simple. one sentence.

It is not simple to describe the "simple" life.

more fairness - more ponzi

I'm feeling a little tetchy.

I live in Maryland, where the estimate is that we will be having to spend some 11 million dollars as a result of the upcoming inauguration.

It appears now that our governor is asking that we not use the major road - the beltway - during that time.

Right.

Fairness at work. We pay for others. Fine, but who pays for me? That's where it always seems to break down.

Kind of like a pyramid scheme, you know? Which is pretty much the same thing as a Ponzi Scheme, which we keep hearing about on account of the arrest of Bernard Madoff, who is alleged to have caused a "loss" of some 50 BILLION dollars to his "investors".

Chump change, compared to the numbers contemplated by the various bailouts being tossed about by "Our Government".

When you stop to think about it, this is a Ponzi Scheme taken to new heights, in that we are not even "investing" money we have at this point. We're being set up to lose money we've borrowed. Who we're borrowing from is a little less certain, as is who will be paying it back. It's all magic. It's all about grabbing what you can, when you can. Sort of like Ireland, which used E.U. subsidies to build its infrastructure (leading to its "Celtic Tiger" booming economy) but which is a recent hold-out on ratifying an E.U. Constitution finalizing the formal relationship. It has also announced that it is opting out of a proposed 200 Billion euro European Union "Recovery Plan."

That's the problem with Ponzi schemes. The minute the have-nots become overnight haves, they stop wanting to give to have-nots. They "opt out." I am not being given that opportunity. Neither, however, have I been handed subsidies. What's wrong with this picture?

Interesting article in the Wall Street Journal Op-Ed pages, by the way: "Atlas Shrugged": From Fact to Fiction in 52 Years.

Our lotto mentality has come home to roost. Nothing will change until we start working again. Hard work. For a long time. No more get-rich-quick schemes or overnight fixes.

Meanwhile, I think I'll take the beginning of next week off. And to preserve any semblance of a positive outlook, I think I'll also keep the television switched off. I've had about all the hope I can stand.

simple essentials

Setting limitations forces you to choose the essential. So in everything you do, learn to set limitations.

Choose the essential to create great impact with minimal resources. (i.e.: maximize your time and energy.)

Finally: all that simplifying isn’t meant to leave your life empty, it’s meant to leave space in your life for what you really want to do.
**********************
from Leo Babauta's The Power of Less, by way of the unclutterer dot com
**********************
My problem? I always feel this incredible urge to make sure I've "covered all the bases". It's a failing.

another one-liner

A one-sentence journal requires one sentence daily.

the "ethics" of lying

In Oceanside, CA, the school district has attempted to scare their students straight by lying to them, telling them that several classmates were killed in an alcohol-related car accident.

I don't know who came up with this - ah - idea, which was embraced by the school board, and carried out by the highway patrol, if you can imagine that. The plan was to get the emotional reaction - shock, grief, loss, etc. - and then clear it all up in an assembly later in the day.

Here's what guidance counselor Lori Tauber was quoted as saying: ""They were traumatized, but we wanted them to be traumatized. That's how they get the message."

Well, they got an emotional reaction, thanks to the lie. Perhaps you can imagine the reaction thereafter, however, when the students found out that it was a hoax?

No one likes to be manipulated. Even in the pursuit of a "greater good."

I think the "adults" mixed up their ends and means, and they weren't even forced to do so. There's an ethical dilemma when the S.S. asks whether you're helping to hide Jews - and you struggle with whether or not it's ok to lie in that instance. That's the Kantian extreme of not lying - no matter WHAT - which so many people reject. This wasn't even close. This is lying for expediency, for effect, to "make a point." This is lying as an acceptable tool in argumentation - so long as it "works".

How will the school officials react when the students lie - and cheat on their next exam, say - for expediency? For effect? To make a point? Surely a good grade - even a passing grade - is worth a little lie. . . in the eyes of a high school student who has just learned that all the school officials, the PTA, and even the State police will lie if the stakes are supposedly high enough. I imagine that this graduating class could also come up with any number of other "good ends" to which lying would ease the path, now that they've seen how this works.

Way to go.

Class dismissed.

seeing lessons

Too often I would hear men boast of the miles covered that day, rarely of what they had seen.

Louis L'Amour, novelist (1908-1988)

Man for All Seasons

Last night, we watched A Man for all Seasons. Great movie; I really enjoyed it.

I was particularly taken by words attributed to Sir Thomas More, as he explained to his daughter, Meg, why he could not take the oath required by the Act of Succession, intended to establish Anne Bolyn as Henry VIII's legitimate wife and queen of England.

In the movie, More's daughter has come to the Tower of London to attempt to convince her father to take the oath and save himself. Meg speaking first:

"God more regards the thoughts of the heart than the words of the mouth." Well, so you've always told me.

Yes.

Then say the words of the oath and in your heart think otherwise.

What is an oath then, but words we say to God? Listen, Meg. When a man takes an oath, he's holding his own self in his own hands...

...like water.

And if he opens his fingers then, he needn't hope to find himself again.

Some men aren't capable of this, but I'd be loath to think your father one of them.

This morning's quote of the day settled into my subconcious:

A child's education should begin at least one hundred years before he is born.
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., US Supreme Court Justice (1841-1935)

Good idea. And interesting, because of course I dealt with Holmes and some questions of American pragmatism in my dissertation. Nice to know that Holmes appears to have some degree of a sense of proper historical perspective: at least an historical perspective that goes back 100 years.

Looking for a picture to illustrate my lovely post about conscience and truth and being true to oneself a la Sir Thomas More, I came across this Teach With Movies site, which notes that the movie (although a good one to teach with) is based on the inaccurate theme that More sacrificed his life in the cause of individual adherence to his own conscience. 'Not so', these educators claim. In fact, "Sir Thomas More would have thought the view of conscience described in the film to be radical and subversive." Instead, they claim that More "sacrificed his life for the medieval view of conscience, one that was not independent of others, but which derived its legitimacy from his community and the tradition to which he subscribed."

OK then!

More research clearly needed.

Further research showed that More apparently did not quibble about the consciences of others, insofar as he was involved in the death sentences of several Lutheran dissenters. . . .

In addition, unlike the movie, it was apparently not the adhering to a religious view of marriage (and not allowing for divorce) that prompted More to refuse the oath, rather, it was the attack on the primacy of the Pope as head of church. Earlier, More had apparently gone along with King Henry's desire to put aside Catherine of Aragon, but drew the line when the Pope refused to annul the marriage.

I should have known better.

I should have remembered Emanuel Kant, because for all that Kant is difficult to read and notoriously difficult to understand (let alone knowingly apply) one thing I know he did stand for is the inviolacy of individual motivation and thought - in short: conscience.

My mistake was not to situate More within the proper historical time line. Before Kant. And you know what? Holmes' hundred-year historical perspective would not have helped me. Sir Thomas More's life was 1478-1535; Kant was 1724-1804. That's over a 250 year time differential between More and Kant; it's 200 years from Kant to us.

It is almost impossible for us - now - to imagine the adherence to traditional and community-based ideas of legitimacy and authority which would have shaped and guided Sir Thomas More. We may even have reached a time when it is almost impossible for us to imagine the adherence to an inviolate personal conviction ushered in by the thought of Emanuel Kant, and portrayed so attractively and movingly in A Man for all Seasons.

After all, this is the age of the politically-expedient, when the "public" life can be separated out from a so-called "private" life, and lies about sex with interns can be compared to supposed truth or lies about what was known about "weapons of mass destruction" in Iraq, voting records in Congress, or the use of steroids in professional sports.


Conscience? We live in the age of the expedient. Duty? We measure that these days by what is "legal". I don't know that anyone really expects the truth anymore. Certainly no one expects to suffer for it.

Can you point out just one?

Maybe I'm starting the day on a bit of a pessimistic bent, and have overlooked our modern-day truth warriors. How I hope so!

Meanwhile, I'll cling to the ideal that the movie brought up again: the incomparable value and beauty of truth and the character that is committed to it.

Sigh. . . . I can't help but wonder if this particular depiction of the ideal is tainted by its own falseness to the historical person of Sir Thomas More?

Sometimes maybe I do think a bit too much.

neutrality and oppression - the relationship

The answer to those in Ireland who are so proud of their "neutrality" and view it - somehow - as ever-so-superior to those who are not neutral. . . .

Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

Elie Wiesel, writer, Nobel laureate (b.1928)

You remember Elie Wiesel, don't you? The Holocaust survivor who's written so powerfully about it.

But then the current "neutral" anti-war people seem to be supporting people who maybe don't think much about the Holocaust.

truth, error, and popular opinion

An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does the truth become error because nobody will see it.

Mohandas K. Gandhi (1869-1948)

In other words, truth is not subject to democratic vote. Or 'spin'. Interesting.

"seven, eight - lay 'em straight. . . ."

Thought for the day:

Fall down seven times, get up eight.

Dōgen

whadja expect?

Inexplicably, Jesus' question comes to mind:

What did you expect?

He asked it about John the Baptist and - more importantly - he asked it of people who went out into the desert to see him.

"What did you go out into the desert to see?"

I ask it this morning about those who come - or don't come - to see me.

Funny. I get lonely. I want people to come and talk to me here. They don't normally. But that's ok too. I confess, though, that I think about what might draw people here. . . . Funny stuff. Provocative stuff. The Buzzzzzz. . . . . Being "in". Knowing the lingo and what you're supposed to do - or say.

Or not say.

What you can confess to feeling, and what is just too outre to even mention, let alone own up to.

I think I get it wrong on just about every count.

This morning, I checked out the biblical reference that had come to mind above - it's in Matthew, 11th chapter, verse 7 (and following). The interesting thing to me, was that I hadn't remembered that Jesus asked people who had gone into the desert to see this guy. It's different, isn't it, when you get a guy like John (kind of a wierdo, by all accounts, at least with respect to clothing and dietary habits) coming out of the desert and showing up at the local mall. But that's not what happened. They went to him, in his solitude; his 'desert' - or eremos in the Greek. A "lonely, desolate, uninhabited place" - when used of a place; "deserted by others, deprived of friends, kindred and acquaintences" - when used of a person.

I'm sorry I'm not more entertaining. . . .


I am eremos.

Perhaps it is a necessary condition for propheting.

imaginary friends

I used to sing a cappella. Maybe I will again. Post-dissertation.

My singing mates at the time heard a lot about my "best" friend, M. They never saw her, though. One day one of the guys said: "I don't think M even exists. I think she's your imaginary friend" and he started talking with his index finger wiggling up and down next to his face, as if that were M - my imaginary friend.

They had a great time with M, my imaginary friend. Years later, one of the guys actually met M, and reported to the rest that she did - in fact - exist. Without face time, though, she was soon forgotten, and remained my imaginary friend, as far as the guys were concerned.

Funny thing: she eventually became more and more imaginary because we never saw each other. We didn't have the same interests. I didn't have to deal with it until I finally got married, when I had to decide whether to ask M - the official best friend - or C, the actual best friend to be my best maid.

Yesterday, online, there were several articles about how Facebook costs employers well over a hundred million dollars a day and the phenomenon of virtual friends - and whether they were real. Isn't it strange that we're right back where we started from in first grade? Wanting friends, and making them up, if necessary. I play my part here, posting my bit daily, and checking in on N, S, LA, C, J, M, A, V. . . and hoping to hear from them, too.

It's a way of coping, I guess. Still, I worry about the seduction of pseudo-relationships. They're a lot easier on my mind. After all, I'm in charge! Sort of. . . . But that's not how life goes. Certainly it's not how friendships go. Ah well. Back to Chapter 5.

Intermission over.

what I'm not watching

Non-Essential Equipment has posted a new Britney video and asks a reasonable question:

Why, with all the other things that are wrong with this performance, are people focusing on her belly 'flab' and the fact that she doesn't have the same body she did when she was 17?

Good question, N.e.e.

But first, I have a confession to make. After listing all the sensationalist stuff I don't like to see, I actually watched a clip of this "trainwreck" - I think they're calling it - before seeing it at Nee's place. . . . (I see now that I hadn't included drunken or drugged starlets on stage where they don't actually fall off, so that's a small comfort. Britney did not fall off the stage. . . .)

But back to the question. Why focus on her body as a target for critique instead of the other glaring embarrassments?

Hmmm. I realize that I'm on dangerous ground here. I approach the she's-asking-for-it rationale, and I am definitely not comfortable with that. But let's take a look at this. We have here a woman who - as Nee points out - has relatively recently given birth to two children. That'll change you!

She chose to "perform" in a sequined bikini. That'll expose you!

Presumably she has a mirror in her home. If not, surely she has "advisors". I therefore assume that she wore this outfit on purpose, hard as that might be for me to imagine. And as the "purpose" of the outfit appears to be to cover just what has to be covered, I think we might infer that she meant to expose the rest.

And it's the display of that "rest" that invites critique, commentary, and comparison. Sorry!

I do agree with Nee, though. Let's not just leave this at the 'no-longer-17' dismissal point. The fact of the matter is that maybe the most embarrassing part of this fiasco is that Britney doesn't seem to get it that she's no longer 17. Britney, honey, this is not attractive and you can't get away with acting like that any more because you're supposed to be a big girl now! This is not about belly flab or whether or not you're in shape, or even whether you're high, stoned, or lip-synching out of time. It's not even about the costume or whether or not you're 'out-of-it' because you've gotten older or had children.

Britney Spears is 'out-of-it' because she's out of it! I mean: I don't think there's anyone home. Maybe there never was anyone home, but we didn't notice because hey! she was 17 and so many thought she was cute - or hot - or whatever. Anyway, I don't know where she went - but she sure ain't there now and unless there's a person to see I'd rather not watch. It has nothing to do with how young or old she looks, or how much she works out. In a way, older women at home in their bodies are a whole lot more interesting as far as I'm concerned. But hey - they also don't usually appear on national television wearing sequined bikinis.

There's a reason for this.

this is dangerous

For a writer, nothing is more dangerous than: "You have another week to finish that _________[fill-in-the-blank for whatever it is]."

At least for this writer. Maybe there are other writers out there whose writing does not expand to fit the expanded timeframe. Maybe they actually finish early and go to the beach! Or get their nails done. . . .

Then again, maybe not.

This one doesn't. This one feels the lift of pressure and somehow finds a corresponding lack of words. A reduction in the pull of gravity to the chair in front of the table on which sits the computer and the feeling of: I. Can't. Sit. Here. Any. Longer. (and I have another whole week before the last chapter could even be read by my tutor - so la, la, la-la, la, la! maybe I'll go to the beach!)

Crap.

This will take some serious self-deception.

fall, food & fairies - NOT Dickinson

I liked this poem I found online, presaging the upcoming fall:

When I sound the fairy call,
gather here in silent meeting,
chin to knee on the orchard wall,
cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry, take a cherry,
mine are sounder, mine are rounder,
mine are sweeter for the eater,
when the dews fall, and you'll be fairies all.

It was attributed to Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) - the so-called 'New England Mystic.' Wrong.

When I looked to find the full citation - title - whatnot - I found it's not Emily Dickinson at all. It's Robert Graves. Yes, the same who wrote I, Claudius. He also wrote a book of poetry called Fairies and Fusiliers (1918) about his experiences in the war. WWI. The above is the last stanza to a poem entitled CHERRY-TIME.

It's amazing the difference it makes. Emily Dickinson's fairies, perched on a wall: sweet, innocent, whimsical. . . .

Or Robert Graves' phantoms of trench-fare: dark, threatening, silent. Tragic. . . . Scarey-sad.

the magic book

It's funny how words written so long ago can jump up and take on a whole new meaning and convey a personal message just to me.

My message today is:

The message stays the same.
The only difference is how it's received.
Some will hear it; some won't.

I find this reassuring. Somehow it's easy to forget that you can't please all of the people all of the time. I have a distressing pull toward the chameleon. It's hard to be a prophet when you care about what others think.

WAY too serious

It's hard not to be serious when you've got a deadline of a mountain by the end of the week and your dissertation topic involves not only law, but also philosophy and theology and uses words like deontology and teleology as major players in the thesis.

Words most people probably don't know - hell, I didn't know 'em till about 5 years ago! - and it took me a good 3 years before I didn't have to stop and think before being able to use either one of them with any degree of certainty. I still get insecure about it, sometimes.

CONFESSION: when a lawyer says "Objection, your Honor!" and the Judge says "Sustained." or even "Overruled." I still have to stop and figure out whether that means the witness can answer the question or the piece of evidence is admitted.

It's like double negatives. Sort of. "I didn't NOT write" still doesn't mean that I wrote. . . .

See what I mean?! WAY too serious. . . .

I have no sense of humour any more. I can't remember a single joke - ok, maybe one, but it's not funny - I do remember laughing almost to the point of tears with my husband this weekend, but it was over nothing and I think it was more just a release than anything else! Himself got to laughing because I was laughing and it fed on itself. That, and the random phrases thrown in that were either funny or hysterically not-funny.

"Why are you laughing?!" he. . . he. . . he. . . .

"I don't know - why are YOU laughing!!!" HEHEHEHE. . . .HE!

"That's so funny. . . . .!!!! You . . . . ha!. . . ha!. . . ha!. . . ."

Felt good.

For today - the mountain ignored yesterday is threatening to crash on me today. But maybe I can see the humour in waiting till the last week and a half now in which to think to wrap up a doctoral dissertation. And write two of the chapters?! And start a blog to blow off steam. And stay up half the night reading other blogs instead either working or getting some sleep.

Surely there's something funny in all that?

I didn't think so either.

the set up. . .

I realize I've set myself up with this talk of 'truth'. . . .

I feel obligated to tell it, now, having talked about 'croakings of a truthful nature'. This, even though there's no relational accountability - not yet, anyway.

I find this interesting. Even though no one knows who I am, I feel an obligation to tell the truth. ESPECIALLY since I SAID I was going to tell the truth. . . . What's THAT about? (I'll leave for another time ramblings about how anonymity affects relationship.)

A writer I like has been writing about a difficult relationship that seems to me to BE difficult because the two in the relationship have strayed into what I've been calling the 'unenforceable' in some of my writing and thinking. It's the area of the free gift - freely chosen; freely given. The moment you either expect it or demand it, it vanishes like one of the 'little people'. Giggling on its way. Maddening and sobering in the sudden absence of its magical presence. But you will search for it in vain. The only thing you can do is accept it when it is given. And it is never just offered. . . . It's always given, even if it is not accepted.

Paradoxical?

Yes. In a way, it's like truth. Truth is given - not imposed. The moment you interrogate it, cross-examine it, demand it or take it for granted (in the sense of 'expecting' it) it can flee - slip just out of your grasp, right between your fingers. You can't hold on to it or mold it, but you CAN always accept it when it offers itself.

That's the lesson here, I think: always to have open hands for the truth; always to have open hands for the 'unenforceable' free gift. Because the minute you stop accepting, so often you also stop giving, yourself. And when you're not giving, the inexorable law is still that you get what you give - so, "nothing", in that case. But neither is it cause and effect, here! You can't 'give to get'. Motivation counts, and you don't always 'get back' from the one you gave to. Add 'time' to the equation and you can see that we can't work the sum.

Why bother, then?

It's the 'set up', isn't it? I've tasted now of truth and the free gift. I can't live without it. But I can't enforce it. All I can do is give it. And then accept it - wherever it is offered.

Here's the truth for me, today: as fun as this is, I have work to do. Work that I've put off by all the known writing-avoidance techniques I've ever known or read about (and don't send me any more, please! grin. . . . ). But here's the truth for me, today:

"If you don't write, it won't get written."

Thank you. I'll take that.

Gotta go! (gotta write. . . .)