I pledge allegiance ...

These are the opening words of a statement than every American school child was expected to render each and every day of school at one time. It probably persists today, but I don't know, for I'm not there. What I do know, however, is that more than just a few friends of mine bring it up again and again (on Facebook, for example) and there is a strong feeling that it's not being pushed hard enough.

It is, therefore, time to take a look at this pledge and ask ourselves just what is being said, and, in addition, whether we should be pledging it at all.

Note bene: for my non-American readers, this is an exercise in examining something Americans think is important. Consider it a lesson in cultural studies, or Landeskunde, as my German friends would say. In the next post, I'll take another look at it from a broader, more inclusive perspective.

The pledge, as originally written, is as follows:

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation [under God] indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

First of all, a flag is a piece of cloth, in most cases, and it is, at best, a physical representation of an idea or an ideal. It doesn't matter which. What we find, first and foremost, however, is an oath to a mere piece of matter which has been, somehow, in some inexplicable way, be endowed with almost religious significance. Immediately, though, we are informed that the same degree of devotion, of submission, is to the republic that the flag is meant to symbolize, namely the USA. This entity is then described as a singular, united, unified "nation", which as of 1954 by legislative decree is imbued with divine oversight, that ascribes to and practices "liberty" (freedom in a political sense) and "justice" (equal treatment before the law) for all.

It's a nice sentiment, but is it applicable? When the pledge is expressed, it's a matter of "talking the talk". But, putting it into practice would be a matter of "walking the walk". But that's a topic for next time.

No, at the moment the question that is plaguing me, is how so many people who either believe or would like to believe that the United States was founded on sound, Christian principles, reconcile this pledge with their beliefs. Think about it:

1. There are numerous places in the Bible, especially the New Testament, that strongly indicate one shouldn't be swearing oaths.
2. While it is on the surface, at least, a pledge, it certainly sounds like an "oath", especially when you consider what the law proscribes for desecrating the symbol, let alone the "republic for which it stands".
3. The discrepancy between what it describes ("liberty and justice for all") and what is reality (one of the greatest disparities between rich and poor, the inordinate number of people of color who receive harsher punishments, even for lesser crimes, the repeated attempts to modify, say, voting laws to discriminate against those same people of color, the drastic differences in adjudication between "those well off" and others (e.g., "affluenza")

I have to wonder about how people get these things together in their minds. For the moment, I think it's enough for you to think about.

Yes, this is the pledge that many, many Americans hold to be sacrosanct, but before we even look at it in a critical way, questions present themselves that every one of us should be required to think about seriously.

Are you shaking in your shoes yet?

It will not come as a surprise to any of you that I'm not the world's convinced optimist. Oh sure, things for most of us generally work out, not because we did anything in particular and certainly not because we deserved it. Most of us live in a lucky part of the world and hence most of us are luckier than most others.

This does not mean that I'm therefore and invariably a pessimist. Sure, there are aspects of pessimism that agree with me, but I, like Ben Franklin, am more pessimist out of self-protection than conviction.

And, yes, there have been any number of people who have "accused" me of cynicism ... but I ask why cynicism should have anything crime-like about it. George Bernard Shaw noted, "The power of accurate observation is commonly called cynicism by those who have not got it." After all, when I'm in cynical mode, it turns out I'm more often right than I would like.

Recently, I read two good essays (both of which are much longer than everyday, internet-attention spans) by Henry A. Giroux and the other by Peter Koenig, both authors for whom I have a lot of respect. They weren't happy essays. They were well-reasoned, insightful, and thought-provoking. Giroux's was more about America; Koenig's more about Europe, but they had something in common: hope.

Giroux ended his essay with the line, ""Dark times are not ahead, they are here but that does not mean they are here to stay." Koenig wrote, "Rather than fearfully shutting up – wake up! Dare stand up fellow citizen – against the white collar onslaught of fraud and exploitation, against corruption of our elitist neoliberal system! Get rid of those deceiving politicians – the scum of greed and power. Expose them. Neutralize them." In other words, they both think that we can turn this game around.

Naturally, I'm not so sure, but I would like to think they're right. The problem as I see it is that too many of us don't take the time to get truly informed, won't make the effort to sort through the issues and facts, will fall back on our innate fear of power and violence, and will jump upon any excuse we can find why it's "not our job" to do anything about anything.

You know, the only reason it appears to be getting dark out there is because we allow it to happen.

The terror of the darkness

We have every right to be afraid ... day in and day out. If the climate doesn't do us in, it could be a military catastrophe when the "wrong people" get hold of weapons of mass destruction, or it could be the "right" people who already have them and are itching for a fight. It could be some natural disaster, and we seem to be getting more of them, in all sizes, shapes, colors and what at least feels like subjective frequencies.

And, if there isn't the big global cataclysmic apocalypse, there's always a new epidemic, an antibiotic-resistant strain of virus, a mass shooting, a slip of the tongue or wrong answer after being stopped by a cop, another armed whacko who decided enough's enough, or lawmakers who think the rest of us have it too good as it is and start taking away what little most of us have left. Yes, we have every reason to be afraid ... day in and day out.

And, let's be realistic. No, let's be honest with each other: most of us live our lives in a state of repressed terror. Oh, sure, we act like we've got thing under control. We act like we have the (or at least some of the) answers. But, deep down, especially at night, when the lights are off and we can't sleep, we're well aware of our terror of the darkness that surrounds us.

Quite recently, I read something that describes this perfectly:

We are, we believe, seeing some long-standing fractures and psychological tensions within [life's] sphere coming to a head: ‘Old certainties’, old landmarks, familiarities, longstanding ways of being – all are eroding, leaving people bewildered and angry – and ready to lash out (at the world because they feel it is no longer what they know and want it to be). The ‘world around them’ is perceived as ‘doing this to them’ (destroying their handholds in life which kept them psychologically secure). It – all of it – as it were, has become ‘their enemy’.

We feel threatened from all sides, regardless of our political and religious beliefs: black lives mattering, gay rights, abortions, financial bailouts and coup d'etats, terrorism, radicals of all kinds, the absence of G-d in government, an economic system gone haywire, illegal immigrants, tax give-aways for the rich and for corporations, intrusive government action, disrespect of authority, and the list goes on and on and on and on, and each of these items is, of course, an "enemy" to someone.

What fascinates me most about the situation, the threats, the list, is that it is all of our own making. Yes, dear reader, you and I and everyone else is responsible for how things are and why there are so many enemies "out to get us". They are all demons of our own creation, and they make the darkness upon which they thrive.

Dark days are upon us

Dark days are upon us.

The heartless command, our attention at the very least. It may be a
madman with an Arabic name; it could be a finance minister whose
madness won't allow him to admit he is wrong.

Our minds are not being molded, they are being violated, bludgeoned,
abused, every bit as debilitating as any comparable physical abuse, but
as Stockholm taught us, it is possible to love one's abusers. It's not
mentally healthy, but it is a survival strategy.

Democracy hasn't been taken from us. You can't lose what you never
had. What has been taken from us, though, is our democratic ideals and
beliefs. In the United States, money talks; it's speech is free. Here in
Europe, we politicize instead - it's so much more sophisticated - and we
simply deny sovereign states their sovereignty. Both methods are
employed in the name of "unity", but we're not one, nor of one mind, nor
should we be, but we will be made to be alike.

It's not the silence of the masses that frightens me. What does
frighten me is the moment of their awakening to the realization that
they have been lied to, manipulated, and extorted. No, right now, what
makes me so uneasy is the silence of those who should know better.
Perhaps they have been bought; perhaps they have been intimidated;
perhaps they have simply lost hope. It doesn't really matter when the
results are the same.

The paternalization of society, not just here in the West, and
misguided feminism (only in the West) have made everyone just a bit more
manly: we're so easily distracted by shiny, glittering, but ultimately
worthless little things. We can argue for days about meaningless,
trivial, irrelevant details, yet we won't admit, neither to ourselves
nor to others, that there's a real problem that needs to be solved.
We're in crisis mode all the time. Men are, as you know, always in
crisis mode.

Dark days are upon us. And, they will not find the light as long as
we can be distracted, frightened, threatened, intimidated and bullied
into thinking that different is dangerous, that otherness is
ostracizing, and that only each of us can save him- or herself.

A seeker's confession

There is a certain type of individual who simply keeps me in awe: a person who claims to know what they know and believe. I'm not that kind of person. Regardless of how much I think I might know, regardless of how much I might learn or want to learn, regardless of how much insight I think I might have gained over the years, I'm always in doubt. Or, as Bertrand Russell put it, "The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt."

Don't get me wrong: I'm not calling most people stupid, if if they are. It does strike me, however, that there are a lot of cocksure people in the world, and as far as I can tell, they've not got a clue what's going on. But that's a whole different matter, and for another time.

I have to admit as well that I have had few "heroes" in my life: individuals to whom I have looked up or whom I have admired, even from afar, but there is one who sticks out who raised himself above all others: Socrates. Why? Well, there are two reasons. First, because he's the one who first told us, "The only thing I know for sure is that I know nothing." Wise words, to be sure, and humble words, anything-but-arrogant words. Second, the only approach he took toward dealing with anything was by asking questions. When it came to questions, here was, without a doubt, the Master of Masters at work.

I am fully aware that other folks' heroes are doers of great deeds -- or at least perceived-to-be great deeds: generals, conquerors, founders of great religions, diplomats, intellectuals, whatever. The history of humankind is replete with examples of feats of strength, might, power, violence, murder, and blood. For me, though, the hero of heroes was an ugly guy with a shrew of a wife who asked a lot of questions that eventually got him executed. Why? Socrates was a seeker?

Seekers have fallen into disrepute in our day and age. We prefer those who know to those who wonder; we prefer those who speak to those who ask; we prefer those who are strong to those who are smart; we prefer -- let's be honest -- arrogance to humility. That's too bad, really, but seekers have always known that what the world wants/likes/honors/reveres, is very different from what it really needs.

Regardless, and nevertheless, it is becoming ever more clear that we are dying by our own hand; that what we think (want?) to know is false; that things/possessions/money can't bring us either happiness or salvation; that what one has is no match for what one can be; that all that bothers, troubles, and threatens us in the world is of our own making. Pogo was right, "We have met the enemy, and he is us." Whatever.

There is Truth and there are truths out there, and I refuse to stop looking for either.

Simple wisdom

There's an old Zen saying: "Those who speak do not know; those who know, do not speak."

I stumbled across that one many, many moons ago, and I can assure you it's every bit as true now as it was then. We've got more than our share of purveyors of "truth" (or what they believe to be true or whatever), but, let's face it, most people talking have very little to say.

And, before you get the wrong impression, I'm one of those talking. I know that, and at a literal level, one could maintain that I have no idea what I'm talking about. However ... there is a difference between speaking and "speaking". Regardless of what my detractors might think, I don't claim to know what's what or what we should or should not think or believe or not believe. I don't think, believe, or even feel, that I have all the answers. Hell, I'm not even claiming that I have any answers. My "job", if that's how anyone might like to see it, is simply "to draw your attention to". No more, no less.

It's impossible for me to tell you what's right, wrong, good, bad, worthwhile or not worth even thinking about. That's something that each of us has to decide for him or herself. And that's what you need to do. You have to decide what you want to believe or what you actually believe. You have to decide what is fact and what is fiction. You need to discern and differentiate between what is real and what is illusion, what has substance and what does not.

All I want to do is nothing more than perhaps make you aware of something that you might have not thought about before. I'm not telling you what "is", I'm merely pointing out that this, that, or the other might not be exactly how you thought it might be, that not everything you're being told is being conveyed with good intentions, that a small dose of skepticism is very often very much in order, that just because something feels right doesn't mean it is right.

A buddy of mine once told me that the reason we have to learn from others' mistakes is because we don't have time to make them all ourselves. He was right. The flip side of that coin is that we need to listen to and learn from others because we don't have time to find out everything for ourselves either. When we're all sincere about pointing out and sharing, about communicating, we can all benefit. True, there are those who would abuse this process for their own advantage. We all know that as well and for that reason it is important that, well, we keep a bit of a skeptical attitude until we can corroborate, confirm or, when necessary, deny what we're hearing.

It's really not a difficult nor dangerous nor risky undertaking. It means taking things perhaps a bit more slowly, perhaps stopping to think from time to time, and maybe evening thinking first and believing later.

So, while I may be "speaking", in a sense, I'm not laying claim to knowing. Sure, I want to know, but first I've got to figure it all out.

Columbus Day, again

To be perfectly honest, I find a holiday like Columbus Day shameful.

Oh, I have nothing against holidays. In fact, if it were up to me, there would be at least one holiday per month, without exception, and I would have no qualms about finding rather innocuous reasons for having them. In March, we should all be able to celebrate the Vernal Equinox, if nothing else. In August, we should simply have a Holiday of Holidays, if nothing else. Yes, every month deserves to have a holiday, and not one of those wimpy floating ones, but a real Monday holiday as it should be.

Of course, if we're going to take this approach, I would insist that each month have a holiday that is meaningful and mostly -- and I emphasize, mostly -- inoffensive to the population. You see, we could declare, say, St. Patrick's Day as a national holiday, but that would be partial to the Irish. We could have a religious holiday in August, but this would be disrespecting of non-Christians. I'm sure, though, that it wouldn't take long to find a Monday that was acceptable to everyone. After all, we only need to have a will to have a way.

Columbus Day, in all due respect, is not one of thoses days. Yes, I know that his intentions were honorable, that he merely wanted to find an alternative to the status quo of his day, but the way he went about it and the results of his personal policies made live more than difficult for millions of people, and we're talking about millions of people who never had and no longer have a voice in their own demise.

Yes, Columbus Day honors the overtaking of different cultures for no other reason than one believed that one's own culture was the best the world had to offer combined with the arrogance of believing that white, Western Europeans were in a better position to decide what was good for the world than any other peoples are the face of the earth.

In the meantime, we've come to realize that Columbus really didn't get it right, that he didn't understand the world with which he was confronted, and that he represented a way of thinking that derided and suppressed any way of understanding the world that didn't conform to their own.

No,I don't believe there were any evil intentions. No, I believe that Columbus and his crew's intentions were good. But, at the same time, I believe that they simply failed to recognize that those who were already here deserved to be treated with the same respect as any other human being on the planet.

Unfortunately, we didn't get it then, and it's quite obvious we don't get it even now. We may never learn, even if I hope that I'm wrong.

The case of the unfulfilled dream

When I was coming-of-age, the Civil Rights movement was in full swing. People were in the streets protesting the war in Vietnam. Flower children were spreading a doctrine of peace and love. I, like many of my generation, had great hopes that the world would become a better place and that we'd be able to leave that better world to our children. We couldn't have been more wrong.

A forced stint in the military, rampant inflation, a delusional turning back of the clock, a celebration of greed, a misunderstood collapse of an "enemy", and one crueler war than the previous one have taken their toll. Since that time, it's been a small step forward and a big step back, and it would seem we're picking up the pace as well.

Wages for normal, working people have stagnated, inflation has been brought under nefarious control, many of the social programs instituted back then are being dismantled, there's been a massive increase in the number of refugees on the move, more people are dying of hunger every year, income equality has become obscene, the environment is polluted, the planet it getting hotter faster than we can do anything about it, but it's harder and harder to find anyone who really cares.

Oh sure, I have to answer to my kids -- and rightfully so -- since they're all of age and I taught them to speak their minds and ask uncomfortable questions. I believe I got at least that much right. What troubles me more, however, are their children, and those of my own siblings and their kids just making their dramatic, but welcome entry onto the world stage. What about them? I envisioned them then; I know them now. And there are days I simply hang my head in shame.

While I've never been a top-echelon optimist, I've always (most often, secretly) been a hopeful person. It wasn't solely up to me whether "things" turned out or didn't, but I have to ask myself nevertheless whether there was anything I could have done better, harder, more determinedly, more effectively to have possibly made those coming-of-age dreams come true. I've come to the conclusion that there were lots and lots of things I could have done but didn't. But I've also come to recognize that far too many of my one-time compatriots -- brothers- and sisters-in-arms, as we liked to style ourselves then -- simply gave up.

When I see them and hear from them these days, it becomes clear how helpless they feel, how hopeless they've become, how defeated they are inside, and they do everything to prevent that anyone see that. Oh sure, some of them -- and not an insignificant number, I might add -- went over to what we might call the "dark side". They're still my friends and acquaintances. After all, "there, but for the Grace of G-d go I". And it saddens me all the more.

What I miss most of all about those halcyon days of light and hope is the feeling of sharing, of camaraderie, of shared hope, of shared faith, of being-in-it-together. How did Thoreau put it? "Things don't change, we change." He's got a point, I'll admit, but it's only a partial one.

The dream was real. The implementation left a whole lot to be desired. We were many then, and now we're few. And even though that dream remains unfulfilled, it was the right dream to have -- then, and now.

Standing up for what is right

Before anyone gets the wrong impression (again), I would like to point out that everyone is free to believe what they want. I don't really care ... as long as it doesn't affect me, or anyone I know, or, well, anyone else. You see, beliefs are all well and good when taken for themselves, but problems arise when our own beliefs start interfering with others' beliefs.

What too few people have are beliefs that can stand up against others' beliefs. Kim Davis wasn't any more a representative of "religious freedom" than the Pope, who met with her, is a representative of Christians everywhere. The Westboro Baptist Church is no more representative of Christianity than the IS is representative of Christianity. The chicken hawks advocating bombing Assad into the Stone Age are not more representative of a reasonable Middle East policy than are the dumb-down doves are representative of the position that Russia will bring peace to the region. No, everybody has a stake in the game, and, by definition, everybody is spinning the tale to make themselves look good.

Truth be told, what I find most amazing in all of this is the fact that facts, actual verifiable and documentable happenings, statements, and signed agreements mean absolutely nothing at all. What matters is what one side wants you to believe, how one side is interested in having you believe a certain way, and how what is must invariably yield to what others want.

Everyone involved in the current "crisis" is a jerk (I would say "asshole", but I'm trying to remain at least implicitly impartial); everyone has an agenda; everyone has a definable interest, but none of the players have the least concern for the everyday people involved.

The entire Middle East is underlaid with oil and that's what we -- and probably everyone else wants. Whether the people sitting on this resource are democratically inclined or subject to brutal dictatorial oppression is irrelevant. What WE -- the USA, or the Russian Federation, or the EU, or whomever -- want is all that matters. The cost, the consequences, the collateral damage, the ... makes absolutely no difference at all.

The so-called fact of the matter make no difference at all. What matters, in the end, is what any given country with any given interest believes is their "right" to act as they deem appropriate given the current situation and compilation of power.

The human suffering, the human casualties, matter not at all. Somehow national interests and national pride are more important than anything that may happen to any given individual or population. How proud we must be. We define the world. We define what is right and what is wrong. And in the end, we are always right. Oh, how proud we must be.

The case of mistaken identity

We need to get a couple of things straight.

In the world in which I live there are religious, not-so-religious, and non-religious people. There are those who abhor the label "religious" and prefer to refer to themselves as "spiritual", which I accept, and there are also non-spiritual people as well. In the world in which I live, there are capitalists, free-market advocates (if not, devotees), socialists, anarchists, humanists, and just about every other kind of "-ist" you can imagine. Some people are fervent in what they believe and advocate and others are lukewarm. Hell, I even know quite a few individuals who could give a care one way or the other about anything. There is, in other words, a merry, colorful patchwork of thoughts, ideas, ideologies, views, Weltanschauungen, feelings and desires that make up the world in which I live. And I would have it no other way.

Having said that, I am, above all else, prior to anything else, deep down inside, at heart, a human being who loves my fellow human beings, all of us as imperfect as we are. My most fundamental belief (which I believe, with a little bit of effort, I could "prove") is that all of us human beings have much more in common that what makes us different. At least that which we have in common, makes us human. Everything else is, well, irrelevant details.

It is against this backdrop that I look out into the world and react to whatever comes my way. These days, there are so many different "things" that people believe and hold to be true that I have trouble following them. What is more, I am (literally, and honestly) shocked at how much how many people are willing to invest in what they "believe". (I put that last word in quotation marks intentionally. There is very little in this world that we actually know, but there is one helluva lot in it that we believe.)

There are so many people who believe that what they believe is right. That's fine as far as it goes, but in that moment when you encounter another who may not, who most likely does not, believe (and "know") what you believe, well, you have to decide whether you are willing to engage this person or not. I say, let's explore; let's exchange ideas, thoughts, notions, beliefs; let's talk about, discuss and, if necessary, debate, those things; let's understand why you believe the world is one way and I believe it's another. Why? For the simple reason that my experience has shown me that given half a chance, I can learn something that I didn't know before, that I can grow in some way that I had never even imagined, that I might become, given the right set of circumstances, a better person -- and we might even (hopefully) agree on what "better" means in this context.

But, I will be honest, I'm having trouble finding anyone who is willing to engage.

What I -- and so many others, I am sure -- am left with is a whole bunch of know-it-alls, people who think they know what's what. Unfortunately, they don't. They only think they know, but they are damn sure about it nevertheless. Too bad. There's a world of difference between knowing and believing and those yacking the loudest don't know there's a difference at all.