinking about it.

Ms. Sereny would write:

Hitler’s genius in part was to corrupt others.

Speer, in the course of his growing relationship with Hitler, inevitably became — though for a long time unwittingly — a part of it.

Change that up a bit.

Trump’s genius in part is to corrupt others.

That works, doesn’t it?

That really works.

Lets pick on one person.

Lets pick on Marco Rubio.

And say Marco Rubio, in the course of his growing relationship with Trump, inevitably became — though for a long time unwittingly — a part of it.

And finish it off.

Rubio had never killed,

stolen,

personally benefited from the misery of others

or betrayed a friend.

And yet, how a man of such quality could become not immoral,

not amoral but,

somehow infinitely worse,

morally extinguished.

How?

Trump’s genius in part is to corrupt others.

Swap in any name, Mike Johnson, Franklin Graham, Lindsey Graham …

Trump’s genius in part is to corrupt others.

Like Albert Speer, deep down they know and they regret it, or at least, they know that a future comes when they will regret it.

in war tactics and
operations for naught if
strategy is flawed

Of course, in war tactics and operations are for naught if the strategy is flawed.

British General Sir Garnet Wolseley encouraged colonial commanders to seize what the enemy prized most.

Gallwell counselled offensive action and dramatic battles because he believed it the best way to demonstrate the ‘moral superiority’ of the European.

This worked best against a foe with a fairly cohesive system – a capital, a king, a standing army, a religious bond — some symbol of authority or legitimacy which, once overthrown, discouraged further resistance.

But that was easier said than done.

Indigenous societies might be too primitive to have a centralized political or military system, or to assign value to the seizure of a city like Algiers or Kabul.

Insurrections against both English and Spanish rule in the New World began in the cities.

Efowever, the ability to control major cities did not win the war for either power, and in fact weakened them by forcing them to scatter their forces.

Shamil would pull his population deep into the mountains and force the Russians to attack fortified villages organized in depth, while he simultaneously slashed at their greatly extended supply lines, a tactic which Mao successfully replicated against Ghiang’s ‘encirclement’ campaigns of the early 1930s.

And while the Russians might eventually take these villages after desperate fighting, their casualties were such that victory was gutted of strategic significance and they were inevitably forced to retreat through hostile country.

From Wars of empire by Douglas Porch, (London: Cassell, 2000), as part of Cassell’s History of Warfare Series, John Keegan, General Editor.