Just for a moment there was a left hand rising.
Only a fractional second.
There it was.
Left hand rising.
A salute begun,then halted.
And I was so very ashamed.
I hail from the state of that left hand salute. I am of the cohort of that left had saluter. I am a subject of Gov. Pawlenty. For a few days, at least.
The saluter in question neither served in the military, nor does he know the military. I grew up in a home of an overly devoted to the military mother and a reluctant to have served father. Both served in the time of WWII. My father saw active duty, my mother did not.
Which was the greater patriot? I don't know.
My father damned all wars. He claimed they were rackets to elect politicians that knew nothing of life and death, putting food on the table, nor of true honor. Honor did not mean killing 'Japs' or the evil "Nazis".
I do know that my father thought bringing any Germans into the US after WWII. Mum, much talking later, said that if they were truly allegiant to the Constitution, then all was well.
I am not so sure.
And there is that almost left hand salute.
That is the salute that has been given to this nation since November, 2000.
It also was given, that little lefty, to the reciptient of the first Si;lver Star given to any soldier in Minnesota since WWII. And I was mortified.
I shall not name the name of the soldier, for that is merely heaping embarrassment on the happenings of his award ceremony.
Please notice, I didn't note that 'great day', post a September, 2001 as my source of irksomeness, nor did I note the other great days since VE or VJ day.
Since November, 2000 we have seen the Constitution of the United States truly trampled upon by zealots and war mongers. We have had our music silenced. We have had the nation made less proud and more afraid.
Well, there is one thing that I learned from that Constitution, and that is simple. If we extend the rule of law, as we adhere to it, we have little to fear. If we toss the rule of law over the gunwales, we have much to fear. It is only the rule of law that keeps us from becoming a barbaric nation.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
The DCCC Called Today...
...and I felt wonderful about the call. Really. Honestly. I enjoyed that call the way I've enjoyed few solici-beggars in life.
You may be asking 'Huh???' You might be thinking, 'I want whatever you were smoking/drinking/inhaling--please pass the laughing gas, we're running out."
Indeed.
What happened was this. The designated beggar from the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee (DCCC) gave me the whole, we've turned the Congress around and are doing a great job spiel. "Attorney General Gonzales resigned because of the Congressional investigations."
Okay, that caused a moment of mental whiplash.
I heard, "The DCCC has been hampered by Republican tactics".
More mental whiplash.
"Investigations are continuing and they are effective in changing the course of the nation."
Okay, I was doing the whole Exorcist, how long can your head spin before the pea soup stains the curtains as it flies out of every available orifice, thing. And then, I got clarity.
I got my voice.
I said this.
"The DCCC would have a contribution for me if, and I repeat if and only if, they put impeachment back on the table. "
Solicitous-beggar shot back, "the investigations are proceeding and are effective. After all, Karl Rove and Atty. Gen. Gonzales are go..."
Okay. I was rude. I interrupted.
"No. The DCCC has done nothing to reign in the powers seized by this Executive that have stripped out habeas corpus, who've issued Executive Orders causing our nation to cease functioning as the Republic it was intended to be, and the DCCC has done nothing to stop the aggression of this Executive regarding warmaking. The DCCC hasn't stopped torture, they've not gotten to the bottom of lying us into a way, and they've worked with the Republicans, most recently to rescind the Fourth Amendment. The DCCC have sat on their hands presuming that the People think they can't walk and chew gum at the same time. In Nixon's days, the Congress got a lot done, and they started down the road to impeachment.
And Solici-Beggar wished me a nice day and then she hung up on me.
And that was rude.
On her part.
The thing is this. Unless and until the DCCC gets it into their pretty little heads that the doctrine of impeachment is off the table, and unless and until the DCCC understands that cooperating in a "bipartisan way" is really political speak for continuing the destruction of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, there ain't gonna be any money from my pocket to theirs.
Period.
I call the rest of those that love the Constitution more than party politics, more than power, more than lobbying fees, more than junkets, more than the name on the door (followed by named political office), this country will experience no real change for the better.
In 2006 the DCCC campaign slogan was "Had enough?"
To this day, the slogan is still, for me, "I've had enough." Only the enough that I've had enough of is the way Speaker Pelosi sets the damned table. Or un-sets it, if you want to be completely honest. And the DCCC is with her all the way.
Hint: Main Course = Impeachment.
That's right. Impeach the lot of them. Every one of them that has left us with one assurance, for now, Constitutionally speaking. That assurance is that quartering of troops won't be in our homes without compensation. KBR and Halliburton do it better for so much more money after all.
Unless and until the DCCC, and for that matter the rest of the country realize this, we are going to have despots, thugs and imperialists running the government because people are not going to vote for people that don't get results. And results from the Mid-Terms are lacking.
They came to Congress under a mandate, as certain as a mandate could be with electronic voting in play, and were told, "Give us our government by, of and for the People back to us."
That hasn't happened. Ms. Pelosi's table is still wanting that main course. I want someone to feed the Constitution. I am, like the Constitution, hungry.
If, in future, we look back at this time in our history where we've destroyed our beloved government, ripped the Constitution to shreds, and become an imperial aggressor, all in the name of "keeping us safe from the terrrr'sts", we'll only look to Ben Franklin who said those willing to sacrifice liberty for safety deserve neither.
For now, the DCCC is getting none of my money. In fact, there is no candidate that will get one thin dime from me, nor will I ever work for, vote for, or support any candidate that puts politics ahead of principle and their own political hide over my Bill of Rights.
Like I said, it was a good conversation.
Go for it Mr. Conyers. I understand that Impeachment is on your table. Let me know where and when to show up to support that move.
Ms. Pelosi, without impeachment so as to reign in the imperial, despotic powers seized by this President and Vice President pursuant to Executive Order, your table is bare, my Constitution is in shreds and frankly my liberty is in jeopardy from the actions of my own government. I cannot support any more of that.
Ever.
In case you're wondering, Ms. Pelosi, I am sitting at an empty table. And I am hungry.
You may be asking 'Huh???' You might be thinking, 'I want whatever you were smoking/drinking/inhaling--please pass the laughing gas, we're running out."
Indeed.
What happened was this. The designated beggar from the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee (DCCC) gave me the whole, we've turned the Congress around and are doing a great job spiel. "Attorney General Gonzales resigned because of the Congressional investigations."
Okay, that caused a moment of mental whiplash.
I heard, "The DCCC has been hampered by Republican tactics".
More mental whiplash.
"Investigations are continuing and they are effective in changing the course of the nation."
Okay, I was doing the whole Exorcist, how long can your head spin before the pea soup stains the curtains as it flies out of every available orifice, thing. And then, I got clarity.
I got my voice.
I said this.
"The DCCC would have a contribution for me if, and I repeat if and only if, they put impeachment back on the table. "
Solicitous-beggar shot back, "the investigations are proceeding and are effective. After all, Karl Rove and Atty. Gen. Gonzales are go..."
Okay. I was rude. I interrupted.
"No. The DCCC has done nothing to reign in the powers seized by this Executive that have stripped out habeas corpus, who've issued Executive Orders causing our nation to cease functioning as the Republic it was intended to be, and the DCCC has done nothing to stop the aggression of this Executive regarding warmaking. The DCCC hasn't stopped torture, they've not gotten to the bottom of lying us into a way, and they've worked with the Republicans, most recently to rescind the Fourth Amendment. The DCCC have sat on their hands presuming that the People think they can't walk and chew gum at the same time. In Nixon's days, the Congress got a lot done, and they started down the road to impeachment.
And Solici-Beggar wished me a nice day and then she hung up on me.
And that was rude.
On her part.
The thing is this. Unless and until the DCCC gets it into their pretty little heads that the doctrine of impeachment is off the table, and unless and until the DCCC understands that cooperating in a "bipartisan way" is really political speak for continuing the destruction of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, there ain't gonna be any money from my pocket to theirs.
Period.
I call the rest of those that love the Constitution more than party politics, more than power, more than lobbying fees, more than junkets, more than the name on the door (followed by named political office), this country will experience no real change for the better.
In 2006 the DCCC campaign slogan was "Had enough?"
To this day, the slogan is still, for me, "I've had enough." Only the enough that I've had enough of is the way Speaker Pelosi sets the damned table. Or un-sets it, if you want to be completely honest. And the DCCC is with her all the way.
Hint: Main Course = Impeachment.
That's right. Impeach the lot of them. Every one of them that has left us with one assurance, for now, Constitutionally speaking. That assurance is that quartering of troops won't be in our homes without compensation. KBR and Halliburton do it better for so much more money after all.
Unless and until the DCCC, and for that matter the rest of the country realize this, we are going to have despots, thugs and imperialists running the government because people are not going to vote for people that don't get results. And results from the Mid-Terms are lacking.
They came to Congress under a mandate, as certain as a mandate could be with electronic voting in play, and were told, "Give us our government by, of and for the People back to us."
That hasn't happened. Ms. Pelosi's table is still wanting that main course. I want someone to feed the Constitution. I am, like the Constitution, hungry.
If, in future, we look back at this time in our history where we've destroyed our beloved government, ripped the Constitution to shreds, and become an imperial aggressor, all in the name of "keeping us safe from the terrrr'sts", we'll only look to Ben Franklin who said those willing to sacrifice liberty for safety deserve neither.
For now, the DCCC is getting none of my money. In fact, there is no candidate that will get one thin dime from me, nor will I ever work for, vote for, or support any candidate that puts politics ahead of principle and their own political hide over my Bill of Rights.
Like I said, it was a good conversation.
Go for it Mr. Conyers. I understand that Impeachment is on your table. Let me know where and when to show up to support that move.
Ms. Pelosi, without impeachment so as to reign in the imperial, despotic powers seized by this President and Vice President pursuant to Executive Order, your table is bare, my Constitution is in shreds and frankly my liberty is in jeopardy from the actions of my own government. I cannot support any more of that.
Ever.
In case you're wondering, Ms. Pelosi, I am sitting at an empty table. And I am hungry.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Why the Silence?
Simple answer to the question.
I don't want to bring down wiretaps and other surveillance. So, until I figure out what I can say without the danger of losing my Fourth Amendment rights, with or without my knowledge, I am remaining silent.
Also, if my big mouth goes the way my big mouth goes, then I also remain silent so as not to go slip sliding away to some detention facility for the duration of the endless campaign against evildoers.
Ergo, silence.
I don't want to bring down wiretaps and other surveillance. So, until I figure out what I can say without the danger of losing my Fourth Amendment rights, with or without my knowledge, I am remaining silent.
Also, if my big mouth goes the way my big mouth goes, then I also remain silent so as not to go slip sliding away to some detention facility for the duration of the endless campaign against evildoers.
Ergo, silence.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Does The Most Important Oath Citizens Take Expire?
I've taken the oath.
Chances are, many people you know have taken the oath.
All members of the Senate have taken the oath just as all Representatives have taken the oath.
Everyone in the Executive Branch, including the President and Vice President, have taken the oath.
The oath is a loyalty oath. It is the only oath citizens of the US are required to take. Ever.
It is not based on religion, though faith is certainly behind it. There is faith that those taking the oath will live up to the words they solemnly utter. And, there is faith that the taking of the oath will spark a continuing acknowledgment and fulfillment of duty based on the fact that words matter.
The oath is a sworn statement that lays out your duties for the future. Within that oath, the duties are clear, and do not have a "sell by" date. Sadly, the behaviour of many in government indicates they are selling right left and center even as they utter those words of duty.
Members of the government, and citizens, have taken this loyalty oath for literally hundreds of years.
The President has taken this loyalty oath, as has the Vice President.
It has no expiry date, and should never be treated as 'yesterday's obligation' or 'yesterday's behavioural imperative. It lasts so long as the person is working for the government, err, working for the People who ARE the government. In the best of all possible worlds, the oath applies to all persons, working in, for, or who are citizens. In the reality of citizenship, once taken, it ought never expire.
While the duties imposed can be complex, the oath itself is simple.
The 'money quote' is 'to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America from all enemies, foreign and domestic..." There is no mention of political party. There is no duty to a person. There is no duty to an office. There is no duty to a coalition. There is no pledge to a symbol, such as the flag. There is no duty to self. There is no duty except to the Constitution of the United States of America.
The Constitution is above loyalty to person or party. The oath to the Constitution is not an oath to protect a symbol. We don't swear loyalty, nor do we exercise fealty to a symbol. We swear to preserve, protect and defend the living Constitution of the United States of America, for the Constitution is the heart of America. The Constitution is as close as we Americans get to Holy Writ. It, and it alone, is the foundation of the supreme law of the land.
The Bill of Rights, despite having been rescinded for all practical purposes due to signing statements, Executive Orders and legislation that has trampled on the very fabric of and lifeblood of the nation, remains on the books.
And all that signed that legislation, that entered those orders, that have submitted resolutions that have done the trampling, took that oath to protect the Constitution. Apparently, they "cannot recall" their oath, at least if behaviour is the measurement of memory. They've scuppered their duties, ignored their obligations, and done everything they can to rip the Constitution to shreds, but there you have it. All nicely done and legal because when "the government does it, then it is not illegal", and if it were, we won't let you even see the evidence. Ever. Thank you Richard Nixon.
When the FISA Revision Act that finally destroyed the Fourth Amendment was voted on, all those voting had pledged NOT to destroy the Fourth Amendment. Then they went ahead and did it anyway. There are so many examples, it would take a month just to compile the list.
Not one of those oath breakers and oath makers will step up and place the Constitution above their immediate personal goals of higher office, retention of office or the "appearance of being tough on terror". Power first, fulfillment of duty under the oath they took, second. Party before the People.
The people, governed by that Constitution, do not agree. The People are angry that the Constitution we cherish is more suited to lining Tweetie's cage. It is now just a piece of paper. Among those angry people are former members of the armed services, former postal workers, former government workers. Oath breakers all, believe it or not at your peril, citizens who realized long ago that the Constitution is there to protect and preserve their rights against monarchical behavior, are simply fed up.
Speaker Pelosi needs a new table. Candidates for President need a new platform. The Executive needs to loose the monarchical toys it has acquired in these past six plus years. The Congress needs to recognize that they can chew gum and walk at the same time. Impeachment is in the Constitution SIX TIMES for a reason, and not to soak up printers ink. It is there to correct and bring us away from any one branch assuming monarchical power.
When did America decide that we could go anywhere in the world, arrest a person deemed to be an 'enemy', and hold that person for the rest of their natural life? when did America become the ruler of the world? When did we become an empire? When, in law enacted by Congress, was the President given authority to declare Martial Law on his own terms, based upon not one legislatively defined circumstance, so as to override all of the Constitution I took an oath to uphold?
Answer: Never.
So, why Speaker Pelosi do you put the Constitution last and your power first? Or the power of your party? And then cave on warrantless searches? And then fail to overturn the Executive Orders giving this President power to rule dictatorially?
Why?
Did your oath to the Constitution expire because this is coming up on an election year?
And candidates for President, why have you ignored the power grab in this Administration? Is it that you want all those shiny new powers? If you don't intend to fix this mess we are in right now, and I mean NOW, please withdraw your candidacy. I'll not be voting for any of you.
Those freshmen Representatives and Senators that caved on the "No Checks--No Balances" FISA Revision, repeal the Fourth Amendment" Act of 2007, please don't run for office as an incumbent. We didn't send you to Washington to ignore the Constitution or to fail to protect our rights. We don't want you representing us because you have shown you cannot represent us and protect our Constitution. That makes you either ineffective or craven. Pick your poison.
Well, truth to tell, I don't want anyone to have them. What I fear is any person, President or ordinary citizen, having the kind of power over me that currently is vested in the President. And it is time to change.
If, after impeachment proceedings are instituted and the Administration says, "We were wrong, we see the light, we breached the boundaries established in the Constitution", then impeachment can come off the table.
Until then, note this. I have and will continue to fulfill my oath which I took seriously and which has never, to my knowledge expired. Please, members of Congress, fulfill your oath. And do it soon, before there is no Constitution to protect any longer.
Sure the terrorists are out to get us. Not one of them made any in government shred the Constitution though. That is a self-inflicted wound that must be healed. The healing requires that those who have taken their oath, realize the importance of those words.
Preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.
If you ask me, yesterday would not be too soon.
Chances are, many people you know have taken the oath.
All members of the Senate have taken the oath just as all Representatives have taken the oath.
Everyone in the Executive Branch, including the President and Vice President, have taken the oath.
The oath is a loyalty oath. It is the only oath citizens of the US are required to take. Ever.
It is not based on religion, though faith is certainly behind it. There is faith that those taking the oath will live up to the words they solemnly utter. And, there is faith that the taking of the oath will spark a continuing acknowledgment and fulfillment of duty based on the fact that words matter.
The oath is a sworn statement that lays out your duties for the future. Within that oath, the duties are clear, and do not have a "sell by" date. Sadly, the behaviour of many in government indicates they are selling right left and center even as they utter those words of duty.
Members of the government, and citizens, have taken this loyalty oath for literally hundreds of years.
The President has taken this loyalty oath, as has the Vice President.
It has no expiry date, and should never be treated as 'yesterday's obligation' or 'yesterday's behavioural imperative. It lasts so long as the person is working for the government, err, working for the People who ARE the government. In the best of all possible worlds, the oath applies to all persons, working in, for, or who are citizens. In the reality of citizenship, once taken, it ought never expire.
While the duties imposed can be complex, the oath itself is simple.
The 'money quote' is 'to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America from all enemies, foreign and domestic..." There is no mention of political party. There is no duty to a person. There is no duty to an office. There is no duty to a coalition. There is no pledge to a symbol, such as the flag. There is no duty to self. There is no duty except to the Constitution of the United States of America.
The Constitution is above loyalty to person or party. The oath to the Constitution is not an oath to protect a symbol. We don't swear loyalty, nor do we exercise fealty to a symbol. We swear to preserve, protect and defend the living Constitution of the United States of America, for the Constitution is the heart of America. The Constitution is as close as we Americans get to Holy Writ. It, and it alone, is the foundation of the supreme law of the land.
The Bill of Rights, despite having been rescinded for all practical purposes due to signing statements, Executive Orders and legislation that has trampled on the very fabric of and lifeblood of the nation, remains on the books.
And all that signed that legislation, that entered those orders, that have submitted resolutions that have done the trampling, took that oath to protect the Constitution. Apparently, they "cannot recall" their oath, at least if behaviour is the measurement of memory. They've scuppered their duties, ignored their obligations, and done everything they can to rip the Constitution to shreds, but there you have it. All nicely done and legal because when "the government does it, then it is not illegal", and if it were, we won't let you even see the evidence. Ever. Thank you Richard Nixon.
When the FISA Revision Act that finally destroyed the Fourth Amendment was voted on, all those voting had pledged NOT to destroy the Fourth Amendment. Then they went ahead and did it anyway. There are so many examples, it would take a month just to compile the list.
Not one of those oath breakers and oath makers will step up and place the Constitution above their immediate personal goals of higher office, retention of office or the "appearance of being tough on terror". Power first, fulfillment of duty under the oath they took, second. Party before the People.
The people, governed by that Constitution, do not agree. The People are angry that the Constitution we cherish is more suited to lining Tweetie's cage. It is now just a piece of paper. Among those angry people are former members of the armed services, former postal workers, former government workers. Oath breakers all, believe it or not at your peril, citizens who realized long ago that the Constitution is there to protect and preserve their rights against monarchical behavior, are simply fed up.
Speaker Pelosi needs a new table. Candidates for President need a new platform. The Executive needs to loose the monarchical toys it has acquired in these past six plus years. The Congress needs to recognize that they can chew gum and walk at the same time. Impeachment is in the Constitution SIX TIMES for a reason, and not to soak up printers ink. It is there to correct and bring us away from any one branch assuming monarchical power.
When did America decide that we could go anywhere in the world, arrest a person deemed to be an 'enemy', and hold that person for the rest of their natural life? when did America become the ruler of the world? When did we become an empire? When, in law enacted by Congress, was the President given authority to declare Martial Law on his own terms, based upon not one legislatively defined circumstance, so as to override all of the Constitution I took an oath to uphold?
Answer: Never.
So, why Speaker Pelosi do you put the Constitution last and your power first? Or the power of your party? And then cave on warrantless searches? And then fail to overturn the Executive Orders giving this President power to rule dictatorially?
Why?
Did your oath to the Constitution expire because this is coming up on an election year?
And candidates for President, why have you ignored the power grab in this Administration? Is it that you want all those shiny new powers? If you don't intend to fix this mess we are in right now, and I mean NOW, please withdraw your candidacy. I'll not be voting for any of you.
Those freshmen Representatives and Senators that caved on the "No Checks--No Balances" FISA Revision, repeal the Fourth Amendment" Act of 2007, please don't run for office as an incumbent. We didn't send you to Washington to ignore the Constitution or to fail to protect our rights. We don't want you representing us because you have shown you cannot represent us and protect our Constitution. That makes you either ineffective or craven. Pick your poison.
Well, truth to tell, I don't want anyone to have them. What I fear is any person, President or ordinary citizen, having the kind of power over me that currently is vested in the President. And it is time to change.
If, after impeachment proceedings are instituted and the Administration says, "We were wrong, we see the light, we breached the boundaries established in the Constitution", then impeachment can come off the table.
Until then, note this. I have and will continue to fulfill my oath which I took seriously and which has never, to my knowledge expired. Please, members of Congress, fulfill your oath. And do it soon, before there is no Constitution to protect any longer.
Sure the terrorists are out to get us. Not one of them made any in government shred the Constitution though. That is a self-inflicted wound that must be healed. The healing requires that those who have taken their oath, realize the importance of those words.
Preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.
If you ask me, yesterday would not be too soon.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
The Terrorism of Neglect
You read that right. The biggest terrorism we have to fear in this nation is not the violence and death carried out by the Bin Ladin Boys, nor the violent and fanatical who have no legitimate claim to a religion of peace. We need not fear nearly so much as we do, swarthy men wielding box cutters or shoe bombs (although allowing cigarette lighters on planes is just asking for some idiot to light a terrible and terrifying cigar in the loo).
In America, you have a better chance of winning the Lotto or getting struck by lightning than you do of becoming a victim of "the folks" that brought planes crashing into buildings.
You have a greater chance of dying while eating a peanut (choking on it or finding you are allergic) than you have of being a victim of violent terrorism.
That's right. But you have, on any given day, a 50 percent chance of dying while using infrastructure that has been systematically ignored for decades. The I35 Bridge Too Broken proved that. That particular bridge had, for over two years, been out there, available to public use, all while having a 50 percent chance of catastrophic failure. Like collapse. Like killing people due to that not so benign neglect.
Let it sink in. A huge chance, right up there in league with flipping a coin. Nick Coleman, Twin Cities Curmudgeon in Residence put it well in his Star Tribune piece
.
"This Bridge might or might not get you to the other side. Verify by coin flip -- if you dare". Of course, the flipped coin won't affect the structural integrity of the bridge, won't guarantee safe passage, won't do anything but make you feel that you've done something in the nature of rubbing a talisman as you take your life, and the lives of your family and friends in hand as you cross.
Gee, I feel safer already. I can use toll money for those long trips for double duty. Pay as I travel through Illinois, and check the odds on living to cross a bridge. That's monetary multitasking run amok.
Sadly it all does come down to money. Twice in his administration, Governor Pawlenty has vetoed bills that would have guaranteed money dedicated to transportation (read preserving the safety of infrastructure) and now is trying to claim the Republican controlled Legislative Branch in Minnesota had nothing to do with it. Nope. Not his fault. Blame the Democrats.
Ditto President Bush. The Republicans were in control for six of the past six and a half years, and money has been spent like drunken sailors on everything from Pork A to Pork Zed, plus a War to Nowhere and the infamous Bridge to the same place. But it's the Democrats fault. Yep, in the past seven months, the Democrats were supposed to fix all that was wrong, and vote on new legislation, all while dancing the tarantella on the head of a pin.
No, no, no, no, NO!!!!!
It is the fault of all of us, and those in control of government that have forgotten even a well built house that is not maintained, will fall. We have built our financial priorities on sand. We allow government to spend money like crazy, and if we pay attention, we know that the spending we do indicates our priorities.
We've studiously avoided spending on infrastructure, including the most recent budgets from the President, where he again proposed nothing even close to what is needed to repair and maintain (or replace) necessary bridges.
According to ABC News:
In other words, it's not just a collapsing bridge incident killing us due to poorly maintained infrastructure. Each of those deaths, every injury attributable to unsafe roads, shows our priorities. We spend according to what is important. Public health and safety at home is far down the list for the present administration.
President Bush allowed, no encouraged, pharmaceutical companies to write Medicare Part D, which is costing over 3 times what it should if government were allowed to negotiate prices for drugs needed by the elderly and disabled, while 47 million go uninsured. (The population of the US is just over 300 million, so that's about one sixth of all of us without insurance.)
Of course, President Bush can come up with billions for mercenary soldiers in Iraq, for equipment that is destroyed and for cost plus contracts, but our roads are neglected.
We've cut spending, in real dollars, for education, healthcare, food inspection, drug safety and pollution control.
President Bush has made a religion of sorts out of cutting revenue while infrastructure, such as the poorly maintained levies in New Orleans collapsed in the wake of Katrina. It is more important for us to give tax cuts to the wealthy as the nation crumbles from within.
What of those that died Wednesday? Were there any potential millionaires in that group that could have become one of the recipients of Republican largess? We'll never know now.
To be totally fair, it's not just been the Republican religion of not so benign neglect of the structures that provide safety and are key to the economy. But these past six years, the policies of the Bush Administration and their Congressional cronies, and Republican controlled state houses have made the problems worse as the roads we depend upon reach the end of their 50 year lifespan.
There was no indication of terrorism in the sense of bombs or bombers, in the collapse of the Bridge Too Broken. Except for this. Every time you ride across a bridge, are you thinking 'I wonder--is this one gonna go too?'. If so, you have been terrorized. Rightly so.
And the Republicans currently in positions of power are pointing fingers everywhere but at themselves.
Once again, with the cooperation of Republicans in power, neglect has caused multiple fatalities and a sense we are not safe. Not even driving to grandma's house. Be afraid. Be very afraid. The effects from this terror of neglect are just beginning.
How many needed to die to show us our folly in ignoring public safety? How many needed to die to show us we need to repair roads? In truth none. At least, if we are honest, we would admit that. And we would begin a War on The Terror of Neglect this very moment. If we fail, once again, the terrorists will win, more bridges will truly go 'nowhere' and more will be injured and die.
In America, you have a better chance of winning the Lotto or getting struck by lightning than you do of becoming a victim of "the folks" that brought planes crashing into buildings.
You have a greater chance of dying while eating a peanut (choking on it or finding you are allergic) than you have of being a victim of violent terrorism.
That's right. But you have, on any given day, a 50 percent chance of dying while using infrastructure that has been systematically ignored for decades. The I35 Bridge Too Broken proved that. That particular bridge had, for over two years, been out there, available to public use, all while having a 50 percent chance of catastrophic failure. Like collapse. Like killing people due to that not so benign neglect.
Let it sink in. A huge chance, right up there in league with flipping a coin. Nick Coleman, Twin Cities Curmudgeon in Residence put it well in his Star Tribune piece
Would you drive your kids or let your spouse drive over a bridge that had a sign saying, "CAUTION: Fifty-Percent Bridge Ahead"?
.
"This Bridge might or might not get you to the other side. Verify by coin flip -- if you dare". Of course, the flipped coin won't affect the structural integrity of the bridge, won't guarantee safe passage, won't do anything but make you feel that you've done something in the nature of rubbing a talisman as you take your life, and the lives of your family and friends in hand as you cross.
Gee, I feel safer already. I can use toll money for those long trips for double duty. Pay as I travel through Illinois, and check the odds on living to cross a bridge. That's monetary multitasking run amok.
Sadly it all does come down to money. Twice in his administration, Governor Pawlenty has vetoed bills that would have guaranteed money dedicated to transportation (read preserving the safety of infrastructure) and now is trying to claim the Republican controlled Legislative Branch in Minnesota had nothing to do with it. Nope. Not his fault. Blame the Democrats.
Ditto President Bush. The Republicans were in control for six of the past six and a half years, and money has been spent like drunken sailors on everything from Pork A to Pork Zed, plus a War to Nowhere and the infamous Bridge to the same place. But it's the Democrats fault. Yep, in the past seven months, the Democrats were supposed to fix all that was wrong, and vote on new legislation, all while dancing the tarantella on the head of a pin.
No, no, no, no, NO!!!!!
It is the fault of all of us, and those in control of government that have forgotten even a well built house that is not maintained, will fall. We have built our financial priorities on sand. We allow government to spend money like crazy, and if we pay attention, we know that the spending we do indicates our priorities.
We've studiously avoided spending on infrastructure, including the most recent budgets from the President, where he again proposed nothing even close to what is needed to repair and maintain (or replace) necessary bridges.
The budget I've sent to Congress fully funds America's priorities. It increases discretionary spending by 6.9 percent. My Cabinet Secretaries assure me that this is adequate to meet the needs of our nation.
According to ABC News:
Highway engineers say the neglect of America's infrastructure costs lives every day. More than 40,000 people die in highway accidents each year.
Road conditions, the engineers say, are a factor in almost one-third of those deaths.
America's most important road system — 46,000 miles of interstate highway — is now half a century old.
A report card two years ago from the American Society of Civil Engineers said that 34 percent of major roads are in poor or mediocre condition.
And that's not all.
The civil engineers say the number of unsafe dams has risen by more than 33 percent in the past two years, and in that time, there have been 29 dam failures.
Power capacity isn't keeping pace with demand, and the power grid needs $10 billion a year invested over the next five years.
And, according to civil engineers, 27 percent of U.S. bridges are structurally deficient.
In other words, it's not just a collapsing bridge incident killing us due to poorly maintained infrastructure. Each of those deaths, every injury attributable to unsafe roads, shows our priorities. We spend according to what is important. Public health and safety at home is far down the list for the present administration.
President Bush allowed, no encouraged, pharmaceutical companies to write Medicare Part D, which is costing over 3 times what it should if government were allowed to negotiate prices for drugs needed by the elderly and disabled, while 47 million go uninsured. (The population of the US is just over 300 million, so that's about one sixth of all of us without insurance.)
Of course, President Bush can come up with billions for mercenary soldiers in Iraq, for equipment that is destroyed and for cost plus contracts, but our roads are neglected.
We've cut spending, in real dollars, for education, healthcare, food inspection, drug safety and pollution control.
President Bush has made a religion of sorts out of cutting revenue while infrastructure, such as the poorly maintained levies in New Orleans collapsed in the wake of Katrina. It is more important for us to give tax cuts to the wealthy as the nation crumbles from within.
What of those that died Wednesday? Were there any potential millionaires in that group that could have become one of the recipients of Republican largess? We'll never know now.
To be totally fair, it's not just been the Republican religion of not so benign neglect of the structures that provide safety and are key to the economy. But these past six years, the policies of the Bush Administration and their Congressional cronies, and Republican controlled state houses have made the problems worse as the roads we depend upon reach the end of their 50 year lifespan.
There was no indication of terrorism in the sense of bombs or bombers, in the collapse of the Bridge Too Broken. Except for this. Every time you ride across a bridge, are you thinking 'I wonder--is this one gonna go too?'. If so, you have been terrorized. Rightly so.
And the Republicans currently in positions of power are pointing fingers everywhere but at themselves.
Once again, with the cooperation of Republicans in power, neglect has caused multiple fatalities and a sense we are not safe. Not even driving to grandma's house. Be afraid. Be very afraid. The effects from this terror of neglect are just beginning.
How many needed to die to show us our folly in ignoring public safety? How many needed to die to show us we need to repair roads? In truth none. At least, if we are honest, we would admit that. And we would begin a War on The Terror of Neglect this very moment. If we fail, once again, the terrorists will win, more bridges will truly go 'nowhere' and more will be injured and die.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Failing Grades DO NOT Equal Safe Grades
In inspections conducted in 2005 and 2006, the bridge received ratings. On a scale of one to nine, nine being perfectly safe, this bridge received a four. What does that mean?
That was the gist of a question by Jim Lehrer (NewsHour, PBS, 8/2/07) about the Bridge Too Broken in Minneapolis. The answer given on the program is not even at issue for me. What matters is that it is 2007 and the Bridge Too Broken (I35W Bridge, collapsed August 1, 2007) had been failing for TWO YEARS!!!
The Bridge Too Broken received failing grades as far back as 1990. It was rated for a 50 percent chance of catastrophic failure in 2005 and 2006. That's worse than Russian Roulette. At least if you're foolish enough to play that game, you've only got a 1 in 6 chance of blowing your own head off.
Now, if the bridge were a heart-lung machine, and received a rating that meant essentially sometime in the next months, there was a 50 percent chance of catastrophic failure, there would have been immediate action. If failure would result in patient death, the medical profession would have insisted the hospital where such a machine was located, would replace the machine. No medical roulette. Just a fix or replacement. Pronto.
If the Bridge Too Broken were a toy having a 50 percent chance, at one time or the other before repair of causing mayhem, or death to a child, the toy would be recalled. Perhaps millions of such toys.
If the Bridge Too Broken were a food, such as say hamburger, with even a 10 percent chance of infecting people eating that food with some serious disease, the food would be recalled. The machinery used in making that food would be replaced or repaired, and life would go on.
But it's a bridge. Repairs aren't flashy. In fact, if the bridge had been fixed, after spending millions or even a billion dollars, the result would have been a bridge that looked essentially the same as it looked last year. Or the year before. Or the decade before.
Nope, not flashy. And not what we have right now.
It's not just bridges. It's everything here in the United States that brings cars from place to place, people from place to place, water, sewage, electricity, heating and those things we take for granted to us as we go about life without danger to life and limb. And not one bit of it is flashy.
We can sell billions of weapons to the wealthiest countries and call it "Military Aid". We can plunge billions into voting machines that don't work accurately, then hold off on fixing them because the fixing might be a tad chaotic. (Or we could have an election with paper and pencils and people counting the votes, using tally sheets. Just like countries that have democratic processes that work very well thank you, such as Canada, the United Kingdom, France and even Iraq.)
Yes, we brought democracy to Iraq, but didn't even think of putting those electronic gizmo's that can be hacked into all the poling places because they don't have the infrastructure to support them. They don't have the electricity, and without electricity, the whiz-bang voting machines wouldn't even appear secure to the voters.
But I digress.
We are so intent on building the flashy stuff. We are like magpies, accruing the shiny bits in our surroundings that we forget a nest that isn't secure won't support the living creatures that will be born there and grow up there. A bird, no matter how much flash they want to entice a mate, pays attention first to the infrastructure. If they return year after year to the same nest, they repair first, bring the flashy bits later.
Flash is an afterthought. Infrastructure is a constant need.
We've spent the past decades presuming that since the bridges, roads, steam pipes, electric grids, and water systems we depend upon work, that those things will work forever. Without repair. Without structural integrity. We presume the bridge will be there even if the bridge receives failing grades for TWO YEARS!!!
We are wrong.
We are willing to take chances with our lives, and the lives of babies, mothers and school children to spend more on those shiny weapons for wealthy nations, or to bomb others into the stone age.
The purpose of government is to promote the public welfare. None of us, not one of us, is wealthy enough to be able to afford to construct all the parts of infrastructure that serve us daily, but only building those parts large enough to support each of us alone. We have government for that.
We have concentrated our public building on stadiums and sports arenas, forgetting that fans won't show up if they are lying at the bottom of a river after attempting to attend a game in one of those flashy, shiny new stadiums built with public dollars.
We allow ourselves to use aging and unsafe infrastructure on a daily basis. If the supports of our own homes were inspected and given a failing grade, we would replace or repair. Why don't we have the same urgency about roads that receive failing grades for multiple years in a row?
That was the gist of a question by Jim Lehrer (NewsHour, PBS, 8/2/07) about the Bridge Too Broken in Minneapolis. The answer given on the program is not even at issue for me. What matters is that it is 2007 and the Bridge Too Broken (I35W Bridge, collapsed August 1, 2007) had been failing for TWO YEARS!!!
The Bridge Too Broken received failing grades as far back as 1990. It was rated for a 50 percent chance of catastrophic failure in 2005 and 2006. That's worse than Russian Roulette. At least if you're foolish enough to play that game, you've only got a 1 in 6 chance of blowing your own head off.
Now, if the bridge were a heart-lung machine, and received a rating that meant essentially sometime in the next months, there was a 50 percent chance of catastrophic failure, there would have been immediate action. If failure would result in patient death, the medical profession would have insisted the hospital where such a machine was located, would replace the machine. No medical roulette. Just a fix or replacement. Pronto.
If the Bridge Too Broken were a toy having a 50 percent chance, at one time or the other before repair of causing mayhem, or death to a child, the toy would be recalled. Perhaps millions of such toys.
If the Bridge Too Broken were a food, such as say hamburger, with even a 10 percent chance of infecting people eating that food with some serious disease, the food would be recalled. The machinery used in making that food would be replaced or repaired, and life would go on.
But it's a bridge. Repairs aren't flashy. In fact, if the bridge had been fixed, after spending millions or even a billion dollars, the result would have been a bridge that looked essentially the same as it looked last year. Or the year before. Or the decade before.
Nope, not flashy. And not what we have right now.
It's not just bridges. It's everything here in the United States that brings cars from place to place, people from place to place, water, sewage, electricity, heating and those things we take for granted to us as we go about life without danger to life and limb. And not one bit of it is flashy.
We can sell billions of weapons to the wealthiest countries and call it "Military Aid". We can plunge billions into voting machines that don't work accurately, then hold off on fixing them because the fixing might be a tad chaotic. (Or we could have an election with paper and pencils and people counting the votes, using tally sheets. Just like countries that have democratic processes that work very well thank you, such as Canada, the United Kingdom, France and even Iraq.)
Yes, we brought democracy to Iraq, but didn't even think of putting those electronic gizmo's that can be hacked into all the poling places because they don't have the infrastructure to support them. They don't have the electricity, and without electricity, the whiz-bang voting machines wouldn't even appear secure to the voters.
But I digress.
We are so intent on building the flashy stuff. We are like magpies, accruing the shiny bits in our surroundings that we forget a nest that isn't secure won't support the living creatures that will be born there and grow up there. A bird, no matter how much flash they want to entice a mate, pays attention first to the infrastructure. If they return year after year to the same nest, they repair first, bring the flashy bits later.
Flash is an afterthought. Infrastructure is a constant need.
We've spent the past decades presuming that since the bridges, roads, steam pipes, electric grids, and water systems we depend upon work, that those things will work forever. Without repair. Without structural integrity. We presume the bridge will be there even if the bridge receives failing grades for TWO YEARS!!!
We are wrong.
We are willing to take chances with our lives, and the lives of babies, mothers and school children to spend more on those shiny weapons for wealthy nations, or to bomb others into the stone age.
The purpose of government is to promote the public welfare. None of us, not one of us, is wealthy enough to be able to afford to construct all the parts of infrastructure that serve us daily, but only building those parts large enough to support each of us alone. We have government for that.
We have concentrated our public building on stadiums and sports arenas, forgetting that fans won't show up if they are lying at the bottom of a river after attempting to attend a game in one of those flashy, shiny new stadiums built with public dollars.
We allow ourselves to use aging and unsafe infrastructure on a daily basis. If the supports of our own homes were inspected and given a failing grade, we would replace or repair. Why don't we have the same urgency about roads that receive failing grades for multiple years in a row?
Thursday, August 2, 2007
A Bridge Too Broken
The 35W bridge that fell in my hometowns (Twin Cities) is right near the Stone Arch Bridge, which is a new bridge that looks old, and the Cedar Avenue Bridge, which is about the same vintage as the one that collapsed, within a decade or so.
In those frightening moments last evening, at least 9 people died (and counting) and many more nearly died. Huge numbers were injured. And the bridge that fell, the one resting at the bottom of the river, is a bridge that was unsafe. It was unsafe for TWO CONSECUTIVE YEARS OF INSPECTIONS.
The bridge that fell was a truss design, with the supports in the edges of the river, where current would be low, except during high water, flood conditions and storm surges. It was designed to last at least 50 years (refund anyone?) with normal traffic. Around here, traffic is equal to or worse than LA. There is no normal traffic, ever.
You can figure out if it was stress, poor maintenance, failure to address failing inspections, or just dumb bad luck.
Gov. Pawlenty (of Sen. McCain Campaign fame) is now saying that the bridge had a clean bill of health, all was well, and the collapse was never ever anticipated. That happens to be untrue, but What The H(eck).
You see, even as I write this, others are trying to rewrite history. To wit: Governor Pawlenty, who just this last legislative session vetoed a bill that would have provided $6 Billion for transportation and transit from dedicated auto sales tax receipts and a tax hike. That was money for road repair and to get more cars off the hellish roads we call the Interstates.
Of course, the failing grades of that very bridge during 2005 AND 2006 inspections were of no apparent matter as he vetoed that legislation. Yes, it did contain a tax increase that the public supported to the tune of more than 70 percent. When it gets to 70 percent, the feeling is mainstream, and the people want it.
After all, bridges don't fall, only political careers get dropped in the river and drowned. Right? Check http://www.attytood.com/2007/08/memo_bridge_failure_determined.html from Attytood. Yeah, I can hear it now. I'm just a bleeding heart liberal, beating on about drowned citizen. Don't even think of replying with an insult related to my views on our misplaced spending priorities.
We cannot hear the cries of those that drowned. Their voices cannot rise from the murk that is our beloved part of the Big Muddy. They cannot escape their watery graves to cry out that we are totally missing the fact that there are something in the neighborhood of 60,000 bridges that aren't safe and for which there will be no infrastructure funding for repairs.
We gotta run a war after all.
We gotta keep the money flowing where it can be seen, 'cuz so one actually cares about stuff you can't see, after all. Like bridge supports. And sewer pipes. And drinking water systems.
From: http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,,2140291,00.html
But hey, I'm not angry that there are multiple cars stacked on multiple cars at the bottom of the Mississippi in an area of the most treacherous currents in the Twin Cities BECAUSE A FREAKING BRIDGE COLLAPSED THAT WAS ALREADY LABELLED AS UNSAFE TWO FREAKING YEARS AGO!!!
AND ONE YEAR AGO!!!
Phew, that feels better.
BTW, go give a pint of blood, no matter where you are. It's summer and the stocks of the real elixer of life are running dangerously low everywhere. Contact your local hospital or Red Cross for further information.
Be well, safe and don't drive on unsafe bridges. Please.
And tell someone, tell everyone that will listen. Tell them this. We need to fix that which is about to break. It's going to take money. It needs to be done now. The Wars aren't the only things that can do us in. Losing lives, losing treasure because we sent the money to buy bombs and bombers has gotten us a broken bridge in Minnesota and too many broken hearts.
We can't bring back those that died. We cannot magically correct and heal the injuries inflicted yesterday. But, we can and we must, work to prevent another person drowning, another family torn asunder through injury or death that was preventable if we'd only repaired what needed fixing before it was too broken.
It's one bridge too broken in Minnesota. It's not to late for the rest of the 60,000 bridges that need repair. Yet.
In those frightening moments last evening, at least 9 people died (and counting) and many more nearly died. Huge numbers were injured. And the bridge that fell, the one resting at the bottom of the river, is a bridge that was unsafe. It was unsafe for TWO CONSECUTIVE YEARS OF INSPECTIONS.
The bridge that fell was a truss design, with the supports in the edges of the river, where current would be low, except during high water, flood conditions and storm surges. It was designed to last at least 50 years (refund anyone?) with normal traffic. Around here, traffic is equal to or worse than LA. There is no normal traffic, ever.
You can figure out if it was stress, poor maintenance, failure to address failing inspections, or just dumb bad luck.
Gov. Pawlenty (of Sen. McCain Campaign fame) is now saying that the bridge had a clean bill of health, all was well, and the collapse was never ever anticipated. That happens to be untrue, but What The H(eck).
You see, even as I write this, others are trying to rewrite history. To wit: Governor Pawlenty, who just this last legislative session vetoed a bill that would have provided $6 Billion for transportation and transit from dedicated auto sales tax receipts and a tax hike. That was money for road repair and to get more cars off the hellish roads we call the Interstates.
Of course, the failing grades of that very bridge during 2005 AND 2006 inspections were of no apparent matter as he vetoed that legislation. Yes, it did contain a tax increase that the public supported to the tune of more than 70 percent. When it gets to 70 percent, the feeling is mainstream, and the people want it.
After all, bridges don't fall, only political careers get dropped in the river and drowned. Right? Check http://www.attytood.com/2007/08/memo_bridge_failure_determined.html from Attytood. Yeah, I can hear it now. I'm just a bleeding heart liberal, beating on about drowned citizen. Don't even think of replying with an insult related to my views on our misplaced spending priorities.
We cannot hear the cries of those that drowned. Their voices cannot rise from the murk that is our beloved part of the Big Muddy. They cannot escape their watery graves to cry out that we are totally missing the fact that there are something in the neighborhood of 60,000 bridges that aren't safe and for which there will be no infrastructure funding for repairs.
We gotta run a war after all.
We gotta keep the money flowing where it can be seen, 'cuz so one actually cares about stuff you can't see, after all. Like bridge supports. And sewer pipes. And drinking water systems.
The state governor, Tim Pawlenty, said: "Obviously, this is a catastrophe of historic proportions for Minnesota."
The US president, George Bush, pledged help. "We in the federal government must respond, and respond robustly, to help the people there not only recover, but to make sure that lifeline of activity - that bridge - gets rebuilt as quickly as possible," he said in Washington.
Mr Pawlenty said the Minnesota department of transportation had inspected the 40-year-old bridge in 2005 and 2006, finding no structural problems. "There were some minor things that needed attention," he added.
From: http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,,2140291,00.html
But hey, I'm not angry that there are multiple cars stacked on multiple cars at the bottom of the Mississippi in an area of the most treacherous currents in the Twin Cities BECAUSE A FREAKING BRIDGE COLLAPSED THAT WAS ALREADY LABELLED AS UNSAFE TWO FREAKING YEARS AGO!!!
AND ONE YEAR AGO!!!
Phew, that feels better.
BTW, go give a pint of blood, no matter where you are. It's summer and the stocks of the real elixer of life are running dangerously low everywhere. Contact your local hospital or Red Cross for further information.
Be well, safe and don't drive on unsafe bridges. Please.
And tell someone, tell everyone that will listen. Tell them this. We need to fix that which is about to break. It's going to take money. It needs to be done now. The Wars aren't the only things that can do us in. Losing lives, losing treasure because we sent the money to buy bombs and bombers has gotten us a broken bridge in Minnesota and too many broken hearts.
We can't bring back those that died. We cannot magically correct and heal the injuries inflicted yesterday. But, we can and we must, work to prevent another person drowning, another family torn asunder through injury or death that was preventable if we'd only repaired what needed fixing before it was too broken.
It's one bridge too broken in Minnesota. It's not to late for the rest of the 60,000 bridges that need repair. Yet.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc
After the thing, therefore because of the thing.
The fly was crushed mid-flight by encountering a moving object. Therefore, the moving object killed the fly. Score one for flyswatters.
"Mr. X" hates us, and says so in a letter. An hour after receiving and reading the letter, "Us" has a car accident. Therefore, the car accident was caused by Mr. X. At the very least, Us dislikes "X" a lot. Did "X" cause the brakes to fail? Possibly. The other car to sideswipe the very car Us was riding in? Maybe. The red light to stop working in a power outage. Unlikely.
But life, real life, is more complicated.
For example, in one of the most complicated jobs in the nation, the thought that because President Nixon didn't assert Executive Privilege, and allowed John Dean (then White House Counsel) to testify, President Nixon was forced to resign or be impeached.
In truth, it wasn't Mr. Dean at all, as his testimony was only a vehicle by which the truth was going to come out. Truth has that habit. It does come out. Messy, nasty, cathartic truth. It gets loose and we are the better for it.
President Nixon couldn't have kept the truth in, any more than King Knut could have stopped the tide. Truth is a tide, and not one influenced by the phase of the moon. Executive privilege is not the tool. Executive honesty however is the tool that will save the Republic. Executive honesty is what is required to keep the Constitution.
Always it does come back to those fine Top Ten that the Right Wing spout off about daily. The "Thou shalt nots..." In order to fulfill the oath of office which is not to the People, but to the Constitution, the honor of the office requires an honest assessment of the situation. And it requires honesty to Congress, not contempt of it.
Post hoc ergo propter hoc. It is not the speaking in public by John Dean, his testimony to Congress, that brought down President Nixon. It was Nixon himself. It was arrogance in possession of power that caused Nixon's White House to implode. The Constitution won. The People, only through the words of Mr. Dean, and Mr. Butterfield, and Mr. Cox, and ...
All of them, together brought down that which President Nixon had done to the Constitution. Sure, there was lying, obfuscation, dirty tricks, the birth of the "Unitary Executive" (a concept anathema to the Founders), denials and more. But it was a bridge too far to cross, a scintilla that when push met shove, even President Nixon could not and would not cross the line of breaking the Constitution.
Would we had even one tenth of the honor of those days back again. Break the armed services, break treaties, violate the Bill of Rights, turn the nation inside out in pursuit of wars of choice, all are bad in their own right. But to place witnesses before the Judiciary Committee and require them to assert an oath that is the least important oath int he nation, after those same persons have taken the highest and most demanding oath a citizen can make, is more than hubris. It is insanity.
All government officers take an oath to "preserve, protect and defend the Constitution... from all enemies foreign and domestic". That oath requires that the Constitution, and the laws pertaining thereto, be obeyed with all the honest, loyalty, vigor, intellect, energy and love a citizen can muster. Oaths to a person pale in comparison. In fact, oaths to a person, or an office, are not contemplated by the Constitution as being superior to the oath to the Constitution.
Yet that is where we are. A mistaken belief that Executive Privilege, which can stall proceedings in Congress, (im)properly exercised will save the President where the Constitution demands disclosure and treatment of all branches of government as coequal, without a 'king' at the top of one of them, is what has gotten us here. Our Constitution cannot serve us, nor we it, in secrecy or in mendacity.
John Dean's testimony didn't bring down Nixon. If Attorney general Gonzales were to tell the truth, make his 'stories' agree with truth, and even the statements he made earlier, the Presidency will stand. And the Presidency will stand stronger for it.
President Nixon knew this, and so stopped short of obstruction of Congress, inherent contempt of Congress committed by his underlings, and contempt of the American People. President Nixon understood that contempt for the truth would break the nation, would forever break the Constitution.
The cause of Nixon's downfall was never the testimony, and never shall be for any President. The downfall that crying to occur today is simple and must go forward if the Constitution will stand as the highest law of the land. It is the acts for which the Administration desires darkness and secrecy that must be brought into the open, and measures taken to prevent such actions in future. It is the hoping against hope that honest discovery will never occur that will bring down President Bush. Either it shall happen through impeachment, resignation, or in the history books. It is too late to fix it.
King Knut could not stop the tide, nor did he intend to. He took the step to attempt stopping of the tides to show that even a King must be humble before forces that are larger than the Reg. For Knut, the tides were humbling. For us the tide of truth shall save us and our nation.
The time to fix the position of this President Bush on the good side of history was before the wiretaps, before the violations of the Fourth Amendment, before the NSA programme. That time is past, for the evil has been done. Now all that remains is for a shred of honor to emerge and for this President to realize that his oath, to the Constitution demands allowing the truth to come out. Save the Constitution and save the Nation.
Post hoc, ergo propter hoc. After the lies, the lawbreaking, the unravelling of the Constitutional fabric of the Republic, must come the truth. It is bigger than all of us. Arriving in time, it just might save us. Under our Constitution, the truth shall keep us free.
Now that is an outcome we can thrive with. After the lying, because of the lying, the Constitution is shredded, and all of us, this great Republic, with it.
After the truth, therefore because of the truth, the Republic shall stand.
After the truth, therefore because of the truth, the Constitution shall be restored.
The fly was crushed mid-flight by encountering a moving object. Therefore, the moving object killed the fly. Score one for flyswatters.
"Mr. X" hates us, and says so in a letter. An hour after receiving and reading the letter, "Us" has a car accident. Therefore, the car accident was caused by Mr. X. At the very least, Us dislikes "X" a lot. Did "X" cause the brakes to fail? Possibly. The other car to sideswipe the very car Us was riding in? Maybe. The red light to stop working in a power outage. Unlikely.
But life, real life, is more complicated.
For example, in one of the most complicated jobs in the nation, the thought that because President Nixon didn't assert Executive Privilege, and allowed John Dean (then White House Counsel) to testify, President Nixon was forced to resign or be impeached.
In truth, it wasn't Mr. Dean at all, as his testimony was only a vehicle by which the truth was going to come out. Truth has that habit. It does come out. Messy, nasty, cathartic truth. It gets loose and we are the better for it.
President Nixon couldn't have kept the truth in, any more than King Knut could have stopped the tide. Truth is a tide, and not one influenced by the phase of the moon. Executive privilege is not the tool. Executive honesty however is the tool that will save the Republic. Executive honesty is what is required to keep the Constitution.
Always it does come back to those fine Top Ten that the Right Wing spout off about daily. The "Thou shalt nots..." In order to fulfill the oath of office which is not to the People, but to the Constitution, the honor of the office requires an honest assessment of the situation. And it requires honesty to Congress, not contempt of it.
Post hoc ergo propter hoc. It is not the speaking in public by John Dean, his testimony to Congress, that brought down President Nixon. It was Nixon himself. It was arrogance in possession of power that caused Nixon's White House to implode. The Constitution won. The People, only through the words of Mr. Dean, and Mr. Butterfield, and Mr. Cox, and ...
All of them, together brought down that which President Nixon had done to the Constitution. Sure, there was lying, obfuscation, dirty tricks, the birth of the "Unitary Executive" (a concept anathema to the Founders), denials and more. But it was a bridge too far to cross, a scintilla that when push met shove, even President Nixon could not and would not cross the line of breaking the Constitution.
Would we had even one tenth of the honor of those days back again. Break the armed services, break treaties, violate the Bill of Rights, turn the nation inside out in pursuit of wars of choice, all are bad in their own right. But to place witnesses before the Judiciary Committee and require them to assert an oath that is the least important oath int he nation, after those same persons have taken the highest and most demanding oath a citizen can make, is more than hubris. It is insanity.
All government officers take an oath to "preserve, protect and defend the Constitution... from all enemies foreign and domestic". That oath requires that the Constitution, and the laws pertaining thereto, be obeyed with all the honest, loyalty, vigor, intellect, energy and love a citizen can muster. Oaths to a person pale in comparison. In fact, oaths to a person, or an office, are not contemplated by the Constitution as being superior to the oath to the Constitution.
Yet that is where we are. A mistaken belief that Executive Privilege, which can stall proceedings in Congress, (im)properly exercised will save the President where the Constitution demands disclosure and treatment of all branches of government as coequal, without a 'king' at the top of one of them, is what has gotten us here. Our Constitution cannot serve us, nor we it, in secrecy or in mendacity.
John Dean's testimony didn't bring down Nixon. If Attorney general Gonzales were to tell the truth, make his 'stories' agree with truth, and even the statements he made earlier, the Presidency will stand. And the Presidency will stand stronger for it.
President Nixon knew this, and so stopped short of obstruction of Congress, inherent contempt of Congress committed by his underlings, and contempt of the American People. President Nixon understood that contempt for the truth would break the nation, would forever break the Constitution.
The cause of Nixon's downfall was never the testimony, and never shall be for any President. The downfall that crying to occur today is simple and must go forward if the Constitution will stand as the highest law of the land. It is the acts for which the Administration desires darkness and secrecy that must be brought into the open, and measures taken to prevent such actions in future. It is the hoping against hope that honest discovery will never occur that will bring down President Bush. Either it shall happen through impeachment, resignation, or in the history books. It is too late to fix it.
King Knut could not stop the tide, nor did he intend to. He took the step to attempt stopping of the tides to show that even a King must be humble before forces that are larger than the Reg. For Knut, the tides were humbling. For us the tide of truth shall save us and our nation.
The time to fix the position of this President Bush on the good side of history was before the wiretaps, before the violations of the Fourth Amendment, before the NSA programme. That time is past, for the evil has been done. Now all that remains is for a shred of honor to emerge and for this President to realize that his oath, to the Constitution demands allowing the truth to come out. Save the Constitution and save the Nation.
Post hoc, ergo propter hoc. After the lies, the lawbreaking, the unravelling of the Constitutional fabric of the Republic, must come the truth. It is bigger than all of us. Arriving in time, it just might save us. Under our Constitution, the truth shall keep us free.
Now that is an outcome we can thrive with. After the lying, because of the lying, the Constitution is shredded, and all of us, this great Republic, with it.
After the truth, therefore because of the truth, the Republic shall stand.
After the truth, therefore because of the truth, the Constitution shall be restored.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
The Muse Hears From a Truly Honorable Man
Yesterday, I spoke with a remarkable human being. No posing, no false fronts, none of that "say one thing, do another", that is so prevalent in our 21st Century society. I spoke with a man who has again taught me the meaning of honor in action.
He'd taught me that family is very important, but is not always biological, long ago. I'd long ago learned lessons from him on the meaning of duty, faithfulness, strength and courage. He is blessed with great capacity for discretion and huge intellect. He chooses his battles carefully and treats his friends as family should treat their own. I am privileged to call him my friend. I am honored he calls me his.
Yesterday, he taught me again the meaning of honor. Of living true to yourself. Of being absolutely honest to God, honest to God. Most importantly, his life is a lesson in living so that all that you meet, and call your friend, you treat as sisters and brothers should treat each other in a perfect world. He never takes the easy way when the way that is right is available, if difficult. No excuses, no aplogies. Just his personal yardstick of justice that is measured first by doing nothing that would harm others, innocents, when seeking justice. If his loss is great using that measure, so be it.
He will not cause harm to innocents when he can avoid it, no matter the financial cost or the discomfort it causes him personally. There is no price too great to avoid harming innocent people. None. Personal gain is not ever the measure of his actions, and he is the richer for it.
The details aren't important although our stories though have a common thread.
His family, in order to take money from him, lied about my friend. They lied boldly. Publicly. Their lying was calculated and huge. Not the little lie about who was where at a particular point in time.
Their lies, like those of my own family members, were of the type that deny the particular direction from which the sun rises. I learned this from my friend as I have also recently been on the receiving end of some ugly, blatantly false, rumours started by my own family. None of the details matter.
What counts is this. This is what he said. "The greatest harm was not to me, but to my children." Some would say the great financial loss was a huge harm to him. They would be wrong in is his estimation. Some would say retaliation would be justified. He does not, as collateral damage would also increase the harm done by the initial misdeeds.
And now, after thinking on it, I must agree with him. There were those in his family who didn't participate, and they would be harmed if he retaliated. His children would be harmed more if he retaliated also. Not financially, but in ways that tear the fabric of their view of family in ways that could not be mended for generations.
And so, no retaliation in the obvious ways, using courts, and laws and judges. No retaliatory rumours floating around either. Nor shall I engage in such rumours. We have the sort of friendship where secrets are told, and secrets kept, forever.
Now, that's a real hero. Not once as I was hearing his tale of familial scheming and dirty deeds that make Hamlet's clan look like pikers, did he mention the great pain his family had caused to him nor did he sound as if he were hanging onto that pain as if it were a life raft. He simply let it go. And he did what is just. And right. He did nothing that would further harm his own children or those that are nearest to him.
After all, those that know him best, know that no matter what is said about this giant of a man, know that whatever rumours flowed from his family's misdeeds, must be false. And we demand no proof. That is the legacy of honor.
He acted in the tradition of Saladin, whose own life provided the framework for the code of chivalry. Think Richard the Lionheart. Think of the best code of honor, not in aspirational form (evident in those same Crusades), but in real life form, made more vivid, and walking tall among us. That is my friend.
He is honorable not for merely religious reasons, but is honorable for his unbreakable personal code of honor. He is honorable because he believes justice is immutable, and not always for us mere humans to dole out in anger, hurt, frustration or revenge.
When your own flesh and blood conspire to harm one of their own, there is immediate pain and the sort of injury that can cripple and may never truly heal. But such injuries do not cripple this man, nor do they cause him to miss a step. He's seen it all. He understands that motives such as greed, envy, lack of moral compass and plain old nastiness, can make people do some pretty horrendous things. His family did pretty much the worst they could do to him. And he has risen above it all.
He has done, and will do, nothing to punish them although punishment would be an easy course and richly deserved. He could let a court sort it out. He let them get away with informing the world life was death, greed was good, false witness was no problem. That is for God to sort out.
He never thought of doing evil to those that sought evil against him. Honis soit qui mal y pense. Shamed be he who thinks evil. The watchwords of the British Knights of the Order of the Garter. There is nothing in that admonition that requires armies or courts to impose any richly deserved punishment. He could have done much. He could have inflicted much pain on those that did him wrong. He'd be justified, but perhaps not as honorable in so doing.
His choice, let them live with guilt, their inner shame, their greed, lust and envy, took the kind of discipline that is the stuff of the truly heroic. And yes, this man has demonstrated repeatedly that he is a flesh and blood hero, in the obvious venues of military service, and fulfilling duty to his own family, humanity, his community and his country.
Perhaps he doesn't want to be dragged through the muck to right a wrong. Deeds as were done to him would involve much muck dragging to set things right. There would also be dishonor brought to his family name, which could be motive enough to do nothing. His choice though is not from any motivation involving cowardice when facing a fight. He doesn't want to merely collect a debt. He wants to let those doing evil to stew in it. Forever.
His decision is based on this. The punishment for breaking several of the Top Ten Suggestions as was done to him allows him to honor his parents by not seeking worldly punishment for the evil done to him. And, by walking away from this fight, he also kept his own honor. And preserved the honor of those in his family that have done nothing to him.
His own honor, much greater than that of his family's, allows this. He remains a man of highest principle. He will not harm those that did him no wrong, no matter what the cost to him, for innocents must never suffer to right a wrong. Ever. And innocent members of his family would suffer greatly if he sought the usual course of punishment for the misdeeds of a few. He's also counting on whatever shred of conscience in those that harmed him gnaw at those that did him wrong. That is a punishment on an eternal scale.
It is the path of honor. No matter what society might impose upon wrongdoers, the evil done to him will not be repeated against others in society, and so there is no need to punish anyone to prevent future harm. No price imposed by a court of law could ever truly right what was wrong, nor heal what has now irrevocably been broken.
And this is what I learned yesterday from a man who knows the real meaning of valor, honor and justice. The harm done to him was great. But to inflict harm on the innocent in order to right what was done to him, is not right, fitting or his duty. His duty is to choose the path where innocents are not harmed.
Whatever one can say about my friend, they must say this. He possesses honor others only dream of. He is a truly honorable man. I am honored he calls me friend.
He'd taught me that family is very important, but is not always biological, long ago. I'd long ago learned lessons from him on the meaning of duty, faithfulness, strength and courage. He is blessed with great capacity for discretion and huge intellect. He chooses his battles carefully and treats his friends as family should treat their own. I am privileged to call him my friend. I am honored he calls me his.
Yesterday, he taught me again the meaning of honor. Of living true to yourself. Of being absolutely honest to God, honest to God. Most importantly, his life is a lesson in living so that all that you meet, and call your friend, you treat as sisters and brothers should treat each other in a perfect world. He never takes the easy way when the way that is right is available, if difficult. No excuses, no aplogies. Just his personal yardstick of justice that is measured first by doing nothing that would harm others, innocents, when seeking justice. If his loss is great using that measure, so be it.
He will not cause harm to innocents when he can avoid it, no matter the financial cost or the discomfort it causes him personally. There is no price too great to avoid harming innocent people. None. Personal gain is not ever the measure of his actions, and he is the richer for it.
The details aren't important although our stories though have a common thread.
His family, in order to take money from him, lied about my friend. They lied boldly. Publicly. Their lying was calculated and huge. Not the little lie about who was where at a particular point in time.
Their lies, like those of my own family members, were of the type that deny the particular direction from which the sun rises. I learned this from my friend as I have also recently been on the receiving end of some ugly, blatantly false, rumours started by my own family. None of the details matter.
What counts is this. This is what he said. "The greatest harm was not to me, but to my children." Some would say the great financial loss was a huge harm to him. They would be wrong in is his estimation. Some would say retaliation would be justified. He does not, as collateral damage would also increase the harm done by the initial misdeeds.
And now, after thinking on it, I must agree with him. There were those in his family who didn't participate, and they would be harmed if he retaliated. His children would be harmed more if he retaliated also. Not financially, but in ways that tear the fabric of their view of family in ways that could not be mended for generations.
And so, no retaliation in the obvious ways, using courts, and laws and judges. No retaliatory rumours floating around either. Nor shall I engage in such rumours. We have the sort of friendship where secrets are told, and secrets kept, forever.
Now, that's a real hero. Not once as I was hearing his tale of familial scheming and dirty deeds that make Hamlet's clan look like pikers, did he mention the great pain his family had caused to him nor did he sound as if he were hanging onto that pain as if it were a life raft. He simply let it go. And he did what is just. And right. He did nothing that would further harm his own children or those that are nearest to him.
After all, those that know him best, know that no matter what is said about this giant of a man, know that whatever rumours flowed from his family's misdeeds, must be false. And we demand no proof. That is the legacy of honor.
He acted in the tradition of Saladin, whose own life provided the framework for the code of chivalry. Think Richard the Lionheart. Think of the best code of honor, not in aspirational form (evident in those same Crusades), but in real life form, made more vivid, and walking tall among us. That is my friend.
He is honorable not for merely religious reasons, but is honorable for his unbreakable personal code of honor. He is honorable because he believes justice is immutable, and not always for us mere humans to dole out in anger, hurt, frustration or revenge.
When your own flesh and blood conspire to harm one of their own, there is immediate pain and the sort of injury that can cripple and may never truly heal. But such injuries do not cripple this man, nor do they cause him to miss a step. He's seen it all. He understands that motives such as greed, envy, lack of moral compass and plain old nastiness, can make people do some pretty horrendous things. His family did pretty much the worst they could do to him. And he has risen above it all.
He has done, and will do, nothing to punish them although punishment would be an easy course and richly deserved. He could let a court sort it out. He let them get away with informing the world life was death, greed was good, false witness was no problem. That is for God to sort out.
He never thought of doing evil to those that sought evil against him. Honis soit qui mal y pense. Shamed be he who thinks evil. The watchwords of the British Knights of the Order of the Garter. There is nothing in that admonition that requires armies or courts to impose any richly deserved punishment. He could have done much. He could have inflicted much pain on those that did him wrong. He'd be justified, but perhaps not as honorable in so doing.
His choice, let them live with guilt, their inner shame, their greed, lust and envy, took the kind of discipline that is the stuff of the truly heroic. And yes, this man has demonstrated repeatedly that he is a flesh and blood hero, in the obvious venues of military service, and fulfilling duty to his own family, humanity, his community and his country.
Perhaps he doesn't want to be dragged through the muck to right a wrong. Deeds as were done to him would involve much muck dragging to set things right. There would also be dishonor brought to his family name, which could be motive enough to do nothing. His choice though is not from any motivation involving cowardice when facing a fight. He doesn't want to merely collect a debt. He wants to let those doing evil to stew in it. Forever.
His decision is based on this. The punishment for breaking several of the Top Ten Suggestions as was done to him allows him to honor his parents by not seeking worldly punishment for the evil done to him. And, by walking away from this fight, he also kept his own honor. And preserved the honor of those in his family that have done nothing to him.
His own honor, much greater than that of his family's, allows this. He remains a man of highest principle. He will not harm those that did him no wrong, no matter what the cost to him, for innocents must never suffer to right a wrong. Ever. And innocent members of his family would suffer greatly if he sought the usual course of punishment for the misdeeds of a few. He's also counting on whatever shred of conscience in those that harmed him gnaw at those that did him wrong. That is a punishment on an eternal scale.
It is the path of honor. No matter what society might impose upon wrongdoers, the evil done to him will not be repeated against others in society, and so there is no need to punish anyone to prevent future harm. No price imposed by a court of law could ever truly right what was wrong, nor heal what has now irrevocably been broken.
And this is what I learned yesterday from a man who knows the real meaning of valor, honor and justice. The harm done to him was great. But to inflict harm on the innocent in order to right what was done to him, is not right, fitting or his duty. His duty is to choose the path where innocents are not harmed.
Whatever one can say about my friend, they must say this. He possesses honor others only dream of. He is a truly honorable man. I am honored he calls me friend.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Apologies Due
Sorry about this, but stuff as they say happens. And stuff is no excuse.
For reasons that are obvious to anyone with the sense God gave a grapefruit, I'm not going public with the 'stuff'. Suffice it to say the stuff has overwhelmed the reality I call life. As such, I've been buried. Under it. Smashed down, trodden over and frankly ready to hit the HELP button. I just can't find it.
Also, for some reason, comments that should have posted didn't. Posts that were written, edited, revised, spell checked, and had that nifty 'publish' button pushed, weren't.
Is it me, or is it another case of I hate (insert name of technological bugaboo here)?
Who knows. Anyway, when not dealing with the shoveling, etc., I'll be online with the lovely Blogger people. And my ISP (still more stuff there) and with the other pains in the collective, well, you know...
And searching for that Muse of Techno-speak. And the HELP button.
Oh, and if anyone is concerned, the cat is better but not yet well. He's losing ground in the house training department (more stuff) but is in fact showing evidence of great improvement. And poor guy, he's actually not failing to find the box. His body just doesn't give him enough time to get there.
Alas, back to the vet. Again. And if I don't get some sleep, I'll be at the vet myself. For myself. At least there, the fellow patients are all warm, furry (for the most part) and a joy to visit with as we all wait for that appointment with our caregiver. Perhaps the Boy Genius and I can get a group rate?
For reasons that are obvious to anyone with the sense God gave a grapefruit, I'm not going public with the 'stuff'. Suffice it to say the stuff has overwhelmed the reality I call life. As such, I've been buried. Under it. Smashed down, trodden over and frankly ready to hit the HELP button. I just can't find it.
Also, for some reason, comments that should have posted didn't. Posts that were written, edited, revised, spell checked, and had that nifty 'publish' button pushed, weren't.
Is it me, or is it another case of I hate (insert name of technological bugaboo here)?
Who knows. Anyway, when not dealing with the shoveling, etc., I'll be online with the lovely Blogger people. And my ISP (still more stuff there) and with the other pains in the collective, well, you know...
And searching for that Muse of Techno-speak. And the HELP button.
Oh, and if anyone is concerned, the cat is better but not yet well. He's losing ground in the house training department (more stuff) but is in fact showing evidence of great improvement. And poor guy, he's actually not failing to find the box. His body just doesn't give him enough time to get there.
Alas, back to the vet. Again. And if I don't get some sleep, I'll be at the vet myself. For myself. At least there, the fellow patients are all warm, furry (for the most part) and a joy to visit with as we all wait for that appointment with our caregiver. Perhaps the Boy Genius and I can get a group rate?
Monday, July 9, 2007
Is the Muse running on empty?
We're running out of gas, oil and stretching the limits of the Earth to support us. You may think of the Muse 'running on empty' being a matter of few ideas popping to the front of the queue. In truth, we are all running on empty, and a poverty of ideas and new technologies to allow us to go forward with less harm to our home, this wonderful planet, is what is bringing us to the brink.
Sure we have some sort of Dueling Muses now. Those that scoff "Global Warming" is a hoax, and those that say the science is solid. But in truth, the warming matter is only part of the problem.
We are growing exponentially, we humans. And if we want to avoid watching up to 80 percent of the current population dying off in the near future, we should pay ever greater heed to the need for a cleaner Earth with fewer impacts from population. Technology that lessens our reliance on carbon based fuels, including coal and oil is part of it. The other part is the opportunities these new technologies present.
New technologies mean new profit sources, and will result in less cost of clean-up of pollution, and greater good for all peoples. Nature, when overstressed, jettisons the organisms that cannot be supported through disease and death. Nature also doesn't seem to care if you are a Republican or a Democrat. Stress the ecosystem too much, and off the planet you shall go. That is, the collective 'you'.
Humans in ever growing numbers are having an ever greater impact on the Earth. Either we lessen that impact or the Earth shall no longer support our numbers.
Ask this question: If we reduce our pollution, how much more clean water, air and land will be available to support life? You may be surprised. It is not the "ecoradicals" against the "present greater good". It is profligacy leading to death caused by our pollution, versus life based on helping Ecosystem Earth to continue support for human life.
If we all agree that pollution is bad, then there should be no question that we ought to seek every opportunity to reduce pollution, whether or not the reduction is related to Global Warming. Carbon waste, heat, undrinkable water, resource depletion, and all the other stressors on the Earth can be remedied through conservation and finding better ways to avoid use of carbon based fuels.
We all agree that improved and new technology, will be necessary for the sustainability of industrialized societies, currently reliant upon the current relative abundance of a limited resource. But those carbon based fuels pollute, and we ought to plan for and act quickly to prevent crisis caused by scarcity of, or pollution from carbon based fuels from being our impetus to act.
Crisis is never a good state from which to make wise choices.
Much of our energy use can be obtained from renewable, and non-fuel based energy currently available to us.
The Sun can provide, on a given day, energy, to remove our need for much of the oil/gas/or carbon based fuels we use for heating, cooking, cooling, and much of the energy we waste.
Wind can provide much energy that we currently use carbon based fuels for today.
If we simply improved the technology and availability of those "free" energy sources, we would cut our impact upon the world, and increase the ability of human life to survive in increasing numbers on a somewhat small planet.
We humans forget we are biological creatures, animals with good, even designer clothes. We must very soon, lessen our impact upon the planet. Or, we shall find ourselves dying off as the ecosystem, our Mother Earth, can no longer support our profligate lifestyle. That result is the way to massive human deaths.
When the ecosystem, Earth, can't support a certain life form, that life form goes extinct.
For a culture of life, encouraging ways that make the Earth less able to support humans, is neither economically desirable nor is it wise.
Ignoring the economic opportunities in creating and implementing new technologies is also ignoring a massive opportunity that will, whether it affects Global Warming or not, will result in much new wealth in a world needing more fuel, food and energy to support our every growing numbers.
That is, we must impact the planet less if we value human life at all. Perhaps we don't need to fill that tank at all. Perhaps we need to cooperate with our Mother, and the Muse will no longer be gasping for air, starving, or choking on dirty water. To say nothing of a Muse no longer baking past well done in triple digit temperatures.
Sure we have some sort of Dueling Muses now. Those that scoff "Global Warming" is a hoax, and those that say the science is solid. But in truth, the warming matter is only part of the problem.
We are growing exponentially, we humans. And if we want to avoid watching up to 80 percent of the current population dying off in the near future, we should pay ever greater heed to the need for a cleaner Earth with fewer impacts from population. Technology that lessens our reliance on carbon based fuels, including coal and oil is part of it. The other part is the opportunities these new technologies present.
New technologies mean new profit sources, and will result in less cost of clean-up of pollution, and greater good for all peoples. Nature, when overstressed, jettisons the organisms that cannot be supported through disease and death. Nature also doesn't seem to care if you are a Republican or a Democrat. Stress the ecosystem too much, and off the planet you shall go. That is, the collective 'you'.
Humans in ever growing numbers are having an ever greater impact on the Earth. Either we lessen that impact or the Earth shall no longer support our numbers.
Ask this question: If we reduce our pollution, how much more clean water, air and land will be available to support life? You may be surprised. It is not the "ecoradicals" against the "present greater good". It is profligacy leading to death caused by our pollution, versus life based on helping Ecosystem Earth to continue support for human life.
If we all agree that pollution is bad, then there should be no question that we ought to seek every opportunity to reduce pollution, whether or not the reduction is related to Global Warming. Carbon waste, heat, undrinkable water, resource depletion, and all the other stressors on the Earth can be remedied through conservation and finding better ways to avoid use of carbon based fuels.
We all agree that improved and new technology, will be necessary for the sustainability of industrialized societies, currently reliant upon the current relative abundance of a limited resource. But those carbon based fuels pollute, and we ought to plan for and act quickly to prevent crisis caused by scarcity of, or pollution from carbon based fuels from being our impetus to act.
Crisis is never a good state from which to make wise choices.
Much of our energy use can be obtained from renewable, and non-fuel based energy currently available to us.
The Sun can provide, on a given day, energy, to remove our need for much of the oil/gas/or carbon based fuels we use for heating, cooking, cooling, and much of the energy we waste.
Wind can provide much energy that we currently use carbon based fuels for today.
If we simply improved the technology and availability of those "free" energy sources, we would cut our impact upon the world, and increase the ability of human life to survive in increasing numbers on a somewhat small planet.
We humans forget we are biological creatures, animals with good, even designer clothes. We must very soon, lessen our impact upon the planet. Or, we shall find ourselves dying off as the ecosystem, our Mother Earth, can no longer support our profligate lifestyle. That result is the way to massive human deaths.
When the ecosystem, Earth, can't support a certain life form, that life form goes extinct.
For a culture of life, encouraging ways that make the Earth less able to support humans, is neither economically desirable nor is it wise.
Ignoring the economic opportunities in creating and implementing new technologies is also ignoring a massive opportunity that will, whether it affects Global Warming or not, will result in much new wealth in a world needing more fuel, food and energy to support our every growing numbers.
That is, we must impact the planet less if we value human life at all. Perhaps we don't need to fill that tank at all. Perhaps we need to cooperate with our Mother, and the Muse will no longer be gasping for air, starving, or choking on dirty water. To say nothing of a Muse no longer baking past well done in triple digit temperatures.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Did Anyone Notice?
We're finally getting the dribs and drabs that will gradually enlighten us, if we can stand the water torture of the MSM drip-drip-drip long enough.
One fact that hit me in the face like a cod on the way to the chippie is this: The alleged "bombers" in the UK were doctors.
Perhaps not great bombers, especially considering their devices were, in reality, more hope than heat generating mixtures, without the proper means to achieve the Thriller Flick Big Explosion effect.
They were doctors, not explosives experts.
They were people dedicated to the healing of others. And if, if they were in fact intent upon being bombers and taking a bunch of others along with them in their fiery demise, they must have reached a point where they had nothing else to do. They had reached the end of their rope and there was no knot in the end.
They, collectively or individually could see no way to get past the despair that makes suicide bombers. After all, they weren't hooligans seeking a moment of glory, drugged up madmen, or products of ghettoized despair.
They were doctors. They were, and remain at the end of the day, lousy terrorists. Ineffective. For all that learning, they didn't get it right. Except to make a statement. I heard.
They were doctors.
When the doctors start blowing themselves to Kingdom Come, there is waaaaaaay too much despair somewhere for life, wherever that despair lives, to go on.
They were doctors.
They'd worked all their lives to learn, treat, help, counsel, and make well that which is broken by disease or injury.
Most especially I noted the neurosurgeon/neurologist labels. When healers that treat the worst diseases and injuries of all, those that steal away the mind (and souls) of the ill, start to think immolation is the way out, there is more than trouble in River City. There's some serious healing needing to be done.
For the doctors.
For their patients.
For the place where there is no place to go, no hope of healing, nothing beyond despair.
It is despair for the most part that drives suicide bombers into crowds. Where there is nothing left to lose, there is nothing more to be done than making a spectacular statement.
"Look at this. Look at what I have done, what I am doing. There is nowhere else that I can go. I can only explode myself and hope the message of these flames are seared into the hearts of all that see this. And then, after the flames die out, those seared hearts must come together and do what no doctors, governments, armies or forces of society have yet done. There must be healing in the place where I can do no more. There must be healing in the place where I cannot any longer heal. I leave it to you. In flames and explosions and suffering, burns, injury and death."
Is that what the message from the doctors was to be?
We do not know.
But that is what I noticed. That is what my Muse has be screaming in my ear for days now.
Heal the Hell on earth that brought those flames to the UK, and an airport. Heal the hell that brought them to the place of a message writ large in fire.
That is what the doctors said to me.
I do not condone their actions, nor do I condone the actions of those that brought this Hell to those that concluded they had no other way out.
They were doctors.
It is on us to heal their pain. It is on us to heal that pain that made their message necessary and so compelling they would sacrifice their lives, and their life's work to make the message heard.
They were doctors.
And we must be doctors.
Now.
Let the healing begin. In Iraq. In the Middle East. In us. In the world.
And in our hearts.
They were doctors. Let the healing begin.
One fact that hit me in the face like a cod on the way to the chippie is this: The alleged "bombers" in the UK were doctors.
Perhaps not great bombers, especially considering their devices were, in reality, more hope than heat generating mixtures, without the proper means to achieve the Thriller Flick Big Explosion effect.
They were doctors, not explosives experts.
They were people dedicated to the healing of others. And if, if they were in fact intent upon being bombers and taking a bunch of others along with them in their fiery demise, they must have reached a point where they had nothing else to do. They had reached the end of their rope and there was no knot in the end.
They, collectively or individually could see no way to get past the despair that makes suicide bombers. After all, they weren't hooligans seeking a moment of glory, drugged up madmen, or products of ghettoized despair.
They were doctors. They were, and remain at the end of the day, lousy terrorists. Ineffective. For all that learning, they didn't get it right. Except to make a statement. I heard.
They were doctors.
When the doctors start blowing themselves to Kingdom Come, there is waaaaaaay too much despair somewhere for life, wherever that despair lives, to go on.
They were doctors.
They'd worked all their lives to learn, treat, help, counsel, and make well that which is broken by disease or injury.
Most especially I noted the neurosurgeon/neurologist labels. When healers that treat the worst diseases and injuries of all, those that steal away the mind (and souls) of the ill, start to think immolation is the way out, there is more than trouble in River City. There's some serious healing needing to be done.
For the doctors.
For their patients.
For the place where there is no place to go, no hope of healing, nothing beyond despair.
It is despair for the most part that drives suicide bombers into crowds. Where there is nothing left to lose, there is nothing more to be done than making a spectacular statement.
"Look at this. Look at what I have done, what I am doing. There is nowhere else that I can go. I can only explode myself and hope the message of these flames are seared into the hearts of all that see this. And then, after the flames die out, those seared hearts must come together and do what no doctors, governments, armies or forces of society have yet done. There must be healing in the place where I can do no more. There must be healing in the place where I cannot any longer heal. I leave it to you. In flames and explosions and suffering, burns, injury and death."
Is that what the message from the doctors was to be?
We do not know.
But that is what I noticed. That is what my Muse has be screaming in my ear for days now.
Heal the Hell on earth that brought those flames to the UK, and an airport. Heal the hell that brought them to the place of a message writ large in fire.
That is what the doctors said to me.
I do not condone their actions, nor do I condone the actions of those that brought this Hell to those that concluded they had no other way out.
They were doctors.
It is on us to heal their pain. It is on us to heal that pain that made their message necessary and so compelling they would sacrifice their lives, and their life's work to make the message heard.
They were doctors.
And we must be doctors.
Now.
Let the healing begin. In Iraq. In the Middle East. In us. In the world.
And in our hearts.
They were doctors. Let the healing begin.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
What if???
What if...
Two little words.
Questions that can rock your world or change who you become.
What if...
What if you lived in a nation where, after being placed in government or police custody, you were denied access to an attorney? Legally. Or, you could be held without charge for more than a week? A month? A year?
What if you lived in a nation where you had no expectation of privacy in your letters? What if those letters could be opened and read whether or not you were a suspect in a criminal action?
What if those letters could be opened and read without a warrant having been issued in the first instance, so there was no oversight of the police to determine if their actions in searching were lawful or not?
What if you lived in a nation where you could disappear on the word of the police? The military?
What if you lived in a nation where the military were legally permitted to act as the police or other civil law enforcement?
What if you lived in a society where you could not challenge your custody in jail? For a week? For a month? For a year?
What if you lived in a nation where you were not allowed to submit a petition to the government to correct a wrong, ranging from garbage pickup, to failing schools, to enforcement of health laws?
What if you lived in a nation where a single governmental officer could suspend laws and institute martial law on their own order, without review, consent of any other governmental officers or other governmental agency?
What if you lived in a nation where your every action was tracked by government, from the spending you do to the company you keep?
What if you lived in a society where every word you spoke, wrote or heard were regulated? Or even subject to monitoring?
What if you lived in a nation where you were certain that law enforcment was applied with favor to some? Where law enforcment was not applied evenly, regardless of your status in the community? Where civil and criminal penalties were determined by who you are rather than what you did, or were contemplating doing?
What if you lived in a nation where every book and magazine you read were monitored by government?
What if you lived in a nation where employment opportunities were limited according to your social associations, beliefs, opinions or economic status, and not on your ability?
I'm just asking.
Really.
Seriously.
We've just celebrated the Fourth of July, and these questions have been on my mind. They have been so much on my mind.
Would your answers matter to your Muse? To someone's Muse?
Does it matter that you ask?
Can your Muse help you find the answers?
Ask.
Think.
Listen.
Write it down.
And keep asking. And asking. And asking, eyes wide open. Ask with mind open, and heart open. When you ask, be willing to correct what needs correcting, so that you aren't uncomfortable in reality or in considering the questions.
Two little words.
Questions that can rock your world or change who you become.
What if...
What if you lived in a nation where, after being placed in government or police custody, you were denied access to an attorney? Legally. Or, you could be held without charge for more than a week? A month? A year?
What if you lived in a nation where you had no expectation of privacy in your letters? What if those letters could be opened and read whether or not you were a suspect in a criminal action?
What if those letters could be opened and read without a warrant having been issued in the first instance, so there was no oversight of the police to determine if their actions in searching were lawful or not?
What if you lived in a nation where you could disappear on the word of the police? The military?
What if you lived in a nation where the military were legally permitted to act as the police or other civil law enforcement?
What if you lived in a society where you could not challenge your custody in jail? For a week? For a month? For a year?
What if you lived in a nation where you were not allowed to submit a petition to the government to correct a wrong, ranging from garbage pickup, to failing schools, to enforcement of health laws?
What if you lived in a nation where a single governmental officer could suspend laws and institute martial law on their own order, without review, consent of any other governmental officers or other governmental agency?
What if you lived in a nation where your every action was tracked by government, from the spending you do to the company you keep?
What if you lived in a society where every word you spoke, wrote or heard were regulated? Or even subject to monitoring?
What if you lived in a nation where you were certain that law enforcment was applied with favor to some? Where law enforcment was not applied evenly, regardless of your status in the community? Where civil and criminal penalties were determined by who you are rather than what you did, or were contemplating doing?
What if you lived in a nation where every book and magazine you read were monitored by government?
What if you lived in a nation where employment opportunities were limited according to your social associations, beliefs, opinions or economic status, and not on your ability?
I'm just asking.
Really.
Seriously.
We've just celebrated the Fourth of July, and these questions have been on my mind. They have been so much on my mind.
Would your answers matter to your Muse? To someone's Muse?
Does it matter that you ask?
Can your Muse help you find the answers?
Ask.
Think.
Listen.
Write it down.
And keep asking. And asking. And asking, eyes wide open. Ask with mind open, and heart open. When you ask, be willing to correct what needs correcting, so that you aren't uncomfortable in reality or in considering the questions.
Monday, July 2, 2007
It's Political Calculus, Baby
Not the math kind. This is the July Fourth of Political Calculus writ large, and writ more difficult to explain. Math isn't supposed to be affected by the timing of revelations.
Political math is all about timing. Or at least it is far too often in our calculating society -- the one that is headed by the "inside" the Beltway folks.
Then there are the rest of us.
We The People...
In order to live in a nation governed by the People, establish a society based upon the equal protection of the law, and the equal obligations of all persons under that law, form a more perfect Union, and establish, (for the first time in history), the right of people to pursue happiness, recognized one important principle.
All calculations in the maths that result in whatever is following the equal sign represents true equality did an amazing thing. We declared on July 2, 1776, (hard copy not fully inked until July 4, 1776) our Independence from a system of laws based upon the status of a person, and simply declared all people were equal.
We knew then, and we all know now, though some might not want to admit it, that Equality means that if you bend or break a law, you have to pay a debt to society. If the debt is neither identified, recognized nor paid, there is a group of people above the law. And "above the law" just ain't "equal" under the law.
Except when some are more equal than others.
Like now.
Like this July 4. Some are more equal than others.
Some, after misleading the nation, and lying to the enforcers of the nation's laws, are now able to walk free, unencumbered by the reality of a debt to be paid by serving time behind bars.
Others? Not so much.
Got clout?
Plug it into the Political Calculus-inator, and out comes a commutation.
Not exactly equality under the law.
Were we, members of the still far too silent majority, found guilty of lying to an extent that an entire criminal prosecution of the underlying crime of 'outing' a federal agent doesn't happen, we'd pay. If that outed agent was concerned with the detection of, and elimination of Weapons of Freaking Mass Destruction, we would be, ourselves, rotting in prison, effectively destroyed.
If our crime was committed in wartime, the legal penalty for outing a secret agent would be rightly identified as treason. And we would pay our debt, for that is the price of living in a society where all are equal under the law.
It's not the crime alone, it's the attempted (or successful) derailing the investigation with piles of stinking untruths, piled high, that is also a very big crime. And if you can't do the time, don't do the crime.
Unless the Presidential pen is loaded with ink designed to write you into freedom from debt to society for your crime.
In wartime, the 'debt' for outing that agent (undercover at the time), would be classified under "treason". That's a BIG crime, with a big debt. Not just a debt to she, whose job it was to keep us safe from Weapons of Mass Destruction. The "debt" for treason is the forfeiture of life itself by the builty.
That would mean our sentence could have been modified very little. Well, if we were ordinary, guilty, treasonous felons. We might entertain our choice of, "would that be a 9 mil to the heart, or would you prefer a '38 to the brain?" Beyond that, no chance for sentence modification, except perhaps a last minute adjustment to the dessert selection of our last meal.
What is appalling in all of this -- what is truly appalling, is this. The biggest talking points will be on the "lame duckness" effect of the commutation.
Words matter. Deeds matter. And in the end, the calculus that matters is not the effect on the White House Wannabes that will matter.
The worst effects that will matter for decades to come, shall be found in the hearts and minds of children seeing yet another privileged person of political persuasion walk free, with no duty to fulfill their obligations under the law, because of the stroke of a Presidential Pen.
Oh yes, the children are watching. And when the fireworks are over, the smell of gunpowder a memory, and the sunburn has faded, what shall we answer when some cherubic voice asks, "Why did that man who was found guilty by a Court, not go to jail?"
Just how does one explain the duty to "do the time if you do the crime", in these days of "renewed honor, honesty and duty", brought to this White House thanks to a compliant Supreme Court in 2000?
Would the next Isaac "Machiavelli" Newton of political calculus explain that one, please? Loudly? Publicly? With charts and graphs and citations?
I know, it's tough. Four years of advanced mathematics have left me scratching my head too.
Political math is all about timing. Or at least it is far too often in our calculating society -- the one that is headed by the "inside" the Beltway folks.
Then there are the rest of us.
We The People...
In order to live in a nation governed by the People, establish a society based upon the equal protection of the law, and the equal obligations of all persons under that law, form a more perfect Union, and establish, (for the first time in history), the right of people to pursue happiness, recognized one important principle.
All calculations in the maths that result in whatever is following the equal sign represents true equality did an amazing thing. We declared on July 2, 1776, (hard copy not fully inked until July 4, 1776) our Independence from a system of laws based upon the status of a person, and simply declared all people were equal.
We knew then, and we all know now, though some might not want to admit it, that Equality means that if you bend or break a law, you have to pay a debt to society. If the debt is neither identified, recognized nor paid, there is a group of people above the law. And "above the law" just ain't "equal" under the law.
Except when some are more equal than others.
Like now.
Like this July 4. Some are more equal than others.
Some, after misleading the nation, and lying to the enforcers of the nation's laws, are now able to walk free, unencumbered by the reality of a debt to be paid by serving time behind bars.
Others? Not so much.
Got clout?
Plug it into the Political Calculus-inator, and out comes a commutation.
Not exactly equality under the law.
Were we, members of the still far too silent majority, found guilty of lying to an extent that an entire criminal prosecution of the underlying crime of 'outing' a federal agent doesn't happen, we'd pay. If that outed agent was concerned with the detection of, and elimination of Weapons of Freaking Mass Destruction, we would be, ourselves, rotting in prison, effectively destroyed.
If our crime was committed in wartime, the legal penalty for outing a secret agent would be rightly identified as treason. And we would pay our debt, for that is the price of living in a society where all are equal under the law.
It's not the crime alone, it's the attempted (or successful) derailing the investigation with piles of stinking untruths, piled high, that is also a very big crime. And if you can't do the time, don't do the crime.
Unless the Presidential pen is loaded with ink designed to write you into freedom from debt to society for your crime.
In wartime, the 'debt' for outing that agent (undercover at the time), would be classified under "treason". That's a BIG crime, with a big debt. Not just a debt to she, whose job it was to keep us safe from Weapons of Mass Destruction. The "debt" for treason is the forfeiture of life itself by the builty.
That would mean our sentence could have been modified very little. Well, if we were ordinary, guilty, treasonous felons. We might entertain our choice of, "would that be a 9 mil to the heart, or would you prefer a '38 to the brain?" Beyond that, no chance for sentence modification, except perhaps a last minute adjustment to the dessert selection of our last meal.
What is appalling in all of this -- what is truly appalling, is this. The biggest talking points will be on the "lame duckness" effect of the commutation.
Words matter. Deeds matter. And in the end, the calculus that matters is not the effect on the White House Wannabes that will matter.
The worst effects that will matter for decades to come, shall be found in the hearts and minds of children seeing yet another privileged person of political persuasion walk free, with no duty to fulfill their obligations under the law, because of the stroke of a Presidential Pen.
Oh yes, the children are watching. And when the fireworks are over, the smell of gunpowder a memory, and the sunburn has faded, what shall we answer when some cherubic voice asks, "Why did that man who was found guilty by a Court, not go to jail?"
Just how does one explain the duty to "do the time if you do the crime", in these days of "renewed honor, honesty and duty", brought to this White House thanks to a compliant Supreme Court in 2000?
Would the next Isaac "Machiavelli" Newton of political calculus explain that one, please? Loudly? Publicly? With charts and graphs and citations?
I know, it's tough. Four years of advanced mathematics have left me scratching my head too.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Lesson Learned -- Don't Tempt Fate 101
Pay attention here. Never, and I mean NEVER write "today's going to be a great day" if you are at risk of anything.
Seriously. Anything.
Goes double if you are writing a new blog.
Triple, if you're thinking you need a little financial stability without crisis spending for, ummm anything.
Power of Ten, if you are dealing with any of; familial insanity, personal junque falling from the sky, or you might need to find a compassionate agent to help you understand health insurance, tax bills, utility bills or the charges your phone company makes while the order you placed to change that phone company has been ignored three months running.
Oh yeah, I forgot all the "rulzzz".
And I am in such a deep hole I finally stopped digging.
There are bright spots in those clouds after all. And, my shovel is comfortably resting in the toolshed where it belongs.
So, in case you were wondering, there was a crash, then another crash, then still another crash.
I'll be back Monday.
And no, I won't be tempting the gods. Or the goddesses. Or the Supreme Being of the Universe. Not I. No more. Never again. I've learned. And I am recovering, crash free for the past few minutes, and hoping to remain that way.
So, here goes. It's going to be a day today.
Yep. That's as good as I'm gonna get today. At least, the Fates and Furies can't tag me for overzealous optimism.
And for the record, optimism reigns. Just not publicly, in a fate tempting way. Yet. For today. Just for today.
Have a good weekend all.
Seriously. Anything.
Goes double if you are writing a new blog.
Triple, if you're thinking you need a little financial stability without crisis spending for, ummm anything.
Power of Ten, if you are dealing with any of; familial insanity, personal junque falling from the sky, or you might need to find a compassionate agent to help you understand health insurance, tax bills, utility bills or the charges your phone company makes while the order you placed to change that phone company has been ignored three months running.
Oh yeah, I forgot all the "rulzzz".
And I am in such a deep hole I finally stopped digging.
There are bright spots in those clouds after all. And, my shovel is comfortably resting in the toolshed where it belongs.
So, in case you were wondering, there was a crash, then another crash, then still another crash.
I'll be back Monday.
And no, I won't be tempting the gods. Or the goddesses. Or the Supreme Being of the Universe. Not I. No more. Never again. I've learned. And I am recovering, crash free for the past few minutes, and hoping to remain that way.
So, here goes. It's going to be a day today.
Yep. That's as good as I'm gonna get today. At least, the Fates and Furies can't tag me for overzealous optimism.
And for the record, optimism reigns. Just not publicly, in a fate tempting way. Yet. For today. Just for today.
Have a good weekend all.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
My Muse--The Addictive Writer
It's true. My Muse likes fountain pens. Really. In an age of high tech, the Muse I meet prefers real pens, real ink in a bottle, and a feed system based on capillary action. I've come to accept reality. My Muse is just sooooo 19th, well all right, 20th Century. I am my Muse, and not. Whatever lets the Muse speaks is the best tool for me.
In fact, I've been literally (and literately) accused of being ever so last century for reasons other than choice of writing equipment. There are huge advantages to a slower means of writing, not the least of it being handwriting generates one copy only. My Muse prefers a rough drafts, real letters sent by post, notes, memos, and assorted labeling matters done in the old fashioned paper and ink mode.
I've yet to find a laptop that survives a reading session in a tub filled with bubbles of wonderfully smelly stuff. It must be the water.
But this is about the writing. This is about the communication with people, not necessarily with machines. Machines, such as computers are tools.
Some tools work better than others.
Sometimes if you rush, you miss meeting a Muse. I think of my Muse as terrifically fond of real ink pens. Bottles filled with colorful potions bearing labels of "WidowMaker", "Bouton D'Or" or "Prussian Blue" are lined up in the ink bottle tray. Each color fits a mood, or fits a pen.
Now, don't get me wrong. My Muse also views computers and electronic wizardry as wonderful. Even the lowly ballpoint pens are good tools, when necessary. I avoid purchase of those mass produced, use, lose and forget-'em ball points. There are plenty of them available if you keep your eyes open. Check the bus stop. You'll average one a week if you're looking.
Typewriters allowed authors avoid the ignomy of being dismissed for poor penmanship. Then computers made writing faster and easier to send 'round the world. But in that speed, that rush, the still small voice of the Muse is harried, or may be missed entirely.
For those times, there is nothing like a fountain pen. At least for me. And they can be outrageously inexpensive at garage sales, back to school promotions and online. Try any search engine, like Google and thousands of fountain pens appear with enticing marketing and prices from a dollar to thousands.
Don't worry though about the Muse getting too pricey to afford. In fact, purchasing fountain pens is sometimes not necessary at all. I found a Parker 51 rolling about on the Chicago El. That pen, a workhorse, has a very smooth nib, holds a lot of ink, and is one of the best "purchases" I've ever made. (Hey, it cost $1.50 for the ride!)
The Muse here never makes a nasty comment about pen or any writing instrument. I like what I like. You like what you like. Personally I am sort of wondering about the rock table/hammer and chisel folks, but to each--his, her, or its own.
Fair warning. Founatin pens might be a problem for certain people with addictive personality. For them, there is the Fountain Pen Twelve Step Program. That is a program where you purchase 12 fountain pens along with appropriate inks, papers and the whole shebang. Then repeat the process as many times as possible until you achieve "pen-ury".
Fountain pen collectors can be just as addicted as watch collectors, art collectors, violin collectors or any "collectors". Check out The Fountain Pen Network for more information.
But this is about finding your Muse. And this post is about finding your Muse through using a tool. If your search for your Muse has hit a wall of sorts, try an equipment change. Refit the tool belt. Sign onto the technology that works best for you. I know a writer who photographs blackboards, filled with chalky writing, and then washes the board, and starts again. It's a far more certain process with the advent of digital photography and the instant ability to see the picture does hold the entire writing before the erasing and starting over begins.
Whatever.
Any tool for finding your Muse might be addictive. You might be addicted to the process of finding your Muse. For me, there is a Siren in that ink holder, fitted with nib, feed mechanism and some literature in liquid form.
The cause of my addictive disorder is "Pendora's Bottle". It is a creature akin to Pandora's Box. When you open your first bottle of fountain pen ink, the powers of the "Gotta Have More" Fountain Pen Genie is released. Stand too close (anywhere less than 50 feet) and you're on the path to a Membership Card in that fountain pen Twelve Step Program, or just a bunch of wonderful pens and a staggering array of inks very soon.
(Don't worry. Your membership documents will be done up in lovely calligraphy, with a real ink pen, colorfully done, and in your own handwriting to boot.) Sure, the method of writing with a fountain pen is very old school. Yet it is a means of communication that makes writing more about the process, the thought, the beauty of putting the words into concrete form. There is ceremony to writing with a fountain pen. A pen is a small thing in so many ways, yet it is a gateway into the world of words, ideas and thoughts.
My Muse is addicted to fountain pens. Yours might be hooked on ever faster processing speeds with WiFi availability. Step One, admit the problem -- done.
Muses tend to work with the tools that work best for us. A pen may be a work of art in its own right and a way to slow down and allow your Muse to be heard. It is a vehicle for expression that demands respect from the writer. It may be last century technology, but in the short time we humans have been writing, it is one of the few tools we have that allows us to record our thoughts with nothing more than a piece of paper and a pen in our possession. The fountain pen, that addictive mechanism of tubes and nib, allows us to quiet the hustle and bustle and hear, listen, to that small voice inside that speaks, often slowly, to make the Muse heard.
No extras required -- no 'links', no software, no electricity, no nothing. Just a pen and piece of paper. And the process. And the opportunity to meet your Muse that might just work at the speed of handwriting.
As I said. To each, his, hers or whatever. Find the tool that works today, perhaps change tools tomorrow. Just meet your Muse. And listen.
Hmmm. Where'd I put the Brilliant Black? Or is it Prussian Blue day? It's time for a little exploration of the certain tool I need today in the world of my Muse.
In fact, I've been literally (and literately) accused of being ever so last century for reasons other than choice of writing equipment. There are huge advantages to a slower means of writing, not the least of it being handwriting generates one copy only. My Muse prefers a rough drafts, real letters sent by post, notes, memos, and assorted labeling matters done in the old fashioned paper and ink mode.
I've yet to find a laptop that survives a reading session in a tub filled with bubbles of wonderfully smelly stuff. It must be the water.
But this is about the writing. This is about the communication with people, not necessarily with machines. Machines, such as computers are tools.
Some tools work better than others.
Sometimes if you rush, you miss meeting a Muse. I think of my Muse as terrifically fond of real ink pens. Bottles filled with colorful potions bearing labels of "WidowMaker", "Bouton D'Or" or "Prussian Blue" are lined up in the ink bottle tray. Each color fits a mood, or fits a pen.
Now, don't get me wrong. My Muse also views computers and electronic wizardry as wonderful. Even the lowly ballpoint pens are good tools, when necessary. I avoid purchase of those mass produced, use, lose and forget-'em ball points. There are plenty of them available if you keep your eyes open. Check the bus stop. You'll average one a week if you're looking.
Typewriters allowed authors avoid the ignomy of being dismissed for poor penmanship. Then computers made writing faster and easier to send 'round the world. But in that speed, that rush, the still small voice of the Muse is harried, or may be missed entirely.
For those times, there is nothing like a fountain pen. At least for me. And they can be outrageously inexpensive at garage sales, back to school promotions and online. Try any search engine, like Google and thousands of fountain pens appear with enticing marketing and prices from a dollar to thousands.
Don't worry though about the Muse getting too pricey to afford. In fact, purchasing fountain pens is sometimes not necessary at all. I found a Parker 51 rolling about on the Chicago El. That pen, a workhorse, has a very smooth nib, holds a lot of ink, and is one of the best "purchases" I've ever made. (Hey, it cost $1.50 for the ride!)
The Muse here never makes a nasty comment about pen or any writing instrument. I like what I like. You like what you like. Personally I am sort of wondering about the rock table/hammer and chisel folks, but to each--his, her, or its own.
Fair warning. Founatin pens might be a problem for certain people with addictive personality. For them, there is the Fountain Pen Twelve Step Program. That is a program where you purchase 12 fountain pens along with appropriate inks, papers and the whole shebang. Then repeat the process as many times as possible until you achieve "pen-ury".
Fountain pen collectors can be just as addicted as watch collectors, art collectors, violin collectors or any "collectors". Check out The Fountain Pen Network for more information.
But this is about finding your Muse. And this post is about finding your Muse through using a tool. If your search for your Muse has hit a wall of sorts, try an equipment change. Refit the tool belt. Sign onto the technology that works best for you. I know a writer who photographs blackboards, filled with chalky writing, and then washes the board, and starts again. It's a far more certain process with the advent of digital photography and the instant ability to see the picture does hold the entire writing before the erasing and starting over begins.
Whatever.
Any tool for finding your Muse might be addictive. You might be addicted to the process of finding your Muse. For me, there is a Siren in that ink holder, fitted with nib, feed mechanism and some literature in liquid form.
The cause of my addictive disorder is "Pendora's Bottle". It is a creature akin to Pandora's Box. When you open your first bottle of fountain pen ink, the powers of the "Gotta Have More" Fountain Pen Genie is released. Stand too close (anywhere less than 50 feet) and you're on the path to a Membership Card in that fountain pen Twelve Step Program, or just a bunch of wonderful pens and a staggering array of inks very soon.
(Don't worry. Your membership documents will be done up in lovely calligraphy, with a real ink pen, colorfully done, and in your own handwriting to boot.) Sure, the method of writing with a fountain pen is very old school. Yet it is a means of communication that makes writing more about the process, the thought, the beauty of putting the words into concrete form. There is ceremony to writing with a fountain pen. A pen is a small thing in so many ways, yet it is a gateway into the world of words, ideas and thoughts.
My Muse is addicted to fountain pens. Yours might be hooked on ever faster processing speeds with WiFi availability. Step One, admit the problem -- done.
Muses tend to work with the tools that work best for us. A pen may be a work of art in its own right and a way to slow down and allow your Muse to be heard. It is a vehicle for expression that demands respect from the writer. It may be last century technology, but in the short time we humans have been writing, it is one of the few tools we have that allows us to record our thoughts with nothing more than a piece of paper and a pen in our possession. The fountain pen, that addictive mechanism of tubes and nib, allows us to quiet the hustle and bustle and hear, listen, to that small voice inside that speaks, often slowly, to make the Muse heard.
No extras required -- no 'links', no software, no electricity, no nothing. Just a pen and piece of paper. And the process. And the opportunity to meet your Muse that might just work at the speed of handwriting.
As I said. To each, his, hers or whatever. Find the tool that works today, perhaps change tools tomorrow. Just meet your Muse. And listen.
Hmmm. Where'd I put the Brilliant Black? Or is it Prussian Blue day? It's time for a little exploration of the certain tool I need today in the world of my Muse.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Monday Morning Muse
It's going to be a great day!
I know this because the sun is rising, the temperatures are warm enough for a light sweater, the trees are filling with that wonderful spring green only visible a few days a year, and there's laughter outside my windows.
That's right. The kidlets of the neighborhood are getting to the last days of school and they are feeling the freedom close at hand. I live near a college. This past weekend was filled with commencement exercises, parties, family celebrations and a few raucous parties for those leaving school for the big wide world.
Over the next days, the neighborhood will empty out. Students moving from the dorms will return home, travel to Europe for study, or simply leave for a holiday. Families will leave town for the Memorial Day weekend, and those of us remaining will marvel at the quiet of early summer mornings once again.
Then we shall hear the silence. It is time to wander to the river. A brief saunter around the campus near my home brings me to the property of an old seminary. Students there study God. I study the silence of God for a moment. Quietly, I move across the lawn and listen. All of us occupying that area, even for a few short minutes, listen for some sound or other. Are we listening to God? Is God speaking on the morning breeze?
Wandering a bit further to the west, I reach the banks of the Mississippi River. The river is not very wide at this point, having grown from a trickle up in northern Minnesota. My part of my Mississippi is north of Lock and Dam No. 1. There are few boats travelling the river this far north. Most carry food, coal or other commodities.
The banks are steep and filled with trees, wildflowers and an array of birds that is breathtaking. I often stand still and look up, hoping to see the what newcomers are arriving on the last waves of the spring migration.
Owls, flying on silent wings, swoop from the air and capture a bit of breakfast for their young.
I listen intently to hear the sounds of the river. The sounds of traffic are muted along the riverbank where the trees are thick. Sharp ratta-tat-tapping indicates a pileated woodpecker is finding bugs for a feast. Other sounds tell me squirrels are warning an intruder away from their young. A rustling of leaves indicates a raccoon is rumbling along the river, earnestly seeking nourishment.
We are fed by this river, all of us. Our bread rides south in barges filled with grain. Our lights are powered by coal transported by riverboat. Our books go past in the form of pulpwood. Our souls are filled and fed by the music of birds and conversations among the small animals calling the riverbank their home.
This river, this watery highway of commerce and path of migration, is my home. This river was home to Mark Twain. This river on this Monday morning is my inspiration. I stand still one more time, listening to the river. I am spellbound as I behold limitless beauty moving before my eyes. The river is alive with possibilities.
Monday morning, on the riverbank, and it shall be a wonder filled day indeed.
I know this because the sun is rising, the temperatures are warm enough for a light sweater, the trees are filling with that wonderful spring green only visible a few days a year, and there's laughter outside my windows.
That's right. The kidlets of the neighborhood are getting to the last days of school and they are feeling the freedom close at hand. I live near a college. This past weekend was filled with commencement exercises, parties, family celebrations and a few raucous parties for those leaving school for the big wide world.
Over the next days, the neighborhood will empty out. Students moving from the dorms will return home, travel to Europe for study, or simply leave for a holiday. Families will leave town for the Memorial Day weekend, and those of us remaining will marvel at the quiet of early summer mornings once again.
Then we shall hear the silence. It is time to wander to the river. A brief saunter around the campus near my home brings me to the property of an old seminary. Students there study God. I study the silence of God for a moment. Quietly, I move across the lawn and listen. All of us occupying that area, even for a few short minutes, listen for some sound or other. Are we listening to God? Is God speaking on the morning breeze?
Wandering a bit further to the west, I reach the banks of the Mississippi River. The river is not very wide at this point, having grown from a trickle up in northern Minnesota. My part of my Mississippi is north of Lock and Dam No. 1. There are few boats travelling the river this far north. Most carry food, coal or other commodities.
The banks are steep and filled with trees, wildflowers and an array of birds that is breathtaking. I often stand still and look up, hoping to see the what newcomers are arriving on the last waves of the spring migration.
Owls, flying on silent wings, swoop from the air and capture a bit of breakfast for their young.
I listen intently to hear the sounds of the river. The sounds of traffic are muted along the riverbank where the trees are thick. Sharp ratta-tat-tapping indicates a pileated woodpecker is finding bugs for a feast. Other sounds tell me squirrels are warning an intruder away from their young. A rustling of leaves indicates a raccoon is rumbling along the river, earnestly seeking nourishment.
We are fed by this river, all of us. Our bread rides south in barges filled with grain. Our lights are powered by coal transported by riverboat. Our books go past in the form of pulpwood. Our souls are filled and fed by the music of birds and conversations among the small animals calling the riverbank their home.
This river, this watery highway of commerce and path of migration, is my home. This river was home to Mark Twain. This river on this Monday morning is my inspiration. I stand still one more time, listening to the river. I am spellbound as I behold limitless beauty moving before my eyes. The river is alive with possibilities.
Monday morning, on the riverbank, and it shall be a wonder filled day indeed.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Which Muse? Can I Rent A Muse?
It's Friday, that run-up to the weekend. One of the projects of Friday afternoon is to assess what you'll be doing Monday. More accurately, you need to figure out what needs to be done on Monday, and whether or not you'll be spending the weekend with your computer, chained to some desk or other.
Maybe you need something, a paragraph or two, perhaps a white paper. Maybe you simply need a small bit of verbiage that will accomplish something, but you aren't sure exactly what to do. Or, you're overwhelmed, and you need a bit of help to get things done.
Perhaps you need to meet, and Rent A Muse. You need to Meet a Muse that will help you get the work done so you can go to the beach, show up at the barbeque, or take in a ball game. You can Meet A Muse here who will make your life easier.
It's about tools. It's about using help that is available. It's about keeping your sanity. It's also about having a weekend off before the next Millennium.
You can rent a Muse here at Meet A Muse to make the words come together for whatever project you need done.
For example, if I am working out on a task, such as a marketing letter, then I summon the Marketing Muse. I work with all Muse seekers to be sure the best writing I can do for your communications with your clients. That's true for any communication project, in-house, B2B, or copy for promoting a product or service.
Do you needs a scathingly brilliant idea or two, but have no idea whatsoever that idea will turn out to be when it is transformed from a "hmmm, might be interesting" into a "WOW, could I do that?!?!?" sort of project, I'll bring out the Marketing Muse to help with marketing those "WOW" ideas. And the not so earthshaking ideas, but if there is any WOW to be found, Meet A Muse will help you find it.
Meet A Muse will introduce you to a Muse to perform those descriptive tasks that will help you focus on the very best way to sell something. Believe me, there will be no lying allowed. At the same time, we'll put words together to help make someone want to do that something you want them to do. And the Muse you meet here will do that without even any disgusting, slicked up, slimy sales strategies of any salesman who'd lie rather than tell the simple truth, even when truth would make the sale.
For the times when a lot of information needs to be distilled into a single coherent message, I'll help you meet the Researcher Muse. Or, if you need to come up with a distillation of huge amounts of data, and then sell it, I'll bring out the Persuader Muse.
Do you have a new invention you want to market to another company? Check here, and Meet A Muse will introduce you to the Intellectual Property Protector Muse.
Maybe you need research paper completed for your employer. We'll help you meet the Data Distilling Muse. Lots and lots of facts can be pulled together, alternative courses of action described and the concerns of potential naysayers refuted, often before they open their mouths.
Monday morning is looming. Do you need a brochure prepared? Perhaps you want a few posts on some blogs in your field. Are you about to pull a catalog together? Remember the Marketing Muse is here to prepare copy for you.
Of course if you are simply unsure of what Muse you want to meet here, just drop an email to me at penplay@juno.com.
Meet A Muse is here to serve you. If you are unsure of exactly which Muse you want to meet, give a shout and Meet A Muse will answer your questions, help you define the project, or lend a hand.
Meet A Muse will work with you, and for you, on any project . The Muse you meet will get what needs to be done, completed on time, and to your satisfaction.
All you need to do is ask. We'll meet your creative needs when you Meet a Muse
Maybe you need something, a paragraph or two, perhaps a white paper. Maybe you simply need a small bit of verbiage that will accomplish something, but you aren't sure exactly what to do. Or, you're overwhelmed, and you need a bit of help to get things done.
Perhaps you need to meet, and Rent A Muse. You need to Meet a Muse that will help you get the work done so you can go to the beach, show up at the barbeque, or take in a ball game. You can Meet A Muse here who will make your life easier.
It's about tools. It's about using help that is available. It's about keeping your sanity. It's also about having a weekend off before the next Millennium.
You can rent a Muse here at Meet A Muse to make the words come together for whatever project you need done.
For example, if I am working out on a task, such as a marketing letter, then I summon the Marketing Muse. I work with all Muse seekers to be sure the best writing I can do for your communications with your clients. That's true for any communication project, in-house, B2B, or copy for promoting a product or service.
Do you needs a scathingly brilliant idea or two, but have no idea whatsoever that idea will turn out to be when it is transformed from a "hmmm, might be interesting" into a "WOW, could I do that?!?!?" sort of project, I'll bring out the Marketing Muse to help with marketing those "WOW" ideas. And the not so earthshaking ideas, but if there is any WOW to be found, Meet A Muse will help you find it.
Meet A Muse will introduce you to a Muse to perform those descriptive tasks that will help you focus on the very best way to sell something. Believe me, there will be no lying allowed. At the same time, we'll put words together to help make someone want to do that something you want them to do. And the Muse you meet here will do that without even any disgusting, slicked up, slimy sales strategies of any salesman who'd lie rather than tell the simple truth, even when truth would make the sale.
For the times when a lot of information needs to be distilled into a single coherent message, I'll help you meet the Researcher Muse. Or, if you need to come up with a distillation of huge amounts of data, and then sell it, I'll bring out the Persuader Muse.
Do you have a new invention you want to market to another company? Check here, and Meet A Muse will introduce you to the Intellectual Property Protector Muse.
Maybe you need research paper completed for your employer. We'll help you meet the Data Distilling Muse. Lots and lots of facts can be pulled together, alternative courses of action described and the concerns of potential naysayers refuted, often before they open their mouths.
Monday morning is looming. Do you need a brochure prepared? Perhaps you want a few posts on some blogs in your field. Are you about to pull a catalog together? Remember the Marketing Muse is here to prepare copy for you.
Of course if you are simply unsure of what Muse you want to meet here, just drop an email to me at penplay@juno.com.
Meet A Muse is here to serve you. If you are unsure of exactly which Muse you want to meet, give a shout and Meet A Muse will answer your questions, help you define the project, or lend a hand.
Meet A Muse will work with you, and for you, on any project . The Muse you meet will get what needs to be done, completed on time, and to your satisfaction.
All you need to do is ask. We'll meet your creative needs when you Meet a Muse
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
My Musical Muse and The Space Between
Like they say in the commercial, no one can have just one. By that, I mean none of use is constrained by a limit on the number of muses we have within us. We learn much from our muses, whether we recognize that learning or not.
I have the Muses of Listening, Reading, Writing, Conversing, Running, Walking, Swimming, Drawing, and Playing. And there are still more Muses within me.
My favorite Muse is my Musical Muse. She is. Yeah, I know, she is a "she". Then again, so am I. Except when playing Liszt, when I wail and moan that I can't locate my third and fourth hand, each having six very long and absurdly muscular, coordinated fingers. At those moments, I often think my Musical Muse is some genderless being composed of ill intent. But I digress.
My Musical Muse is the guide that helps me listen and play. My Musical Muse is my teacher, my friend and my guide. My main instrument is the violin, so if you're not a violinist, be patient. There is a message in this for musicians of all sorts, from rock to chant, instrumental or voice, musicians and self-defined non-musicians, players, or listeners.
And the first thing my Musical Muse reminds me of each day is the importance of active listening. Listening, at its best is never sitting back and allowing sounds to wash over you as a spring shower bathes the earth. No, not at all.
Listening is a very active process. Listening is an engaging process where you receive information that has meaning. Think of it like riding a bicycle. If you're going for a ride on a bicycle, you are not just sitting there on the bike seat doing nothing. Even if you are riding on someone else's handlebars, you are actively remaining in balance with the bicycle as it moves along. When you coast on a bicycle, you have to maintain your balance or you'll not be riding for long. The same is true of listening.
When you are listening to a friend speaking, you are active. You are taking in the message. You are balancing on the sounds you perceive, investigating them, translating the message.
When you listen to music, you are actively taking in the sounds and making sense of them. Even when you listen to "white noise", that formless, content void of sound, you are listening to the nothing. In silence you listen to the lack of music, a coherent sound stream with a message. The same is true of the music of speech or the hubbub of the city as heard in Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue.
There is a Zen-like statement that goes something like this: music is not the notes, it is the space between the notes. A single note, even perfectly sung or perfectly played, is just that. It is only a note. It is not music. Skills of the mythical bad violist notwithstanding, the ability to play a single 64th note is just that. A note without music.
The space between the notes gives you direction, the pulse of the music, the flow. The space informs the listener of the musical style, the emotion within a phrase, even the goal of a tune. The spaces between the notes recognizes that a high A vibrates in the air differently from middle C.
The "space between" informs us that the music is a march, a dance or a dirge.
In speech we also have the space between the notes. The spaces are punctuation, phrasing, meter, and the spaces that define the end of one thought and the beginning of another.
In art, we have the spacing between the colors. The color red is a different wavelength of light from the color blue.
In comedy, the space is the timing, the pause, the moment when a funny bone is tickled.
Frequency and time, the currency of Music. Frequency and time, the currency of communication.
Frequency and time--the space between.
And so my Musical Muse reminds me each day to listen to that space between. The frequency and modulation of the cawing crow or the trill of the robin. The space between the chirps of a sparrow. The frequency and modulation of the phrase of Liszt or the muscular run of notes in the Barber Violin Concerto.
It is by listening we learn what is going on in the world. The newscaster, pundit and preacher all depend on our listening to the spaces between. The music of the world in words, music or noise informs us as we listen to the Musical Muse.
Take a moment, listen, and thank your own Musical Muse. You've learned so much from Music, and will learn much more this day.
Listen. Are you hearing the space between the notes that tells you a police siren is approaching, or that a child is crying? Are you hearing happy laughter or a derisive chuckle? Listen. Drink in the music of the world. It is the voice of your Musical Muse informing you that what you are hearing is what you will learn in this very special moment.
And thank the music for the space between. In that space, the chasm between the notes is the music.
I have the Muses of Listening, Reading, Writing, Conversing, Running, Walking, Swimming, Drawing, and Playing. And there are still more Muses within me.
My favorite Muse is my Musical Muse. She is. Yeah, I know, she is a "she". Then again, so am I. Except when playing Liszt, when I wail and moan that I can't locate my third and fourth hand, each having six very long and absurdly muscular, coordinated fingers. At those moments, I often think my Musical Muse is some genderless being composed of ill intent. But I digress.
My Musical Muse is the guide that helps me listen and play. My Musical Muse is my teacher, my friend and my guide. My main instrument is the violin, so if you're not a violinist, be patient. There is a message in this for musicians of all sorts, from rock to chant, instrumental or voice, musicians and self-defined non-musicians, players, or listeners.
And the first thing my Musical Muse reminds me of each day is the importance of active listening. Listening, at its best is never sitting back and allowing sounds to wash over you as a spring shower bathes the earth. No, not at all.
Listening is a very active process. Listening is an engaging process where you receive information that has meaning. Think of it like riding a bicycle. If you're going for a ride on a bicycle, you are not just sitting there on the bike seat doing nothing. Even if you are riding on someone else's handlebars, you are actively remaining in balance with the bicycle as it moves along. When you coast on a bicycle, you have to maintain your balance or you'll not be riding for long. The same is true of listening.
When you are listening to a friend speaking, you are active. You are taking in the message. You are balancing on the sounds you perceive, investigating them, translating the message.
When you listen to music, you are actively taking in the sounds and making sense of them. Even when you listen to "white noise", that formless, content void of sound, you are listening to the nothing. In silence you listen to the lack of music, a coherent sound stream with a message. The same is true of the music of speech or the hubbub of the city as heard in Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue.
There is a Zen-like statement that goes something like this: music is not the notes, it is the space between the notes. A single note, even perfectly sung or perfectly played, is just that. It is only a note. It is not music. Skills of the mythical bad violist notwithstanding, the ability to play a single 64th note is just that. A note without music.
The space between the notes gives you direction, the pulse of the music, the flow. The space informs the listener of the musical style, the emotion within a phrase, even the goal of a tune. The spaces between the notes recognizes that a high A vibrates in the air differently from middle C.
The "space between" informs us that the music is a march, a dance or a dirge.
In speech we also have the space between the notes. The spaces are punctuation, phrasing, meter, and the spaces that define the end of one thought and the beginning of another.
In art, we have the spacing between the colors. The color red is a different wavelength of light from the color blue.
In comedy, the space is the timing, the pause, the moment when a funny bone is tickled.
Frequency and time, the currency of Music. Frequency and time, the currency of communication.
Frequency and time--the space between.
And so my Musical Muse reminds me each day to listen to that space between. The frequency and modulation of the cawing crow or the trill of the robin. The space between the chirps of a sparrow. The frequency and modulation of the phrase of Liszt or the muscular run of notes in the Barber Violin Concerto.
It is by listening we learn what is going on in the world. The newscaster, pundit and preacher all depend on our listening to the spaces between. The music of the world in words, music or noise informs us as we listen to the Musical Muse.
Take a moment, listen, and thank your own Musical Muse. You've learned so much from Music, and will learn much more this day.
Listen. Are you hearing the space between the notes that tells you a police siren is approaching, or that a child is crying? Are you hearing happy laughter or a derisive chuckle? Listen. Drink in the music of the world. It is the voice of your Musical Muse informing you that what you are hearing is what you will learn in this very special moment.
And thank the music for the space between. In that space, the chasm between the notes is the music.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Reviewer Muse -- Finding Help For Your Creative Muse
There are only a few days left in May. Perhaps your deadline has "graduation" at the end of it. You might just be working on one of those longer projects and are stuck with "something not being right" but you're uncertain what that "something" is. Whatever applies, your deadline means you move from where you are to somewhere else. The deadline is just that. Either you pass it or you are for all practical purposes, stopped dead where you presently stand. Or sit.
If you're in school, your assignment might have been given weeks ago, but there was Spring Break, spring weather and a general sense of "it will all end soon, and then my life will be my own again".
Some call it "senior-itis". Sometimes it's a simple realization that your grades won't matter much as you already have that great job lined up. Some call it fatigue. You may even think of it as getting to the end of the "sentence", even a "release date" if you think of school as prison (or purgatory) where you've spent the past years learning something, anything, useful to land you a job.
You've got the job. You're certain of the next step, which may be more schooling or it may be a year off, or it might be going to work for "International Gizmo and Widget" (or their lawyers, bankers, or health care providers.
All that stands in your way is that research paper. Or that writing project. Maybe it's a speech. No matter what it is, you are unsure if this is going to be your best work. Maybe you are so sick of the work from the past nine months that you frankly don't care what you write, just so long as the pages are filled and you turn in anything. You just want this project to end. Now. Right NOW.
Well try this on. Find a Muse for a little creative review of what you've done to date. That's right. Ask the reviewer to be your very own "Muse For A Moment", your "Reviewer Muse". It's not a job with the perks of "Queen For A Day", but you aren't giving prizes to the reviewer. You're giving yourself the gift of perspective.
Can you as the creator of your own work, step back dispassionately, review, edit, fill in the blanks or suggest improvements to your own work? Are you able to be neutral about judgments concerning content, rhythm, pacing, flow and word choice?
Really? Are you sure you can do this with a bad case of spring fever, senior-itis, new-found love (hey, it happens in the spring -- ask Shakespeare), or while you have to move from one end of the country to the other for that new job that starts in 3 weeks?
If you can honestly say you are able to be unaffected by "life" as you complete this task, good on you. If not, find someone to be your Reviewer Muse. This is not a job for the creative muse type that got the project off the ground at the beginning. That Muse was in you, part of you, and worked with you through long hours of research and writing.
The Reviewer Muse is probably not the Muse in your own head. In fact, the Reviewer Muse might be the best friend you can ever meet. Hiring a Reviewer Muse is like hiring any professional. They often work for no pay, but your choice is important. Payment to a Reviewer Muse may be by the page, project or time. Reviewer Muses often work for hugs (parents and significant others), treats (friends) or cold hard cash (professional editors).
Make sure the reviewer knows a bit about what they are reviewing. If you're writing a technical paper, then find a muse with some experience in the field. If you are unable to find anyone with prior skills, can the reviewer at least help with grammar and punctuation? Can you provide a "cheat sheet" with which words are proper nouns, nouns, verbs and singular/plurals in your writing?
If you're writing for a particularly skilled audience, can you find someone that fits that profile to complete your review? If needed, you may have to swear your Reviewer Muse to secrecy. Remember, if you're working on a project for International Widget concerning their new improved product, you want to avoid International Widget's competition for help on your "white paper", confidentiality agreements notwithstanding.
When you have your Reviewer Muse, and the changes are before you, read them carefully. Accept what is good, work with works, discard that which makes no sense. Then go for a walk, review one more time.
Finish the job. Then break out the boxes and packing tape. Move on to that new job a thousand miles away, or just walk into tomorrow with a light heart. You did your best, got the help you needed and it's time to start anew.
If you're in school, your assignment might have been given weeks ago, but there was Spring Break, spring weather and a general sense of "it will all end soon, and then my life will be my own again".
Some call it "senior-itis". Sometimes it's a simple realization that your grades won't matter much as you already have that great job lined up. Some call it fatigue. You may even think of it as getting to the end of the "sentence", even a "release date" if you think of school as prison (or purgatory) where you've spent the past years learning something, anything, useful to land you a job.
You've got the job. You're certain of the next step, which may be more schooling or it may be a year off, or it might be going to work for "International Gizmo and Widget" (or their lawyers, bankers, or health care providers.
All that stands in your way is that research paper. Or that writing project. Maybe it's a speech. No matter what it is, you are unsure if this is going to be your best work. Maybe you are so sick of the work from the past nine months that you frankly don't care what you write, just so long as the pages are filled and you turn in anything. You just want this project to end. Now. Right NOW.
Well try this on. Find a Muse for a little creative review of what you've done to date. That's right. Ask the reviewer to be your very own "Muse For A Moment", your "Reviewer Muse". It's not a job with the perks of "Queen For A Day", but you aren't giving prizes to the reviewer. You're giving yourself the gift of perspective.
Can you as the creator of your own work, step back dispassionately, review, edit, fill in the blanks or suggest improvements to your own work? Are you able to be neutral about judgments concerning content, rhythm, pacing, flow and word choice?
Really? Are you sure you can do this with a bad case of spring fever, senior-itis, new-found love (hey, it happens in the spring -- ask Shakespeare), or while you have to move from one end of the country to the other for that new job that starts in 3 weeks?
If you can honestly say you are able to be unaffected by "life" as you complete this task, good on you. If not, find someone to be your Reviewer Muse. This is not a job for the creative muse type that got the project off the ground at the beginning. That Muse was in you, part of you, and worked with you through long hours of research and writing.
The Reviewer Muse is probably not the Muse in your own head. In fact, the Reviewer Muse might be the best friend you can ever meet. Hiring a Reviewer Muse is like hiring any professional. They often work for no pay, but your choice is important. Payment to a Reviewer Muse may be by the page, project or time. Reviewer Muses often work for hugs (parents and significant others), treats (friends) or cold hard cash (professional editors).
Make sure the reviewer knows a bit about what they are reviewing. If you're writing a technical paper, then find a muse with some experience in the field. If you are unable to find anyone with prior skills, can the reviewer at least help with grammar and punctuation? Can you provide a "cheat sheet" with which words are proper nouns, nouns, verbs and singular/plurals in your writing?
If you're writing for a particularly skilled audience, can you find someone that fits that profile to complete your review? If needed, you may have to swear your Reviewer Muse to secrecy. Remember, if you're working on a project for International Widget concerning their new improved product, you want to avoid International Widget's competition for help on your "white paper", confidentiality agreements notwithstanding.
When you have your Reviewer Muse, and the changes are before you, read them carefully. Accept what is good, work with works, discard that which makes no sense. Then go for a walk, review one more time.
Finish the job. Then break out the boxes and packing tape. Move on to that new job a thousand miles away, or just walk into tomorrow with a light heart. You did your best, got the help you needed and it's time to start anew.
Reviewer MuseThe Muse of the Thesis--The Muse on Research Papers--The Muse on Writing Projects
There are only a few weeks until it all begins again.
Yep. School is around the corner, and the shops have already started the 'Back to School' sales.
The goal has "graduation" at the end of it. The deadline means you move from where you are to somewhere else. The deadline is just a line in time. Either you pass it or you are, for all practical purposes, just where you presently stand. Or sit.
When school starts, you will get an assignment, and there might be a break involved before you turn in your masterpiece. This autumn, you might find weather and a general sense of "it will all end soon, and then my life will be my own again" will be dangling before your eyes like the Sirens tempting Odysseus.
Some call it "senior-itis". Sometimes it's a simple realization that your grades won't matter much as you already have a great job lined up. Some call it fatigue. You may even think of it as getting to the end of the "sentence", even a "release date" if you think of school as a prison where you've spent the past years learning something, anything, useful to land you a job.
But don't fall for the nonsense that you're getting to the end and grades don't matter any longer. Five or even twenty-five years down the road, you might find that you must submit a transcript to get the next job. Grades will matter then, and there will be nothing you can do about it then.
This year, it might be wise to dedicate August to a little 'thinking ahead'. You know the courses you'll be taking, and you've likely got a good idea there will be a paper or thesis due. Start reading. Start writing. Start researching. Now.
--------------------------------
That's right. Give the Muse a jump start.
You've got the job. You're certain of the next step, which may be more schooling or it may be a year off, or it might be going to work for "International Gizmo and Widget" (or their lawyers, bankers, or health care providers.
All that stands in your way is graduation. No worries about that research paper, or many other assignments. Or that writing project. Maybe it's a speech.
But what stands in our way in the long view is this. We need to be able to get an "A+++" every day when we're working. It's a Pass/Fail system. You do well or you fail. That's it.
So, dust off that Muse finding technique, whatever is your favorite. And just for practice, give yourself exactly 3 days to do a very complex project, equal to the most complex project you've done in school (or at work, if school is a distant memory). Science geeks might want to avoid the 'bench chemistry' on the kitchen table for safety's sake.
If you're nowhere near graduation, either too far in the future, or too long in the past, try it anyway. Challenges are good. Intellectual challenges are fun. At the end of the day, when the "new year" starts on Labor Day, you'll be ready for more challenges at work, and in life.
Yep. School is around the corner, and the shops have already started the 'Back to School' sales.
The goal has "graduation" at the end of it. The deadline means you move from where you are to somewhere else. The deadline is just a line in time. Either you pass it or you are, for all practical purposes, just where you presently stand. Or sit.
When school starts, you will get an assignment, and there might be a break involved before you turn in your masterpiece. This autumn, you might find weather and a general sense of "it will all end soon, and then my life will be my own again" will be dangling before your eyes like the Sirens tempting Odysseus.
Some call it "senior-itis". Sometimes it's a simple realization that your grades won't matter much as you already have a great job lined up. Some call it fatigue. You may even think of it as getting to the end of the "sentence", even a "release date" if you think of school as a prison where you've spent the past years learning something, anything, useful to land you a job.
But don't fall for the nonsense that you're getting to the end and grades don't matter any longer. Five or even twenty-five years down the road, you might find that you must submit a transcript to get the next job. Grades will matter then, and there will be nothing you can do about it then.
This year, it might be wise to dedicate August to a little 'thinking ahead'. You know the courses you'll be taking, and you've likely got a good idea there will be a paper or thesis due. Start reading. Start writing. Start researching. Now.
--------------------------------
That's right. Give the Muse a jump start.
You've got the job. You're certain of the next step, which may be more schooling or it may be a year off, or it might be going to work for "International Gizmo and Widget" (or their lawyers, bankers, or health care providers.
All that stands in your way is graduation. No worries about that research paper, or many other assignments. Or that writing project. Maybe it's a speech.
But what stands in our way in the long view is this. We need to be able to get an "A+++" every day when we're working. It's a Pass/Fail system. You do well or you fail. That's it.
So, dust off that Muse finding technique, whatever is your favorite. And just for practice, give yourself exactly 3 days to do a very complex project, equal to the most complex project you've done in school (or at work, if school is a distant memory). Science geeks might want to avoid the 'bench chemistry' on the kitchen table for safety's sake.
If you're nowhere near graduation, either too far in the future, or too long in the past, try it anyway. Challenges are good. Intellectual challenges are fun. At the end of the day, when the "new year" starts on Labor Day, you'll be ready for more challenges at work, and in life.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Seeking One Muse -- Or the 2 am ARRRRGH!!!
Imagine this. It's 2 am, you're about to run out of ideas, you're on deadline, and suddenly your inspiration takes a nap. Or creativity "takes a powder" as they used to say in the hard boiled detective stories.
Or, it's still 2 am, you are about to fall asleep where you sit and you're out of coffee, functioning on less than 2 functioning brain cells and you can't recall the real reason you're sitting there in the first place.
Could you need to meet a Muse?
How about this situation. You have a presentation to make and you are simply frightened out of your shoes at the prospect of standing in front of a group of people and speaking.
Maybe you're a performer. Maybe you've got stage fright. Or maybe you don't consider yourself a performer, but you know that when it comes time to open your mouth and explain why your ideas are the very best, your voice will suddenly disappear, you'll go mute, have a nervous breakdown, or simply melt into the carpeting from anxiety.
Need to meet a Muse now?
Fast forward from that 2 am session in front of the computer screen. It is now an entire hour after the presentation. You are vaguely, perhaps uncomfortably aware, that you agreed to do something by a certain date, and for the life of you, there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING, that informs you exactly what you just agreed to do.
Add to that, a firm belief that you don't have any memory defects. Or, if you have memory defects, you are certain you didn't have any problems in that department when the meeting started.
Well, the truth is, you need to Meet A Muse.
All of those situations, whether 2 am or 2 in the afternoon, before, during or after your project is presented, printed, published or performed, are times where you need a Muse. Not just the inspiration of the Muse, but the calming, productive functioning Muse.
Most broadly, these are all situations of stage fright. You don't need to be a musician, dancer, actor or performer to have performance anxiety. The Muse can help you.
Stage fright is a blessing and a curse. Whether your performance is on paper, on the phone, via video feed or before small or large groups, stage fright is that paralyzing feeling that it is all going wrong, or will go wrong no matter what you do.
The solution? Check in with your personal Muse. If you don't already know your Muse, consider this. A Muse is not just inspiration. A Muse keeps you on track, mind and memory fully functioning, with ideas (and the right words) clicking in when you need and want them.
But first, the Muse must come to life. You can't meet a lifeless or comatose Muse.
Well, you can, but the conversation is going to be terribly one sided and of little help in the long run.
Bring your Muse to life. Meet YOUR Muse. Life in the world of humans means having a pulse. Pulse-less is lifeless. Pulse-less is dead on arrival. There are many ways to find the pulse in your Muse, none of which involve locating a pulsing carotid artery.
A pulse means rhythm. Rhythm means pulse. Every thing you do has a rhythm. Breathing, speaking, walking, talking, thinking, writing, dancing...everything you do has a rhythm.
So check into the first rhythm you can find and hang on for the ride.
Your project has a title. That title has a pulse. Repeat it to get the flow. Maybe the words of your topic really don't have a flow or pulse. Maybe you're not making sense of things because there is no rhythm, no pulse, no pacing to the words of the title. That's right. The title.
Is there any possibility of music to go with your words? Well, scratch around a bit, and see if you can find some rhythm, any rhythm. This is rough draft time, don't worry if you've got it all right.
Then, walk around the room a bit, moving to your ribbon of rhythmic words. Before you write, find the pulse of the idea, a flow of words before they hit the page. If you're performing music, find the pulse in the opening phrase. If you're speaking, find a rhythm for the first paragraph.
That's it. That's the beginning. Waken the Muse with the pulse.
Find rhythm in the words. If there is no rhythm to the words, find words that have rhythm. Put a pause in if that does the trick. You're on your way. You are beginning to waken the Muse so that you can have a conversation (which also has rhythm, BTW.)
Tomorrow, more hints for meeting your Muse. And a discussion or two about the message of the Muse.
Or, it's still 2 am, you are about to fall asleep where you sit and you're out of coffee, functioning on less than 2 functioning brain cells and you can't recall the real reason you're sitting there in the first place.
Could you need to meet a Muse?
How about this situation. You have a presentation to make and you are simply frightened out of your shoes at the prospect of standing in front of a group of people and speaking.
Maybe you're a performer. Maybe you've got stage fright. Or maybe you don't consider yourself a performer, but you know that when it comes time to open your mouth and explain why your ideas are the very best, your voice will suddenly disappear, you'll go mute, have a nervous breakdown, or simply melt into the carpeting from anxiety.
Need to meet a Muse now?
Fast forward from that 2 am session in front of the computer screen. It is now an entire hour after the presentation. You are vaguely, perhaps uncomfortably aware, that you agreed to do something by a certain date, and for the life of you, there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING, that informs you exactly what you just agreed to do.
Add to that, a firm belief that you don't have any memory defects. Or, if you have memory defects, you are certain you didn't have any problems in that department when the meeting started.
Well, the truth is, you need to Meet A Muse.
All of those situations, whether 2 am or 2 in the afternoon, before, during or after your project is presented, printed, published or performed, are times where you need a Muse. Not just the inspiration of the Muse, but the calming, productive functioning Muse.
Most broadly, these are all situations of stage fright. You don't need to be a musician, dancer, actor or performer to have performance anxiety. The Muse can help you.
Stage fright is a blessing and a curse. Whether your performance is on paper, on the phone, via video feed or before small or large groups, stage fright is that paralyzing feeling that it is all going wrong, or will go wrong no matter what you do.
The solution? Check in with your personal Muse. If you don't already know your Muse, consider this. A Muse is not just inspiration. A Muse keeps you on track, mind and memory fully functioning, with ideas (and the right words) clicking in when you need and want them.
But first, the Muse must come to life. You can't meet a lifeless or comatose Muse.
Well, you can, but the conversation is going to be terribly one sided and of little help in the long run.
Bring your Muse to life. Meet YOUR Muse. Life in the world of humans means having a pulse. Pulse-less is lifeless. Pulse-less is dead on arrival. There are many ways to find the pulse in your Muse, none of which involve locating a pulsing carotid artery.
A pulse means rhythm. Rhythm means pulse. Every thing you do has a rhythm. Breathing, speaking, walking, talking, thinking, writing, dancing...everything you do has a rhythm.
So check into the first rhythm you can find and hang on for the ride.
Your project has a title. That title has a pulse. Repeat it to get the flow. Maybe the words of your topic really don't have a flow or pulse. Maybe you're not making sense of things because there is no rhythm, no pulse, no pacing to the words of the title. That's right. The title.
Is there any possibility of music to go with your words? Well, scratch around a bit, and see if you can find some rhythm, any rhythm. This is rough draft time, don't worry if you've got it all right.
Then, walk around the room a bit, moving to your ribbon of rhythmic words. Before you write, find the pulse of the idea, a flow of words before they hit the page. If you're performing music, find the pulse in the opening phrase. If you're speaking, find a rhythm for the first paragraph.
That's it. That's the beginning. Waken the Muse with the pulse.
Find rhythm in the words. If there is no rhythm to the words, find words that have rhythm. Put a pause in if that does the trick. You're on your way. You are beginning to waken the Muse so that you can have a conversation (which also has rhythm, BTW.)
Tomorrow, more hints for meeting your Muse. And a discussion or two about the message of the Muse.
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