What if ...

• the world made sense;
• we actually cared about one another;
• we understood the stupidity of violence;
• "love thy neighbor" wasn't just something we say;
• money weren't power;
• the love of money weren't the root of all evil;
• respect had to be earned and deference was a result;
• both Newton and Einstein were right, in their own ways;
• we were aware of the actual impact of our own opinions;
• we could empathize;
• truth were relative, but Truth abolute;
• even half of us knew what we were actually saying when we speak;
• a minimum of effort produced a maximum of results;
• we were aware of the consequences of our intentions;
• what we believed made sense to someone we hated;
• our bitterest enemy agreed with us;
• what I thought became a reality for everyone else;
• gaining salvation meant admitting you were wrong;
• wanting to be good was more important than wanting to be right;
• we realized that power is impotent, without the power we give it;
• time didn't really exist;
• the everyday person realized there are worlds beyond the everyday;
• peace prevailed on Earth;
• the contestants in the Battle for Heaven were getting tired of fighting;
• reality consisted solely of possibilities;
• you had absolutely no idea;
• everything you believed to be true turned out to be false;
• nothing is at it appears?

And who has the slightest idea why there are as many questions as there are?

You can't waste more time than this

When I see what people post on social, mainstream, and alternative media (and, yes, I don't catch it all, but I do try to get a glimpse), I wonder what most of them have ever read. More to the point, quite often I wonder if they read anything at all (including the news feeds that they are merely copying and re-feeding). I mean, who really reads anymore?

Yes, I've always been an avid reader, but I never got into reading as much as when I tried to put together an academic paper on the subject. I tried to take a look at how the process worked and what the notion of "reading" even meant. After all, there are lots of people who can decipher and decode the marks on paper or on the screen, who can read aloud to let you know their decoding is correct, but who haven't the slightest idea what those sounds are saying. Yes, a lot of folks can make all the right sounds corresponding to the letters on the page, but like a parrot, they have no idea what those words are saying.

The skill can be learned. The skill can be taught. But, I can't shake off the feeling that neither learning or teaching is taking -- or has taken -- place. Yes, I can sob and moan about not having a lot of reading friends, but the more I look around me, the more I realize that too many people have too little idea what most authors are saying. It got so bad once that I thought I should start compiling a list of the "most misquoted writers of all time". The list got too long too fast and I gave up the project. I became overwhelmed. I had difficulty coming to terms with the fact that a lot of "authority" was being thrown my way, but little of what was maintained as "authority" found reflection in the texts.

A first example: Adam Smith's "invisible hand". I not only studied business once in my life, I taught it at the graduate level for 15 years. (That's not a brag, by the way, it's just a fact ... truth be told, I don't believe to this day that "business" is an academic field of study, but I played the game long enough to at least make this statement.) Though I was teaching a graduate-level course, not one of my students had ever read Adam Smith: neither his Theory of Moral Sentiments (in my not-so-humble opinion, a pre-requisite for understanding his more famous work) nor his Wealth of Nations. Some folks are aware he wrote the latter, most have no idea he wrote the former, but in any regard, we're confronted with Adam Smith's "invisible hand" at every turn in almost every economic discussion we have, be it formal, academic or in the pub. This all-so-important-and-critical phrase appears once -- yes, just once -- in the Wealth of Nations. In and of itself, that means nothing. However, when we consider that (a) it appears just once, and only once; (b) that it is not a topic of discussion or analysis itself but merely a passing example of another point he is trying to make; and (c) the text in which it appears (that is, the treatise on the Wealth of Nations) consists of five books in two volumes encompassing well over 1,000 pages, well, I have to ask myself, just how important this notion must have been to Mr. Smith himself. On the other hand, it appears to be the only clause that Milton Friedman ever understood in the whole text. If you don't believe me, try reading his Capitalism and Freedom and you can see what I mean. Self-interest plays a huge role, but whereas Smith alleged enlightened, Friedman's is wholely endarkened.

It makes you wonder ... well, it makes me wonder, at any rate. I know it takes time and effort to read, and even more to comprehend. It takes the most effort to engage and think through what you've read as well, and for that we apparently have no time left at all.

Recreational reading and other wastes of time

Anyone who knows me knows that I like to read. Anyone who knows me well knows I like to read a lot. And anyone who knows me really well knows that I'm rarely without my nose in a book whenever I find the time to put it there.

Most people who know me know that I'm a fairly eclectic reader. Most of those who know me better know that I'm more than casual reader. And most of those who know me even better know that there has rarely been a book printed that I would not be willing to read.

Yes, I'm one of those kind of persons who, when someone says, "Hey, you really should read this book", I reply with "Give it to me and I'll give it a shot." I won't deceive you into thinking that I've read every book I've ever had in my hands through from cover to cover. It's not necessary with some (say, have you ever tried reading a dictionary from cover to cover?), it's not possible with others (like when you're trying to decipher a text written with green letters on purple paper), but at least I'll give it a try. Who knows what might be in there? After all, someone went to a certain amount of trouble to ensure that the text got around. The least that I can do is honor the effort, even if I can't grasp what's being talked about. I am more than willing to openly admit that there are some texts that I simply don't get.

Truth be told, I wish I had more time to read, but there are only 24 hours in a day. Consequently, I always try to have more than one book going at any one time. I like to vary genres (non-fiction and fiction, poetry and spiritual texts work well together) and languages (in order to keep up my German which I so arduously learned, I like to have at least one book in German going at any given time). Another confession I need to make is that whatever I read on the internet (be it Facebook or any of the online groups with whom I'm affiliated) doesn't count as "real reading": the primary mode of internet communication is the written word, but that, to me, is a lot like a phone call. It may or not be communication in any meaningful sense of the word.

And so, the question naturally arises: what do I have to show for all of this reading. And, the answer is really rather simple: not a helluva lot. There are lots and lots and lots of interesting ideas out there floating about. No doubt about that. But what is every bit as necessary as reading all of this interesting (and, not-so-interesting) stuff is that you need time to reflect upon it. Reading is one thing. Digesting what you read is another. And I have found that quieter times, such as Lent, when, if you're into the spirit of the season, you kind of slow down just a bit, you can more easily find a fleeting moment here and there (even if it is as a change of pace to the normal monkey-brain-chatter we usually put up with before going to sleep) to think about what you've read.

What I miss sometimes, though, is someone to talk to about what I'm reading, but readers don't always read the same things at the same times. In these internet days in which we live, the neighborhood reading circle is an institution of bye-gone days. I am participating in an online reading group right now, for which I'm more than thankful, but that's a rarity, as most of you know. (The folks organizing and promoting the read are young people, however, and if their efforts are successful, I can only hope that they'll be encouraged to continue in the future.)

Still, all of those silent readers out there may one day be moved to speak. I just want you to know, I'm willing to listen.

It's all about perspective, or is it?

One of the most insightful, sometimes biting, and, unfortunately, too short-lived TV series ever produced was Father Ted. Those of you on the left shore of the Atlantic may not have ever heard of it, but it was, one of the few TV shows I have been willing to sit down and watch. I don't mention this because I want to plug the show, but because there was a scene in one of them that smacked me upside the head the first time I saw it and which has left a ringing in my ears ever since. Yes, sometimes, in the least likely of places, you can find just the key you need to open the door to a new world. And, thanks to the wonders of the internet, of course, I can share it with you (... and the important part comes after the tea kettle).

It's all about perspective, isn't it? But the real question that comes to my mind is, "How many of us are Dougals (that would be the young priest in the scene)?

You can scoff. Go right ahead. You can think I couldn't possibly be talking to you, but just how sure are you? After all, we love perspectives as postmodern denizens of Spaceship Earth. We live from perspectives. We thrive on perspectives. We live and move and find our being in perspective. Am I exaggerating? I don't think so.

Just what is "perspective"? Well, it's a way of looking at things, it's a particular way of looking at something, it's looking at something from a particular point of view; that is, it's a way of looking at something that depends rather essentially on the person doing the looking and the particular point from which the looking is taking place. If I'm looking at an elephant, let us say, from the front, then one of the most striking features I see is its trunk. If you are looking at the same elephant from the rear, well, then you have to decide whether it is the tail, what it hides, or whatever that is most prominent in your view of things. Having a particular take on a particular view that is particular to you has very much in common with what we call "opinions". And therein lies the rub, as Billy Quiverlance would say. When you get right down to it, perspectives are pretty much just opinions.

Now, for all of you who think I'm equating your way of looking at the world with looking at an elephant's butt, let me add that there is nothing wrong with opinions in and of themselves; not any more that there's anything wrong with looking at an elephant from the back or any other point of view. Opinions should be the result of thought, not a substitute for thought, but I do think you'll agree that there are far too many opinions that we are exposed to these days that have more in common with Dougal's comprehension of the world than Father Ted's. Yes, Bill, you are quite correct, the rub is beginning to chafe.

What most of us don't know, however, is that having a particular view of (any)thing(s) and knowing that it's our particular view is a rather new phenomenon in the evolution of the world. Oh sure, we all take it for granted, but it's really only something that we humans have been wrestling with for about the last 500 years. In geological or evolutional or even historical terms, that's not long ago at all.

It doesn't surprise me that Dougal hasn't fully come to terms with what perspective means. By the same token, it doesn't surprise me at all that most people don't deal with perspectives, and certainly not with opinions, very well. My problem is that in contrast to the show, where Dougal is rather quiet and reserved, today's Dougals are the ones making the most noise.

Isolation and massification

We're such big stuff, we Westerners, we highly-advanced, technologically-savvy, possession-addicted want-it-alls. Yeah, there's nothing that we don't think we deserve, well anything pleasurable, luxurious, flashy and envy-instilling, that is. Nah, there's not a resource so precious, not a landmass so pristine, not an environment so enlivening that we wouldn't sacrifice it to satisfy our greed, our need for more, our own personal satisfaction.

Oh, you can go to church on Sunday and pray all week that you don't get on the wrong side of G-d's wrath. You can believe for a whole monthful of Sundays that the witness you bore is some kind of get-out-of-hell free card. You can have undying faith that science is on your side or you're on science's and don't need any of that superstitious bunk. You can strut and parade and peacock your way all over town and through the mall, but in the end, I mean at the end of the day, when the sun goes down, when the cold dark of night engulfs you, you're still just another spoiled, overfed, frightened and lonely child, regardless whether your team crushed its weakly opponents or not. And when you drag your sad eyes open tomorrow morning, you'll only have the certainty that you're another cog in the wheel, a number in the system. Just when was it that you lost touch with everything that mattered?

Welcome to life in the postmodern world. Our world, t-h-e world, the only world we'll probably ever know, and it's a world of our own making. A world in which lifeless, soulless, imaginary (juridicial) entities, corporations, are people, and real people, people like you and me and our jerk of a neighbor are no longer even human. We're customers, consumers, clients who nobody listens to nor cares about once our wallets are empty. A world in which money, the love of which is the root of all evil, is free speech, and the more of it you have, the louder you can be. A world in which machines are programmed to make cookies all a bit different so that you get the feeling, have the illusion, that when you pull it out of the package, it was made just for you. A world in which we can individually customize any product or service to be delivered by a machine. A world in which machines are smarter, quicker, faster, more capable, and in the majority opinion more valuable than any single one of us.

Oh sure, you're you. You're your own person. You're in charge of your own life, but not in the least. From morning till night you're told what to wear, what to eat, how to dress, how to smell, how to talk, to be cool, to be noticed, to be twittered, if you're lucky, into your 15 seconds of fame. Sorry Andy, but we don't have minutes left for anyone anymore.

Yes, we're all our own selves, but selves disconnect from anyone who doesn't walk, talk, think, act, or like the same things we do. We're just lonely little selves. But you'll wave your home team's colors, or your school's or your company's or your country's, so that everyone can see that you belong, that you're one of whomever, but there your lonely self is merely an anonymous member/fan/alumni/citizen in the crowd.

Such is our postmodern world, and we all know, but few of us want to admit, that, well, things just can't go on like they are. Something has got to give. And it will, I can assure you. But the real question is, are you ready for it?

“You can’t crush ideas by suppressing them. You can only crush them by ignoring them. By refusing to think, refusing to change.”
― Le Guin, The Dispossessed

A new year, a new approach

An obnoxious purple dinosaur once remarked that sharing is caring, and despite my aversion to the character himself, I will freely admit, he does have a point. Sharing can take on any number of forms, and there is a line when crossed turns sharing into interference, so we should generally follow his advice, but not blindly. I mean, one of the reasons I blog is to share ... my questions about people and life, my thoughts about the world around me ... not because I primarily think that I have something of value to add to the already overburdened channels of communication we are subject to in our everyday lives, but because there might be someone here or there who stumbles across this or that and perhaps pauses to consider, think, question, or even seriously reflect. It doesn't matter (to me, at any rate) whether you believe in G-d or some other kind of Supreme Being or evolution and chance, the fact remains that we humans have minds and like the saying goes, minds are a terrible thing to waste. But let's face it, when we look out into the world, it's easy to get the feeling that more are being wasted than used, let alone used wisely.

One of the primary mind enhancers that we possess is the simple fact that our minds become better/stronger/more adaptable/insightful/open/critical/capable the more we use them. Please note, I'm not talking about the brain, which is a mere physical organ. No, I'm talking about whatever it is that goes on in/via/by means of that organ that we can't grasp with any of our physical senses. I'm talking about a quality of the brain -- albeit it a potential quality -- not some mere measurable quantity.

And so, instead of simply trying to explain things, or criticizing the faults in many people's thinking, or pointing out the flaws in logic that we are so often subjected to, or merely pleading that we should be less hateful and kinder to one another, I would like to invite you to participate in an often-claimed-but-rarely-exihibited, highly-praised-but-seldom-practiced, often-maligned-but-never-decimated, highly-suspect-and-highly-dangerous adventure called reflective critical thinking. As you suspect, all thinking-based activities are threateningly close to one's own thought processes and belief systems, and thus can be considered "philosophical". Philosophy, as Wikipedia or any dictionary will quickly tell us, comes from the Greek word meaning "love of wisdom". Wisdom is, sadly, in short supply these days, but you can only get it if you use your mind to explore the whys and wherefores of your world. That means, for better or for worse, that you have to take a few minutes now and then to retreat from the world of hustle-and-bustle, job-family-money, and stimuli bombardment to simply think about what you think.

Karl-Otto Apel, a German philosopher, once remarked that the practice of philosophy is in essence the scrutinizing and questioning of things that are self-evident (das Hinterfragen von Selbstverständlichkeiten); that is things we simply take for granted. Sometimes -- most times, I would maintain -- it is to our advantage to simply try and get to the roots of why some things are. It has two very huge advantages: first, it allows us to simply think a bit differently than we do every day (change can be refreshing), and second, it gives us an opportunity to take a closer look at ourselves without having to expose ourselves to others (insight can be, well, insightful).

And so, in the coming posts, should you encounter topics that are not what you normally expect or that appear to be more than obvious, I welcome you to take a closer look and give it all just a bit more thought. Nothing is as it appears, but everything is simply as we know it.

A house built on sand

Our new year is not off to a very good start.

• Heads are rolling in Saudi Arabia, and they're our friends.
• The Saudis are chairing the UN Human Rights Council, but they're beheading people publicly.
• Oil is flowing from ISIS, but they're our enemy.
• Arms are being provided to the Kurds, because they're fighting ISIS.
• The Turks are attacking the Kurds, because the Turks are fighting the PKK.
• NATO tolerates the Turks' attacks, because the Turks are our allies.
• Foreign and foreign-sponsored militias are waging a war against a government, but it's still talked about as if it were a civil war.
• The Poles have lurched dramatically to the right, but they're still our friends.
• Freedom of the press is being squelched in Poland and Hungary, and no one raises an eyebrow.
• Individuals running for the candidacy for president of the US openly spout hate and racism, and are cheered on.
• Negotiations on major, international trade agreements are still so secret that our elected representatives have no access, but we're supposed to trust the negotiators.
• In Europe legislation took effect to unprotect people's savings essentially declaring their deposits bank property, and no one even questions the concept of "bail-in".
  

Oh, there's more ... but these are the first few that immediately sprang to mind.

And this is our foundation for a better 2016? 'Fraid not.

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.

The absurdity of neoliberalism, period

Sometimes I don't know if are progressing, in any sense of the word, or if we are regressing, almost in every sense of the word. The signature value of the small vignette I presented last time still haunts me. It is precisely the attitude of two of the most revered political figures of the 20th century: Thatcher and Reagan.

They were absurdists in their own right. Thatcher openly asserted in absurdity that society doesn't exist, and Reagan, the actor in the role of president, thought Milton Friedman was a brilliant man.

For those of you who may be unaware, Friedman wrote the neoliberalist bible, Capitalism and Freedom, though I doubt that many of you have ever read it (I have, but I would like the time back). It's one of those "classic" texts that uses a whole lot of words to say, well, absolutely nothing, which is as much as trickles down from his trickle-down approach to economics ... or "voodoo economics", as it was called before it became "respectable". Thatcher, Reagan, Friedman are mere examples, just like the liberal-arts college president from last time, share one primary characteristic in common: they may be in charge, but at heart, they're know-nothings.

But, know-nothings are nothing new in the United States, at any rate. Mid-19th century they made a name for themselves and a bit of political splash, short-lived as it deservedly was. But what goes around, comes around and it's apparently back in fuller force again. The run-up to the Republican nomination for president is one example; but our college president, too many "educational reformers" on both sides of the Atlantic, the Troika or Quadrika, as they like to call it these days since the Eurogroup is now involved (yes, an informal association with no formal authority and not legitimized in any way is now playing an "important role" in the European debt crisis. It would seem the absurdity has gone full bloom.

We have non-economists implementing nonsensical economic theory and non-educationalists implementing irrelevant educational policy. We have millionaires trying to show how well they relate to common folk. There are experts of all sizes, shapes and colors who love going on TV to show us how little they know, but so many believe them anyway. We have union-busters going on about right-to-work, polluters and fossil-fuel fetishists denying climate change (and getting away with it), and it all boils down to the simple fact that if you can't but a monetary value on it, it has no value at all.

Stated differently, the only value that counts is money value. A step forward? A step backward? Even a step at all?

As usual, the real answer is my favorite, "e) None of the above".

I refuse to accept that as an option. I refuse to acknowledge that money is the measure of all things. I refuse to adjust to a world that is too ignorant to discuss any more. I continue to resist the temptation to just throw up my hands and say, all those absurdities make sense. They don't, and they never will.

The long and short of it all, if you think economics is primary and neoliberalism is the only reasonable approach to the world, you're not part of the problem, you are the problem.

The absurdity of neoliberal education

Shortly after writing the last post, I was pointed to an article which went a good ways toward answering my final question. It is well worth reading in its entirety, to say the least, even though I'm sure most of you won't bother. (If you are interested, however, you can find it here.) William Deresiewicz wrote it for Harper's, and its title tells the story: "The Neoliberal Arts: How college sold its soul to the market". One vignette therein facepalmed me:

A couple of years ago, I sat down with the newly appointed president of a top-ten liberal-arts college. He had come from a professional school (law, in his case), as so many college deans and presidents now seem to.

I started by telling him that I had just visited an upper-level class, and that no one there had been able to give me a decent definition of “leadership,” even though the college trumpeted the term at every opportunity. He declined to offer one himself. Instead, he said, a bit belligerently, “I’ve been here five months, and no one has been able to give me a satisfactory definition of ‘the liberal arts.’ ”

I offered the one I supplied above: those fields in which knowledge is pursued for its own sake. When you study the liberal arts, I added, what you’re mainly learning to do is make arguments.

“Scientists don’t make arguments,” he said (a statement that would’ve come as a surprise to the scientists on the faculty). “And what about painters? They don’t make arguments.”

I tried to explain the difference between the fine and the liberal arts (the latter are “arts” only by an accident of derivation) with little success. “So what do you think the college should be about?” I finally asked him.

“Leadership,” he said.

This is absolutely "brilliant": the "boss", the equivalent of the CEO in the private sector, has no experience "in the business (was at a professional, not an academic, institution), does not know what the "product" is. What is more, He isn't even aware that there are different "arts", let alone arts at all, and in the end, he thinks his institution is about something that he can't even say what it is.

And that my dear readers pretty much sums up the heart of the problem, not only with education, but with neoliberalism in general. Nowhere in its entire ideological realm is competence, intelligence, insight, or actual qualification necessary. Buzzwords suffice along with a big enough paycheck to think that you have something to say.

There are simply too many of these folks "in charge", but how can you discuss or debate with any of them (not to mention those who would like to be like them and would like to emulate them and have even less to offer), if they have no idea what they are doing, and, what's worst of all, don't even know what an argument is.

Buffalo Springfield nailed it

"Nobody's right, if everybody's wrong." A line from a Buffalo Springfield song ("For What It's Worth"). As true now as it was then, maybe even more so. Why? Because a pernicious infection that began so long ago has borne its fruit.

What fruit, you may ask? How about: over-political correctness, either-or thinking, an either-you're-with-us-or-against-us attitude, advocating love-it-or-leave-it, and many, many more. There's so much fruit we don't know whether to make marmalade or some kind of alcoholic beverage. The former might be better for us, but most of us favor the latter.

My point is that this isn't a new phenomenon, it's only taken on a more aggressive and bitter dimension. There was a time we could talk. There was a time we could debate and discuss. There was a time when justified and substantiated views meant something. Those times are gone.

What's so amazing, if you ask me, is that those times are considered to be "the good old days", when everything was anything but good: enforced and dictated conformity, institutionalized racial discrimination, submission to authority, and a-place-for-everything-and-everything-in-its-place thinking carried the day. Yes, for the greatest part we were "told" how to think and feel, yet in those (not-so-) "good old days", there was still a modicum of dissent possible; discussion was still possible, debate was still possible. It was simply accepted that the person with the best argument(s) won. And then it all changed.

Out of that repressive, conformity-seeking "cultural" attitude, out of that forensically-based, argumentatively challenging norm, we created a winner-takes-all, right-or-wrong, in-or-out view of the world. Buffalo Springfield saw it happening. We're living the consequences of the thought.

The most negative form of all of this is, of course, "political correctness". What's good or bad, right or wrong, acceptable or unacceptable is dictated from the surface of things. Words, concepts, notions, ideas cannot be explored because some people find some words "offensive". I'm here to tell you that words are nothing more than words. Yes, there are those who are offended when they hear the word "fuck" and there are those who are elated when they hear the word "Jesus", but how do we know where and when and to whom and for what reasons some people are uplifted and others discouraged by such words. Again: they are but words.

Humpty Dumpty taught us that words mean whatever we think they mean. But the words haven't changed, only the "we's". And now, every "we" feels that it deserves equal time and equal treatment and equal consideration, and I believe that that is absolutely correct. What I don't believe is that equal anything means equal acceptance. It only means "you may say". How others deal with it is a whole different issue.

Don't get me wrong: anyone who denigrates or demeans or dismisses what another says simply because s/he "doesn't like it" is as ignorant as s/he who gets upset because someone from another perceptual framework doesn't understand the term as the in-group understands it. It's time for us to get over the words and get down to what we are really talking about. And, to do that, we have to be able to accept, acknowledge, differ, discuss, and debate what we are saying.

Oh, I don't long for "the days", but I do wish for possibility to talk about it. Why is that so hard?

The knowing ignorant

It should be the case that we agree that there's only so much on this planet to go around. To put it in technical terms, there is a finite amount of resources available to humankind. We're clever, that is true, and we have learned to do a lot with our waste, with our garbage and we can do a lot of sustainable things and we can recycle a lot. But regardless of how hard we try, we can't make up for what we don't have.

Last time, I pointed out that if there were only 370% (that is, over three-and-a-half times) more resources than are currently available, everyone on the planet could live as well as we do. We all know, that's impossible, and so I wanted to take the opportunity to point out another impossibility, but one that we believe in just as fervently as we do that hard work and personal responsibility are the key to our salvation.

For those of you who may have forgotten, the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) is the value of all the goods and services produced by a country. For the USA, it's about $17 tr (that's trillion, 1 with 15 zeros after it); for the EU it's around 18 tr; and for the world as a whole it's almost $75 tr. What the GDP tries to calculate is the actual worth of real value in products and services that a country, or the whole world, produces. This is an estimate, to be sure, but it is an estimate about real things, tangible products and experienced services. It's not a fiction, rather it is an attempt to put a number, a (in this case) dollar value on what we make and what we do.

Money, on the other hand, is not really a real thing, rather it is a number linked to an account. The USA, for example, may have a GDP of $17 tr, but that does not mean that there are 17 trillion dollar bills (or their equivalent) floating around in the world. Most of the "money" is just a number on a balance statement or an account statement. Yes, that's how our monetary system works and it is really not much of a problem as long as the money we think we have is backed by something real somewhere (a house, a business, an iron-ore mine, or whatever).

But, here's the kicker (at least to me): in 2008 when the financial crash came, when everything threatened to go belly-up, when the banks screamed bloody-murder and needed to be bailed out, the reason, you may recall were risky investments that threatened to collapse. We heard a lot about so-called "financial derivatives" and, in particular, "CD swaps" (bundled packages of investment papers created by the banks), and how not being able to "honor these obligations" threatened to destroy the entire banking system (i.e., the too-big-to-fail issue).

What most people don't know, and what the banking industry doesn't really want you to know, and what too many are willing to overlook is that the value of the CD-swaps alone (yes, the most precarious, but not the only doubtful, "investment instrument") was six time the WDP (world domestic product). In plain-text: the paper that was a problem, was valued 6 times higher than all the products and services that the world was able to produce at the time. In other words, it was backed by nothing. It was a fiction. It was just a number on a piece of paper, so to speak.

Those in charge at the time knew that this was unreal. Governments around the world (except, for example, in Iceland) acted as if there was no alternative but to save the banks. That there was nothing to save is inconsequential. That the losses were fictitious doesn't matter. They knew, but got us to believe, that the only way "out" was to save them.

And now we have the consequences: the banks are in charge, and the rest of us have nothing to say. Oh we have so much to be proud of, especially of how little we know and how little we are willing to do about it.

The willing ignorant

Every person reading this blog has got it (as good as) made. You've got internet access, food in your fridge, a steady place to sleep, and a roof over your head. That makes you part of the top 25% worldwide. In more absolute terms, there are no fewer than 5,250,000,000 individuals on this planet who are worse off, if not far worse off, than you.

And, still you complain.

Don't get me wrong, you have reason for complaint. I mean, even if you lead a relatively luxurious life, there is an ever so thin slice of elite that makes your life look like one of abject poverty and doing-without. What you share with those below you is disempowerment: you'll never have what "they" have. What you share with those above you, though, is a permanent desire for more, even if it means that those below you will have less. Greed has never known bounds, either in intensity, or in breadth.

The usual "justification" (i.e., rationalization) is that if everyone else worked harder and took on some personal responsibility, they could do better too. This is, I hate to say it, pure, unadulterated bullshit. If hard work were any kind of measure, women in Africa would rule the world, but they don't. And if personal responsibility meant anything at all, large numbers of bankers would be in prison, but they aren't. These aren't reasons. They're only excuses.

But, I'm not here to criticize your lack of comprehension of the obvious, nor am I here to criticize your morals. Those are things you have to come to terms with for yourself and on your own. What I wanted to contribute, however humble, is a mere simple math lesson to hopefully expose the error in your attitude. And it goes like this:

The USA represents about 4% of the world's population, yet they consume 25% of the world's resources. The EU (in whatever sense you may define it) represents about 7% of the world's population and they consume about 40% of the world's resources, and when you throw in Japan, we looking at about 16% of the world's population consuming around 80% of the world's resources. So, what does that mean?

China has a population of over 1 billion people; India has surpassed China as the most populated country on the planet. Thrown in Brazil and Africa and all that's left over and you've got almost three quarters of the world's population trying to make do with 20% of its resources. If we expected them to work hard, take on some personal responsibility so that they could be like us, it would be possible if the world had 370% remaining for them. You don't have to be a math wiz to realize that as it is, and as we're (and I mean everyone reading this and me, and all our friends and relatives and ...) living, there simply isn't enough to go around, regardless of how hard anyone works and irrespective of how much personal responsibility one accepts.

In other words, it's simply time to acknowledge that the problem isn't with "them", rather "we're" the problem. And it's time for us to act accordingly.

A message from the mirror

Though a lot of folks I know don't like to hear it, "facts" in and of themselves mean nothing. They just are. I'm talking about real facts now, such as "grass is usually green" or "the Magna Charta was signed in 1215" or "the atomic number of oxygen is 8". None of these really means anything as they stand. I mean, who really cares one way or the other? They must be placed in some kind of context for them to become meaningful.

There are other "facts" which really aren't facts in the true sense of the word, rather they are beliefs or opinions or the like. For example, "the sun rises in the east" is not a fact, it is a metaphor to describe a phenomenon. Due to the earth's rotation, it looks like the sun is rising in the east but in actual fact the earth is simply turning. Or, "a healthy diet is essential for good health". Well, not in all cases. Some people survive and thrive on what might kill others, and enough people eating healthy diets get sick anyway. There's more here that needs to be considered for the statement to reflect an actual fact.

What the preceding examples all have in common is good, old-fashioned, sloppy thinking. We humans can very often make do with being sort of right and sort of on target and sort of in the know. Life is very tolerant like that. Oh sure, there are times and instances when exactitude means the difference between life and death, but in the grand scheme of everyday things, these are really rather rare. In most cases, "almost" is almost always good enough.

Now, given that this is the case, why do we humans demand so much, especially so much of others? And, as a corollary to that, why are most of us bothered, on the other hand, by others demanding so much of us? I wonder about that a lot these days. Could it be that we're only getting back what we are giving out? Could it be that we are (perhaps unknowingly) expecting more of others than we expect of our ourselves? Could it be that we feel shortchanged in our own treatment as human beings that we're trying to even the score? I don't know. Like I said, it's just something that I've been thinking a lot about lately.

When we look in the mirror all we can see is whatever is there to be reflected, no more and certainly no less. Sure, it's reversed from side-to-side, but we can handle that. The mirror has long been used as an effective metaphor for life and all that happens therein, so it can't hurt to stop for a moment and think about whether we may be expecting to see more in the mirror than the mirror has to offer.

The long and short of it is that whatever you happen to be experiencing, and how you feel you are being treated by everyone else is almost certainly merely a reflection of how you are treating others and what they are experiencing as a result. I'm not saying this is how things are, I'm only saying this is how things could be. Perhaps that's something you can reflect upon.

You don't have to have lost your eyesight to be blind

You can't solve a problem you can't identify. You also can't find solutions to most of life's problems on your own either.

There are many who look for guidelines to help them find their way through life: it might be religious precepts (like the 10 Commandments or Buddha's 8-Fold Path), it might be a sense of moral dignity, it really doesn't matter. When all is said and done, I truly believe that all the "Paths to Righteousness" or "Enlightenment" or "Salvation", I really don't care what you think you have to call it either, can be reduced to one very simple statement. Yes, that's how complex, how complicated human life on this planet is: one rule, guideline, suggestion is all we need.

My friend Stan Tenen at the Meru Foundation has pointed out very clearly that all religions worldwide share one basic precept: they have some form, some expression of what is most commonly known as the "Golden Rule" (which can (and does) include even atheists, in the form of Kant's categorical imperative). And, on the more-than-secular side, the Australian comedian Jim Jefferies has reduced this notion to even simpler terms: "Try not to be an asshole."

We don't need any more than that ... BUT, and believe me this is a big "but": there are no exceptions. If you want to reduce things, reality, life, whatever, to simplest terms, this is it.

For most of us, however, this is too much to ask, and so we come with any number of excuses why that can't possibly be T-H-E solution. Truth be told, it's not a solution, it's a way to prevent solutionless problems from arising. That, on the other hand, is too big a deal for oh, so many people, especially those who love to go on and on about personal responsibility, in all its shapes and forms.

So, there you have it in a nutshell. That's it. Now, how many exceptions do you believe you should be allowed to make?

You don't have to have lost your hearing to be deaf

A long time ago, I tried to point out the difference between complexity and complicatedness. I'm sure a lot of folks didn't understand what I was talking about, but what I had to say then is every bit as relevant today as it was then.

Folks: the world isn't complicated, our lives our; our understanding of reality is; our beliefs and what we hold to be true and good are complicated. Lord knows. But none of it is complicated. Yes, the world, reality, nature, modern society, whatever, are complex. There is always more at work than we can ever know. Lord knows. But, it's not like that makes all that much of a difference.

Truth be told (and I'm here to tell you), life, existence, reality, whatever you want to call it, may be complex, but it is not complicated. You, they, I, all of us, have to deal with "life" (whatever we experience it to be) as it presents itself. There is hardly a thing we can do about what it is that confronts us. We have to deal with whatever it is that shows up. But ...

Being the simple person that I am, I have spent years, decades, searching for a simple rule of thumb that would help me deal with the vagaries of life, and I found that two, simple rules help me one whole helluva lot. What comes, comes; you've got to deal with whatever it is, and 99.9% of what comes our way has to do with decisions we made in the past. Sure, people get hit by busses, come down with terminal illnesses, and more, but there is not a single thing we can do about any of that. We have to learn to deal with it. I deal with it by trying my damnedest to remember every good thing about my involvement with those who have been taken or stricken. If they're still alive, then I want to do whatever I can to help make their lives a little less trying. Not always easy, to be sure, but always worth while.

On the other hand, it's not just what comes to me in life that matters. I, like everyone else, have an effect, often an impact on the world around me. I need to be aware of that, too. I'm not perfect (and most people I know will attest to that fact) nor do I think I ever will be. Nevertheless, I have to think about my part of life's equation.

How many of you are truly aware of yours?

Just how insane does it have to get?

The past couple of weeks have been trying, at least for me that have been. I'm not talking about my personal life. It's as "normal" as it's going to get, but what I see going on all around me is taking its toll.

It's not just the colonization of a nation within the European Union; it's not just the war-mongering and sabre-rattling towards Russia including supporting fascists in the Ukraine; it's not just the Turkish flip-flop on not knowing whether the Kurds or ISIS is the biggest perceived threat to them. No, it's the insanity that accompanies even the smaller issues.

It's the sheer ignorance that comes with ignoring anything that looks like a fact and stating one's opinion as if it was worth listening to. It's the hypocrisy of claiming to help when all you are really doing is harm. It's the perverse way that history gets twisted to make us think that Iran, for example, was responsible for 9/11, or that we can't identify terrorism when it's homegrown, or we rush to suspect terrorism where there is none but it suits our purposes, or how it is possible to believe the answer to gun violence is more guns, or how it is possible, in the allegedly freest country in the world that a former general can float the idea of internment camps for those not loyal enough to America. And this, in the 21st century.

There can be no violence great enough that will make us believe that violence is not the answer. There is no belief so distorted that it can't hide reality from us. There is no self-righteousness so great that it can't allow us to believe that we're the good guys and everybody else is bad.

That's our world today ... day in and day out. It's not just that the inmates are running the asylum, they've got most of us cheering them on.

Shoot the messenger

The more things change, the more they stay the same. In olden times, if the messenger brought bad news, chances were good he's pay for it with his life. It wasn't his fault the news was bad, but he paid the price anyway. In retrospect, we considered it a grave injustice, but we practice it everyday ourselves.

One of the underlying themes of my past few posts has been just this: our willing to shoot the messenger. In any discussion of a current event or current situation, the easiest, quickest, and most devastating response is to simply call the source into question. There are not a few people who actually consider themselves serious, critical thinkers who have nothing better to offer in the way of discussion. This is unfortunate.

The English philosopher R.G. Collingwood has been my role model for this. In his brief, but extremely readable, fascinating autobiography (called An Autobiography, in English; the German title was Denken, "Thinking"), he relates how most of his colleagues belonged to the Logical Positivist or Analytic schools of thought (the former being focused, according to itself as the logical clarification of thought, whereby formal grammars and logic play a dominant role; the latter being influenced to a great extent by mathematics and the natural sciences, allegedly focusing on narrow themes and logical precision ... that is to say, it's more a style than type of thinking). He himself fit in much better with what is often characterized as Continental Philosophy, in particular Hermeneutics (the art and science of interpretation and understanding). In their monthly department meetings, they would present their latest findings and debate them. Their biggest fear, apparently, was that Collingwood would want to take their side. He believed the best way to figure out whether a position or argument was valuable was to use it as conscientiously as possible. To do this, one has to delve into it and understand how it works. Too often, Collingwood revealed that the argument was a mere house of cards. You're right. He didn't have a lot of friends in the faculty. People who are looking for truth often don't have a lot of friends.

I miss guys like Collingwood. One of my two best friends from college feeds me regularly with articles and op-eds from publications that I would most likely never dream of reading. But, since he's a friend, and I respect him, of course, I seriously engage these readings and we discuss them, sometimes lively and heatedly, but in a very rewarding and satisfying manner. I always learn something, and often something important. He allows me to infuse a little of Collingwood's spirit into my own life. He does the same with the stuff I send him.

Unfortunately, my friend is pretty much one of a kind. I encounter far too many people who are busy building their own little bubbles in which to exist. I don't know why, I can only surmise, and for the moment I believe that this behavior is so widespread because there are simply too many things wrong with our world. Keep your job; whatever you do, don't get fired; keep a low profile; arm yourself to the teeth, if necessary; don't get involved; don't get out of line; but whatever you do, don't think too seriously about what you're doing.

And the best way to keep that process going is to simply shoot whoever shows up with something you really don't want to hear.

The art of understanding discussions

The most obvious and poignant example of not being able to discuss anything (reasonably or otherwise) is American politics today. I don't want anyone thinking I'm picking on the Americans in particular, but what they are showing the world these days is downright embarrassing.

When seen from the outside, all one notices is that two sides have crystallized which are, beneath the surface, surprisingly similar (invested with corporate influence, overtly oppressive, violent, undemocratic, hypocritical, power-obsessed, disrespectful of human rights ... the list goes on), but on the surface portrayed as diametrically opposed. When that organization that is allegedly representative of the people pass certain legislation, say, health care legislation, and the other side tries to repeal it 40 times, you have to ask yourself what the real issue is. When you have religiously questionable beliefs being passed off as reasonable arguments in a discussion, you have to ask yourself if these people are of sound mind. When you have tenets of a particular religious faith being presented in opposition to sound scientific evidence, and when you have the full-scale denial of scientific evidence because it doesn't fit in with what you want to be true, well, then you don't have much basis for any kind of discussion about anything anymore. This is no longer reasoned discussion or debate, this is childish misbehavior.

Oh, I don't think it would bother me, or the rest of the world, so much if Americans weren't so willing to take their current brand of incoherency a-peddling. There are issues that need to be discussed, such as climate change, capitalism, the financial system, globalization, the role of corporate influence, the role of national sovereignty, war, crime, aggression, human rights, just to name a few, but what we have, increasingly, is a situation in which no reasoned discussion; that is, no reasonable search for real solutions, is possible.

This infantilism that American politics embodies is spreading elsewhere. It apparently has no trouble trickling down. It is becoming increasingly difficult to talk to, let alone debate anything with others. Of course, I'm speaking of my own personal experience, but I don't think I'm all that different than most people. Who is actually willing to engage an opponent's ideas? Who is willing to read or consider "the other side's" positions? Who still wants to be reasonable about anything?

I'm very fortunate in that I still have a few friends and people with whom I discuss things that are tolerant enough to consider something other than what's in their own heads. How often have you heard statements like "Oh, you read that in The Nation/The American Conservative, well why would you believe anything written in that rag?" How many folks criticize Adam Smith but have never read him? How many reject Marx outright, but have never read him? How many people do you know who are willing, and able, to follow an extended argument ... say, something longer than a Tweet or a Facebook post ... and who can contribute to the discussion?

My hope lies in the fact that I know there are some folks who still can. My worry is that there aren't enough of them to end up making a difference. How many of you still think you can? How many of you want to make a difference?