12.29.2020 – not treachery

not treachery
an infallible instinct for
doing the wrong thing

Is it me or has Government of the people, for the people and by the people hit a rock in the water?

There are not a lot of qualifications for elected office listed in the Constitution of the United States.

Cleary brains, compassion or desire-to-do-the-right thing are not required.

Groucho Marx once said something along the lines of not wanting to join any club that would let people like him in as members.

Groucho once was refused membership in a Hollywood county club as he was Jewish.

Groucho asked that since his children were only half Jewish could they go halfway into the swimming pool?

Right now, anyone who expresses any interest in elected office should be disqualified from running.

Who would want to sign up for such abuse?

I guess such thinking is what got us where we are today.

Ben Franklin saw it coming when he said about George Washington, “The first man put at the helm will be a good one. Nobody knows what sort may come afterwards.”

Dr. Franklin continued, “The executive will be always increasing here, as elsewhere, till it ends in a monarchy.”

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Today’s haiku has its roots in a quote from George Orwell from his essay on Great Britain at the start of World War 2, “The Lion and The Unicorn” first published by Searchlight Books, 19 February 1941.

Mr. Orwell wrote of the British Government at the time that:

What is to be expected of them is not treachery, or physical cowardice, but stupidity, unconscious sabotage, an infallible instinct for doing the wrong thing.

They are not wicked, or not altogether wicked; they are merely unteachable.

An infallible instinct for doing the wrong thing!

BOY! HOWDY!

I ran across the quote in another article which included a chilling coda to this thought.

Where Mr. Orwell wrote that they [Government] were “merely unteachable,” this line was added.

“Back when [they] at least partly understood such criticism.”

I scream and yell at the news images of the actions of Congress over and over.

I have to remember they don’t even understand what I am yelling about let alone care that I am yelling.

12.20.2020 – basic liberties

basic liberties
extensive, equal for all
greatest benefit

A joke told by either John Cleese or Bill Bryson goes like this (or was it Julian Fellowes?).

If three Englishmen found themselves alone on a desert island the first thing they would do is form a club that would allow them to exclude any other members.

I was thinking about this as the news cycle on Reagonomics is starting to build.

The idea of ‘Trickle-Down’ is now 40 years old and reports and studies are being released that it just didn’t work.

Rich people got richer.

They kept on to their money.

There was no trickle down.

Just recently, according to one source, since the start of the pandemic, just 651 American billionaires have gained $1tn of wealth.

Okay, truth be told, IF I WERE A RICH MAN, would I handle it any better?

Watching Dick Cavett reruns on YouTube there is a clip where Mr. Cavett is having a conversation with Orson Welles.

Mr. Cavett asks Mr. Welles what he would do if he was suddenly given a very large amount of money.

Mr. Welles thundered immediatly like a fast ball off a bat, “Give it all away of course!”

Then he was quiet for a moment.

“Easy to say when it hasn’t happened,” Mr. Welles said in a slow voice.

“Most likely be different if I truly had the money.”

Reading the articles and discussions I came across the writings of John Rawls.

In 1971 Mr. Rawls published his treatise, A Theory of Justice in which he advanced the concept of the “original position”.

Mr. Rawls suggested, if a society gathered to debate the principles of justice in a kind of town hall meeting, but no one knew anything about themselves. “No one knows his place in society,” wrote Rawls, “his class position or social status, nor does anyone know his fortune in the distribution of natural assets and abilities, his intelligence, strength, and the like.”

IF this could happen, Mr. Rawls stated, “people would adopt two main principles. First, there should be extensive and equal basic liberties. Second, resulting social and economic inequalities should be managed to “the greatest benefit of the disadvantaged”.

Inequality could only be justified to the extent it provided material benefit to the least well-off.

This template, hoped Rawls, would make intuitive sense to everyone who imagined themselves into the “original position”.

Intuitive sense.

Intuitive sense that economic inequalities should be managed to “the greatest benefit of the disadvantaged”.

Mr. Rawls was embraced by many.

Mr. Rawls and this theory was also debunked.

One critic said that Mr. Rawls’ methodology was problematic.

This critic wrote, “Rawls was too trusting in the US constitution and not aware enough of the dark side of politics and power.”

This was back in 1970.

The dark side of politics and power seems to be doing as well today as economic inequalities.

11/12/2020 – then when all else fails

then when all else fails
use meekness as a weapon
it worked on Mom …

Watching and waiting for this Presidential Election cycle to come to a merciful end and wondering if the President will ever figure out what has happened and what he needs to do, I was reminded of my 10th grade English teacher, oh wait, HONORS English teacher, Mr. David Throckmorton, at Grand Rapids Creston High School.

What was this guy doing teaching in a high school?

Mr. Throckmorton should have been teaching in one of those weird little New England colleges like Brown or Dartmouth or Amherst or someplace with a name that bespoke unspoken deep thoughts from unread deep books.

Instead it was Creston High School for Mr. Throckmorton.

The same high school he had graduated from.

Mr. Throckmorton famously spoke at a Creston High School Pep rally saying, “I have always been a big Creston High School athletic supporter.”

I don’t know.

Maybe it was penance.

I once told my chemistry professor at Grand Rapids Junior College that I would be coming back to teach at GRJC as a history instructor.

She said she couldn’t wait and would take my class for revenge.

Mr. Throckmorton taught the experience of language in english rather than ‘traditional’ subject-verb-object, I before E type of stuff.

Not that he ignored grammar and basic tools but the class was so much more than that.

But he was stuck on how to grade our level of progress as required by the Board of Education.

He settled on two things.

For the first half of the school year we had weekly spelling tests with a massive 200 word final at the end of the semester and the 2nd half of the school grade was based on a weekly vocabulary tests with a massive 200 word final.

This produced a grade for the class.

I got nothing against spelling.

I just can’t do it.

I cannot explain it but me and spelling just do not get along.

Today Spell check is my friend but I also have Mark Twain’s “It is a poor sort of person who can’t spell a word more than one way” branded into my brain.

It was worse in this class as I took it up as a cause that grading class room performance on just SPELLING was stoooooooopid and I wasn’t going to do it.

I was loud in my complaints on this system.

I refused to study.

I was to put it simply, a real jerk about it.

I also got D’s.

I also didn’t care much for Mr. Throckmorton though all and I mean ALL of my friends loved the guy.

Then the semester ended and we moved to the vocabulary tests which I could pass without any studying and my world and relationship with Mr. Throckmorton changed.

I loved the class.

I embraced the teaching.

I embraced the teacher.

We still had assignments for essays and short papers and such.

On one such assignment I did not have my work ready and I got an E written down in the grade book.

I made the effort to meet up with Mr. Throckmorton after school.

I explained why my paper was ‘late’ (I hadn’t written it yet) and my excuse took in the phases of the Moon, the Carter Presidency, the Gadsden purchase and anything else I could come up with.

I apologized and said I understand I was wrong to not have the paper done.

I apologized again and explained that I was aware of the assignment and the due date but I just messed up.

I apologized again and promised that if he could only give me a little break, I would have the paper on his desk first thing the next morning.

The morning after I wrote the missing assigned paper that had been due today but I didn’t say that part.

Mr. Throckmorton stared at me.

Just stared.

I think he nodded his head slowly a few times.

Did I mention that Mr. Throckmorton had an uncanny resemblance to Fidel Castro?

Mr. Throckmorton held me in his gaze as his curly hair and bushy beard slowly went up and down.

Without a word he turned back to his private closet and unlocked it.

He opened the door and dug through a stack of books until he found an old, very worn, anthology.

He looked at me.

Then he paged through the anthology until he came to a certain poem.

He handed me the open book and said “read.”

I read the indicated poem.

I read it again.

I looked back at Mr. Throckmorton and read it a third time.

I closed the book and handed it back.

I nodded and smiled with my lips tight together.

“Thanks,” I said.

And I left.

It is odd how often that poem comes back to me.

Maybe someone could read it to the President.

On Flunking a Nice Boy Out of School

I wish I could teach you how ugly
decency and humility can be when they are not
the election of a contained mind but only
the defenses of an incompetent. Were you taught
meekness as a weapon? Or did you discover,
by chance maybe, that it worked on mother
and was a good thing — at least when all else failed — to get you over the worst of what
was coming.
Is that why you bring these sheepfaces to Tuesday?
They won’t do.
It’s three months work I want, and I’d sooner have it
from the brassiest lumpkin in pimpledom, but have it,
than all these martyred repentances from you.

—John Ciardi, 1916-1986

11.6.2020 – because the poor are

because the poor are
plundered and the needy groan,
now will God arise

This haiku is a case of me holding up a mirror to allow folks to reflect and correct on their own.

I speak not for either side of the election.

I speak not for one point of view of the other.

I am just holding up the mirror.

The mirror as represented by the 12th Psalm.

Maybe though the mirror is one of those mirrors that is set in a low stool at the shoe store .

The type of mirror that lets you check out a new pair of shoes.

And you know what they say about ‘if the shoe fits.’

Psalm 12

A psalm of David.

1 Help, Lord, for no one is faithful anymore;
those who are loyal have vanished from the human race.
2 Everyone lies to their neighbor;
they flatter with their lips
but harbor deception in their hearts.

3 May the Lord silence all flattering lips
and every boastful tongue—
4 those who say,
“By our tongues we will prevail;
our own lips will defend us—who is lord over us?”

5 “Because the poor are plundered and the needy groan,
I will now arise,” says the Lord.
“I will protect them from those who malign them.”
6 And the words of the Lord are flawless,
like silver purified in a crucible,
like gold refined seven times.

7 You, Lord, will keep the needy safe
and will protect us forever from the wicked,
8 who freely strut about
when what is vile is honored by the human race.

I think some further comment can be squeezed in.

Let me be clear, I accept the Bible without error as the inspired word of God.

For me, that adds a lot of extra weight to the Bible’s words.

Lets say this was just some book.

Take the book of Psalms in particular.

I think it is universally accepted that the Psalms are 1,000s of years old regardless of who wrote them or who inspired them.

Consider the words of this Psalm as a commentary on contemporary everyday life when it was written.

It is true that there isn’t anything new under the sun.

11.5.2020 – counting counted counts

counting counted counts
one loser but one winner
no prize for second

I remember a conversation in a newsroom somewhere sometime.

In 20 years of online news I have been in a lot of news rooms on election night.

The point was put forward that election day was not at all like a sporting event or football game.

When you watch a football game, the story emerges as you watch.

Both teams start at zero and try to score points and the game goes on.

While it seems that way when watching election returns, that one candidate the other has successful plays and score touchdowns and adds more points.

But it is not like that.

The scores are all made.

The points are all scored.

The points just have to be totaled up.

For the sports analogy, we are watching a replay of the game.

Nothing can add or subtract from the points already scored.

No one surges ahead like a last minute touchdown drive to win a game.

We do not know what the total is but the game is over.

All over but the counting.

In the paraphrased words of President Bill Clinton in 2000, the people have spoken … now we have to figure out what they said.

But thinking of sports I am reminded of Olympic Gold Medal events.

Events were two teams play each other for Olympic Gold.

Boxing, Basketball, Hockey and other head to head competitions where the field is down to two teams or two athletes and they compete against each other for the Gold.

It’s the only time where the loser gets a medal.

Think about it.

In swimming, track, or other such events, there have been thrilling battles for 2nd place.

The Silver Medal IS an accomplishment.

But for some sports 2nd place, the Silver Medal, IS first loser.

You lost.

You lost the Gold Medal.

You get the Silver.

<p value="<amp-fit-text layout="fixed-height" min-font-size="6" max-font-size="72" height="80">Oh boy!Oh boy!

I remember they used to play a basketball game between the two teams that lost in the first round of the Final Four.

This lasted until, as one coach put it, the NCAA mercifully ended the tradition.

But I digress.

The counting goes on.

We will have a winner.

We will have a loser.

And the loser doesn’t even get a Silver Medal.