Saturday, August 28, 2004
The Status of The Dream
Forty years ago, today, Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, his most famous speech. The “I Have A Dream" speech.
The speech is eloquent, powerful, and not without truth. Many who have listened to this speech, mark the timber of his words, and the emphasis with which King delivered the final four paragraphs of this famous speech. These final four paragraphs are freely quoted, memorialized in songs, providing a sound bite that can be easily recalled.
Unfortunately, many individuals seem to forget the previous paragraphs of this speech. Paragraphs which caution and upbraid, as King states, within the speech, "my people."
If King’s dream is to reach fruition, individuals of whatever color, would be wise to take the following words from this famouos speech, and apply them.
"But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. we must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom."
Not Simply A Cobbler
Cobblers are somewhat of a dying breed. Many individuals are more apt to toss a well worn pair of shoes, whose soles display the wear of miles walked, or scuffed along, rather than turning them over to the hands of a tradesman whose history is long.
I was just recently directed to a cobbler, here in Western Michigan, whose handiwork is the best I have ever had the pleasure to observe, or to wear on my feet. A man who takes evident pride in the service he provides. His name is Myron, and his business card does not state that he is a cobbler, it states that he is a Technician.
Myron is a Technician, and I salute his technical expertise with this post.
Liars All
Much has been made, over the past couple weeks, at least in the Blowflysphere; a term I lifted from Greg Swann at Presence of Mind; about John Kerry’s swift boat escapades and military service. Was he in one place then, or another when, and so on and so forth.
It’s much the same in regards George Bush’s military record while he was in the Reserves. Was he in one place then, or another when, and so on and so forth.
About the only thing, which can be truthfully stated, in regards to both of these political clowns, is that they both served in the military, at one point in time in their lives. Big deal, so did I.
So, we have two veterans, vying for the glory and power of President of the United States, neither of which can forthrightly speak without a forked tongue slipping in and out of their mouths.
Choose your poison.
Monday, August 23, 2004
I Liked the Title, and Some of What He Said
The title, Evil and the Anarchy-Repression Continuum.
Some of what he said.
"We need think only a few seconds to realize that all law enforcement infringes to some extent on the liberty of innocent people. You pay taxes for the salary and expenses of the first cop hired, and the minute you do so, you have given up the liberty to spend that money in some other way. From that point on, in a thousand ways, it can be shown to be necessary for the innocent to sacrifice something in order for the policeman to his job. You may be required to drive only on the right hand side of the road. You may be required to give up your free time to serve on jury duty, or testify in court. You may be required to show identification in order to cash a check, or enter a building. You may have to pass through a metal detector in order to board an airplane."
As written by Jay Bryant and posted at Townhall.com.
Most Must Be Special Need Students, Now
He rides the short bus. The previous phrase, used to be a phrase, bandied about by students to denote individuals who were considered special needs students. After reading this, as reported in the Boston.com News, I have come to the conclusion that the “educators” who run the public school systems have almost completed their re-education the parents, public school staffs, state and federal legislatures and, worst of all, the students, who are now all seemingly special needs students.
"When it comes to correcting papers and grading tests, purple is emerging as the new red.
“If you see a whole paper of red, it looks pretty frightening,” said Sharon Carlson, a health and physical education teacher at John F. Kennedy Middle School in Northampton. “Purple stands out, but it doesn’t look as scary as red."
How scary.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
Found Filed Under "Weird"
Dave Gross, filed this story, about dowsing, specifically about Florence Young and the Big Sky Dowsers Association, under “Weird.”
Dowsing is a bit weird, and, though I’ve never dowsed for water, I have dowsed, on many an occasion, for underground pipes in individuals yards, when they wanted to do some digging and such. I haven’t steered them wrong, yet. I have no explanation for it.
Build Them Again, Sam
Are the individuals living in the United States so in fear of terrorism, so in need of memorials, and so reliant on the supposed protection of the State, that they cannot see that this idea, to rebuild the Twin Towers, is the right way to declare to terrorists, no, to the world, that Americans cannot be beaten down?
Via Nicholas Provenzo at The Rule of Reason.
The History Channel
I enjoy the study of history, and, because I do not have cable teevee, I don’t often have an opportunity to sit down and watch The History Channel.
For most of the past week, though, while I acted as a presence and a dog sitter at a friend’s home, I was able to catch a few shows. One in particular, though there were others that caught my attention for the poetic license taken with history, irked me.
The story was about the 1972 Olympics. Remember what happened there? I do, and I was only twelve at the time. The show was titled Revenge!, and rather than actually being about the 1972 Olympic incident when Palestinian terrorists grabbed world headlines by blantantly killing Israeli athletes, the show focused on Israel’s response, after the fact, thus the supposed clever title “Revenge!”
The reason this show irked me so, is, I can recall the year 1972, and the thoughts that went through my mind when the Palestinians took the Israeli athletes hostage, Israel’s response of no negotiation, which the inept Germans totally ignored, and my support for Israel’s desire to take charge of the situation themselves, which, of course, the Germans also ignored.
The situation ended badly, with all the Israeli athletes dead, the Palestinians terrorists dead, except for three who were captured and did a bit of jail time before other Palestinian terrorists hijacked a plane, threatening to kill the passengers, unless the three captured Palestinian terrorists were released, which of course they were, so Israel had to clean up the mess left by the Germans originally when the whole thing started in the Olympic village.
As I listened to this show, I could not help but recall my outrage at the Palestinian terrorists, the way the Germans pussyfooted around, ignoring Israel’s desire to handle the situation, and the totally inept end to the situation as handled by German police and military.
Israel’s response, after the bungled mess wasn’t revenge, it was justice, and if I could figure this all out at the age of twelve, why can’t supposedly intelligent adults figure it out now.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Work Can Only Be a Tool
Tyler Cowen, at Marginal Revolution, points to an essay titled “Buyer’s Remorse." The essay, written by Daniel Akst, casts it eye on anti-materialism, comparing Alger and Thoreau.
Both Akst and Cowen note the seeming contradiction between Thoreau’s words, and his actions. A money earner, who disdained materialism in his written words. Does that mean I cannot disdain materialism unless I am a pauper, or, of very limited means? Work is highly overrated, but it is a great tool to achieve what one desires, whether that be possessions, or leisure for other pursuits.
Give This Guy a Gold Star
Why do terrorists do what they do? Low self esteem, fear of their own mortality, and not enough creative juice outlets, like basket weaving. At least according to University of Missouri Assistant Professor of Psychology Jamie Arndt.
"According to Arndt, one key to effective terror management is self esteem, and those with a higher self worth, particularly people whose self esteem comes from within and is not based on accomplishing certain goals, are less likely to attack people who are different."
And this.
"With higher self esteem, people have a stronger shield and are better able to repel the anxiety that comes with understanding their own mortality,” Arndt said. “We, and others, also have explored creative engagement and tolerance and found that giving people creative tasks may facilitate a more open-minded outlook."
Bomb em with art supplies, I guess.
Via Bill Ramey at Saturn in Retrograde.
When Your Home Isn't Your Home
Natural disasters are, well, disasters. When they strike your home, it can be heart rending. Memories, both physical and spiritual, can be irretrievably lost. Physical memories are scattered like so much detritus across, who knows where, and spiritual memories, once contained within the walls of your home, are seemingly lost, too, and yet they can be rekindled by the comfort of regaining the sanctity of your home, damaged though it may be. Though, of course, you can’t go home, if the State says isn’t safe, as this story so plainly illustrates.
I watched this story on CBS news, but linked to it via Posted by John Venlet on 08/17 at 03:05 PM
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Monday, August 16, 2004
A Few Thoughts on the Basic Writings of Nietzsche
In the introduction to the above mentioned tome, Walter Kaufmann, who translated and edited, had this to say,
"One may actually be led to wonder whether in philosophy there is in inverse proportion between profundity and importance on the one hand, and clarity and excellence of style on the other."
I would have to agree with Kaufmann that Nietzche’s clarity and style are definitely there to be read, unlike say, Kant, whose writing tends to leave my mind feeling like it is suffering from a severe case of cottonmouth. Be that as it may, here are a few of my thoughts.
I found The Birth of Tragedy to be more of an exercise in mental masturbation, rather than a work that fired the neurons. Don’t misunderstand me, though, the work is interesting enough, but it isn’t a work that I would, with anticipation, desire to pick up and devour once again. Sure, I underlined some passages, learned some new Latin terms, and I even considered the validty of Nietzche’s argument, but I failed to find any real, useful need for such an indepth study of Greek tragedy and the influences which supposedly brought it about. In fact, as I read the work, I kept wondering what Nietzsche’s mind would have garnered from a study of rock and roll.
Seventy-Five Aphorisms from Five Volumes was next up, after the above mentioned, and I found this collection of aphoristically styled work not only entertaining, but, like a good old fashioned hard candy, a collection of work that could be popped into your mind to mull over and rolled around. Occasionally popping the the candy from your mind, to pick up and read again, it’s taste undminished. I’ve left a marker in this section of the book, a Blue Jay’s feather, so I can pick it up and quickly pop a candy, or two, into my head as a late night treat.
Beyond Good and Evil, Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future was quite heady and I found myself agreeing with many of Nietzsche’s thoughts. This work can summed up, quite well I think, by the following, which Kaufmann included in his Translator’s Preface to this work of Nietzsche. The words are from the Ibsen’s play An Enemy of the People, the fourth act.
"The most dangerous enemy of truth and freedom among us--is the compact majority. Yes, the damned, compact, liberal majority…
The majority has might--unfortunately--but right it is not. Right--are I and a few others. The minority is always right…
I have a mind to make a revolution against the lie that the majority is in the possession of the truth. What kind of truths are those around which the majority usually gathers? They are truths that have become so old that they are on the way toward becoming shaky. But once a truth has become that old, it is also on the way toward becoming a lie...A normally constituted truth lives, let us say, as a rule seventeen or eighteen years; at most twenty, rarely more. But such aged truths are always exceedingly thin. Nevertheless it is only at that stage that the majority makes their acquaintance...All these majority truths...are rather like rancid, spoiled...hams. And that is the source of the moral scurvy that rages all around us..."
On the Genealogy of Morals followed the above quite nicely, I think, and I also found much in this work of interest to me. My pen has scored many a passage, and penned as many notes, to consider again in the future. One note I penned, in response to an especially stringent passage, still makes me chuckle, because I thought Nietzsche was propounding his idea with the zealotry of a preacher.
The Case of Wagner. About the only thing I can say about this work is that it called to my mind a teenage girl’s virulent verbal attack on her best friend after her best friend came to the prom wearing the exact same prom dress. I found this work useless, and a waste of Nietzsche’s mind.
Ecce Homo, on the other hand, was another work that I relished, and not only because I have as much confidence in myself, as Nietzsche had in himself. This work called to my mind an old Ashanti proverb, "Act as if you cannot fail."
I must say that I am pleased that I added this book to my collection, and with the exception of The Birth of Tragedy, and The Case of Wagner, I’ll look forward to reading it again in the future.
Sunday, August 15, 2004
Why Johnny Don't Vote
Do you hate being forced, told, to do something you really don’t want to do? I know I do. In fact I despise it. The act of voting is just such forcing, a telling someone to do this or that because I said so.
It’s funny, a year or so ago, I had to ask a friend what the acronym VOPA stood for. What’s really funny, though, is I always understood what it meant.
Grab a Tiger by the Tail
Back on July 19th, I mentioned that I had recently undertaken a new business venture. Though this undertaking bears a slight mark of expediency, the opportunity presented offered rewards which meld nicely with the way I choose to live my life. That choice being, work my keister off for a period of five years, or so, and then sell high, in a manner of speaking, in order to maximize my profits and then pursue other, more leisurely and intellectual, endeavors.
I grabbed the tiger’s tail on June 1st, and as of today, August 15th, I’ve sunk my hands deep into the tiger’s hindquarters as I maneuver to obtain its back. By the end of this year, 2004, I shall have mounted the tiger’s back and broken it to the saddle, in order to command it to answer to my slightest whim, and to perform ferociously under my hand.
I grabbed this tiger’s tail, though, with some misgivings. These include laboring in a highly, government regulated industry, for a large corporate entity, with certain individuals who, at times, confuse avarice with actual success and a job done in a first rate manner. Also, I am raising up other individuals, within this industry, to levels of compensation they may previously have only dreamed of, which causes me some regret as it feeds the beast which preys on all of us.
The most interesting, and disheartening, matter I have discovered since beginning this endeavor, is the CYA culture that seems to be so prevalent within the organization. This is disheartening, because the CYA culture is a culture where individuals typically become afraid to make decisions, or perform certain functions, because “It’s not my job.” Bah, what a loser type attitude.
I will do very well in this organization, and CYA culture, as I am unafraid of making decisions and, more importantly, I already know more about every individual’s job above me, and below me, than those individuals know themselves, though I’m fairly certain riding the tiger will not leave me unscathed.
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Still Children
Do you recall as child, or have you observed children, bickering, appealing to their parent, or some adult in supposed authority over them? You know; Mommy, Johnny did so and so and said a bad word, or, Johnny has my such and such and won’t let me play with it. Mommy, or the authority figure, indubitably, will mediate the situation, creating a temporary peace or solution to the problem at hand. Of course, this temporary peace or solution usually won’t take hold until the children have exhausted their store of shrillness, oceans of faux tears, and circular arguments.
Sitting in courtroom 6D, yesterday, awaiting my call to the bench, struck me as quite similar in nature. One hears much the same type of childish argumentation presented to the judge, a he said she said type of thing, over items such as an entertainment center, a big screen teevee, or a house. The judge looms over the the legal counselors with their children by their sides; in this case individuals approaching the age of fifty; now, nowing at times like a patient parent, and at other times like an imperial wizard, cautioning Johnny, or Betty Sue, to play nice or not talk out of turn, or urging the counselors to keep their children under control. I found it all quite sordid and unbearable to listen to, and I was embarrassed, to tell the truth, that I had to take my turn in front of the bench, like a penitent, appealing for protection from the neighborhood bully.
