Mind the Gap!

A few observations on travel to Europe after an absence of three years: 1) Europeans no longer use money. They use cards, mostly with little contactless symbols. They will not take cash, even at Mighty Burger in the food hall of St. Pancras Station. 2) Bicycles rule everywhere, especially in Paris, and the “bike-bastards” don’t stop for stop signs—or pedestrians. 3) All reservations for everything must be made online. It’s pointless to try to phone or drop by the box office. 

 4. Supermarkets, especially in England, have rows of self-service checkout machines and perhaps two machines that (unwillingly) take cash. A lone, harried attendant supervises all of this confusion—and there’s always confusion. In France, the self-service machines tend to be out-of-order, which means that the frazzled cashier must “help” you outsmart the system. 5. French trains still run exactly on time. English trains do not. 

6. Everybody hates Boris Johnson, and almost everyone hates Emmanuel Macron, so naturally, they both remain in power. 7. Public transportation—in both Paris and London—is superb; they are SO far ahead of rinky-dink, user-unfriendly American systems. 8. So you see, the Londoners are right: there will ALWAYS be a gap. A gap between Europeans (concerned about improving the quality of human life) and America (concerned about carrying firearms in public). ALWAYS. Mind the gap.

Certain Alienable Rights: Il faut cultiver notre jardin!

 

It is comforting, but false, to assert, with Thomas Jefferson, that some ineffable, omniscient and omnipotent authority--Nature, God, Nature's God, whatever--has endowed all of humankind with certain "inalienable" rights. Strictly speaking, nothing in the universe, except entropy (i.e., disorder, deterioration and death), is inalienable. In fact, in the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson was writing high-falutin' humbug--intended, quite unabashedly, to justify revolution and political alienation from bonds connecting the colonies to Great Britain. To this end, Jefferson--magisterially but without evidence--proclaimed that the Universe itself had willed immutable and infinite rights--"life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness"--to our very mutable and very finite species.

But—and this is an important “but”—some rights DO, if accepted and sustained over appreciable periods of time, become so “deeply rooted” (a favorite notion among Supreme Court conservatives) that they are viewed by society as fundamental, necessary, and beneficial to the proper functioning of the commonwealth itself—i,e, as “constitutional.” Thus consecrated by "use" if not by the "universe", they come to be simply taken for granted as a part of the nation’s legal framework, as “settled law”—stare decisis. These long-internalized rights face little threat of being eliminated or changed for (Jefferson’s words) “light or transient causes.” Other rights, though—rights more recently accorded in response to changes within the society itself—and actually vital in present-day society—because their roots are not yet deep, because they are not yet simply taken for granted—such rights ARE indeed subject to alienation by powerful authorities not yet persuaded of these rights’ settled (i.e., “constitutional”) status.

Now, in the ongoing course of human events, it has become necessary for Americans to face the very real likelihood that one such recently-granted right—a woman’s personal control of her own reproductive processes—will be withdrawn by a SCOTUS so obsessed with deep roots that it is willing to ignore the value of the growing plant itself. Roe v. Wade is about to be overturned, and with it, the incipient constitutional right of a woman to control her own pregnancy. 

I'm not sure that my term "incipient right” is quite appropriate. But TIME is the key factor here, isn't it? Though rights are never inalienable, as we have seen, they do become firmly "constitutional" OVER TIME. What SCOTUS is attempting to do, it seems, is "weed out" a growing plant that they themselves planted (with Roe v. Wade). They don't want to acknowledge that its root system is already firmly established; they don't want Americans to come to regard this plant as an essential element of our  collective garden.

We must make them see that they are wrong!

Which means, I guess, that we all have more gardening work to do. Il faut cultiver notre jardin. This valuable right must be planted everywhere, nurtured everywhere, defended everywhere--from pests, predators, and stupid jurists, who--alas--don't seem capable of distinguishing a right from a rutabaga.

And we must persist—OVER TIME. Only thus, through our very human actions and interventions—and our persistence—will we ultimately ensure that this 'incipient' right to choose becomes, for  all practical and conceivable purposes, inalienable within our constitutional framework. I know, I know: everyone is SO tired, and America’s women are so legitimately pissed off. SCOTUS itself is dishonoring the Constitution and breaking faith with its pledge to the American people. Sad, sad. But onward!

War Kills Civilians (Duh)!

The media, in these days of early April, 2022, are filled with horrific images broadcast from devastated cities in Ukraine--entire communities bombarded, occupied, pillaged and, finally, abandoned by Russian troops.

Yes, let us direct our anger (this time) against Russia and the Russian soldiers who committed such gruesome killings of civilians in Ukraine. But in our outrage, let us never forget that the REAL enemy is war itself—war which has so long preoccupied our species’ collective thinking that all major countries devote entire universities to its study—as an academic discipline—a science!

War is the enemy! War, which in its irrationality, “excuses” and legitimizes atrocities by releasing angry, bitter, fearful, zealous, stupid human beings from the legal and moral restraints imposed by reason and ideals of brotherhood.

War “crimes” are certainly not new. In Delacroix’s painting below, we see Catholic Christian crusaders nonchalantly slaughtering Orthodox Christian civilians during the Sack of Constantinople (Fourth Crusade, 1204.) It was a three-day bloodbath, for which, to be fair, in 2004, Pope John Paul II voiced a tepid apology—800 years after the event. In return, the Pope’s “cordiality” was then tepidly acknowledged by Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I, who opined with typical religious hokum that “the spirit of reconciliation is stronger than hatred.” One must be very patient, of course, mustn’t one?

Obviously, my pessimistic whataboutism in no way absolves the Russians in Ukraine (or the Germans in Poland, or the French in Algeria, or the Americans in Vietnam). As Dorothy Parker observed (about heterosexuality), the frequency of a phenomenon does not make it “normal”—merely common. But the undisputedly “common” appeal of wartime lawlessness certainly lends a sad perspective to the tendency of humans—of ALL humans, regardless of nationality or culture—to resort to “crimes against humanity” for resolving, ur, very “human” differences. 

So perhaps we should focus our anger and energy on the enormous (perhaps insurmountable) task of somehow eradicating war itself, not just from the policies of nation-states, but from ALL acceptable (and thinkable) “possibilities” available to ALL of human beings. I confess, I do not entertain much hope for the success of such an enterprise. But perhaps the commitment itself constitutes a sort of salvation, at least for individuals, if not for entire societies—hopeful evidence that our species, though instinctively inclined to hate, is in extremis capable of a measure of that high-minded transcendance we sometimes label “humanity.” 

Ukraine and Human Nature: Poo-Tee-Weet.

In my more Hubert Humphrey youth, I used to believe that there really WAS an arc of history bent toward “progress.” I believed that most human beings, at bottom, just wanted to be left alone to live their lives in peace, that most people had no desire to harm others. Well, I gave up that naïveté about the same time I gave up religion. But still, it took me a damned long time, despite all the overwhelming evidence, to realize that—at any given moment—at least half of humankind does NOT want peace and security, but rather YEARNS for the excitement of anger, violence and conflict—with family, neighbors, co-workers, people of other colors, faiths, nationalities. And that the boundaries between peace-lovers and conflict-lovers are not fixed in either space or time: the same average joe might, depending upon external events and his own psychological state, transform overnight from a Milquetoast to a Minotaur. So, I conclude, sadly, that there is nothing meaningful to say about the war in Ukraine, or about human nature itself, except—as Vonnegut’s canary incoherently chirrups at the end of Slaughterhouse Five: “poo-tee-weet.” 

Here’s a picture of the “Tsar Cannon” in Moscow. (It was never actually used in battle: too big). So it goes.

Love a Country, Hate Its Sin

I have always been a Russophile: I love the literature, the music, the art. But this war in Ukraine is criminal and unforgivable. I want to blame Putin alone—leaving aside the Russian people themselves— even though that is probably naïve. Still, c’est compliqué. I feel a bit like I felt during America’s wars in Vietnam and Iraq—betrayed in my love for a country by that country’s stupid, brutal and ultimately “wrong” leaders—plus their credulous minions, of course. How long, and up to what point, is it possible to maintain one’s love of a country in spite of that country’s insane/inhumane policies? How long can one hate a country’s sin and still love that country?  Question to revisit in upcoming U.S. elections? …

The Perils of Putin’s Pauline

In general, I think the news networks are giving us an accurate picture of events unfolding in the war in Ukraine. But I do sometimes feel “manipulated” by interviews and photo narratives that are clearly chosen for their emotional impact (and viewer “appeal”) rather than actual “newsworthiness.” Of course, we all sympathize with the victims of Putin’s war. It’s a given. But I wish CNN et.al. would keep us focused on the overall tragedy and less obsessed with mawkish melodrama (“viewers may find these images disturbing”). This war is clearly NOT a simplistic Hollywood movie in which, yes, the good guys are tied to the tracks, but are ultimately—we knew it all along—rescued (hurrah!) from the clutches of the villain. This is NOT the “The Perils of Putin’s Pauline,” designed to give virtual (and safe) frissons to TV audiences and good ratings to CNN. To indulge in such manipulation of the news amounts to journalistic bad faith. Stop cheapening the suffering by using it for tabloid-style screeching, sermonizing, and money-making.

War-Lust and Vicarious Death

At the first Battle of Manassas (Bull Run) in 1861, Washington bigwigs, lawmakers and socialites were so enthralled by the idea of WAR between the North and South, so eager to witness bloodshed and, of course, to celebrate the thrill of victory, that curious coteries of looky-loos and wannabe warriors packed picnic baskets, hopped in their landaus and journeyed to nearby Manassas for a jolly afternoon of “picnic basket tailgating” and battle watching on the banks of Bull Run.

 Alas, as Super Bowls go, the Bull Run Bowl was a real disappointment to the fans of the boys in blue. It was a rout. And that picnic! Well, it was absolutely ruined! Thoroughly discombobulated, before they had even finished the chicken wings, the panicked picknickers had to hitch up their horses, grab their spyglasses and parasols and beat a hasty retreat back to Washington in the wake of the even hastier Union troops.

 

So, this wasn’t going to be a “fun” war after all. What a disappointment to the Washingtonian beau monde.

 

Human beings love war, don’t we? Indeed, we love it even more than we love the many other forms of death-making that we have so ingeniously invented: beheadings, hangings, firing squads, crucifixions, stonings, impalings, auto da fés, etc.—many of which, when publicly-sanctioned, have also been creatively turned into spectator events. But a nice war, well, that’s really “da bomb.”

 I’ve adopted a sarcastic tone (in case you haven’t noticed), but I am actually pretty distressed by this undeniable human trait—which I, to my bemusement, share. I, too, am fascinated by the prospect of a new war—one of which is currently brewing in Ukraine, a former “affiliated state” which Russia apparently wants to reclaim and on whose borders the Russian army has built up an impressive striking force. At this moment, all that remains is for President Putin to give the signal to invade. Everyone is waiting breathlessly, picnics at least metaphorically packed, ready to watch on our home screens (thanks to “embedded” journalists) the incarnadine spectacle of masses of Ukrainians being slaughtered by Russians (and perhaps a bit vice-versa).

And since, for once, Americans will not be directly involved—merely Ukrainian and Russian homo sapiens with whom we have only the most tenuous of biological links—we can unabashedly enjoy the killing. It’s them, not us.

Of course, if it isn’t our guys out there dying, the actual outcome will be somewhat less thrilling—it will be someone else’s victory—but we’ll still have the adrenaline rush of witnessing the death of others while not dying ourselves.

Call it “vicarious death.” 

 

Because war isn’t just about “solving” otherwise insoluble conflicts—as we are sometimes told by dotty political scientists seeking rational explanations for nonsensical human behavior. Rather, wars are sometimes—indeed often—manufactured merely because human beings passionately need to watch others die in order to more thoroughly enjoy being themselves alive. 

 

That isn’t an entirely neighborly thought, is it? Well, never mind. Shut up, Ken, and prepare your picnic for the upcoming Ukrainian Bowl.