You can't fix stupid, but stupidity can be fixed

We've got a problem. By "we", I mean those of us who find ourselves in what we like to think of as the 1st World -- and I'm not the first to ask somewhat naively, where's the 2nd one? Yeah, you, almost all of your reading this, and your friends, and your friends' friends, if they have any, and the people around you, like family and neighbors, and all of us who have too much time on our hands, too much money in our pockets, and too little sense to know what to do with either.

Now, before you go off all insulted because you're struggling to make ends meet or you're starting to sweat all the debt you're carrying around or whether there is going to be anything left for your kids or grandkids ... if you're concerned about any of that, you are precisely whom I'm talking to. Your problem isn't insufficient funds, it's insufficient gratitude. The vast majority of human beings on this planet would swap places with you in a heartbeat: and you'd die having to deal with theirs, and they'd think they'd died and gone to heaven. It's a matter of perspective, true, but also relativity. According to popular, widespread, and most oft proclaimed ideology: you chose your problems; the vast majority of humanity had theirs dumped on them by people who care more about themselves than even you do. If you've got a conscience, you'll never make it into the top 10%, let alone 1%. You're not cut out for it. Or sell your conscience. At the moment, however, you're just in the way ... of progress to make a better world or your just another wannabe for those at the top who want, and will eventually, get what you have.

You might get the impression that I'm a bit miffed at the moment, a bit irked, a bit bothered, a bit off-center. And you're right. I am. But, I firmly believe that I have every reason to be. Oh sure, I've cobbled together a fixed-income existence; I don't own anything other than a car of good middle age; I've got family around me, a couple of friends (who at least people who tolerate having me around); I've got a roof over my head, enough to eat and access to the world's largest cesspool of information, the internet. I haven't got a single reason to complain about anything in my life. But I'm also not only not the only person on the planet and I'm not the only person in my immediate environment. I'm part of a larger whole that varies in size depending on time of day, phase of the moon, and societal configuration.

In other words, I lead a relatively normal Western life. And I'm thankful for that, believe me. I'm thankful that I have the wherewithal, the inclination, the talent, the time, the opportunity to share my thoughts with all of you. But, I must admit, I'm rather bothered by the echoes that are finding their way back to me. Like most of you, I've got a real life and an online life, and the online life has to do with social media to a large extent, and regardless of what you think about either in general, I can assure you that, in particular, the online part is causing me more and more concern with each passing day. That's why I'm bringing this up here, with you, with all of you who obviously have an online life as well. The number of people with online lives is growing daily. The "society" that these online denizens are forming, however, is not exactly what I had hoped it would be way back when 95% of the people on the internet lived within 10 miles of my home. Yeah, I've had a chance to watch all this develop, and I'm not all that excited about what I see.

I'm going to out myself right up front: I don't believe the least in "human nature", but I believe unboundedly in "human potential". I believe -- deep, in the very heart of my own being -- that human beings are the living expression of the possibility of all possible possibilities. (That's the optimist heart that beats in my breast.) And I also believe, unreservedly, that the low end of those possibilities is the world we have thought out for ourselves, the world in which we're all -- at the moment -- forced to live. Stated succinctly, we're the biggest of all of G-d's failures. (And thus beats my cynic's heart in that same breast.)

We are, and have shown, that we're capable of the most exhilarating flights of brilliance: fire, the wheel, more-than-sufficient food production, disease eradication, alternative energies and explorations to the stars. At the same time, we have demonstrated that we're capable of the most terrifying horrors imaginable: war, genocide, unimaginable physical and psychological violence, greed, selfishness, self-absorption, and lack of empathy that there are moments when I find myself almost yearning for that last affront to occur so that we all go down the tubes the blinding fire of nuclear annihilation. And therein lies the rub, as the bard so eloquently put it.

You should be aware that all of G-d's children don't have the same intellectual capabilities and capacities. And that's OK as far as I'm concerned. Some of the nicest people I ever had the honor of dealing with weren't the sharpest pencils in the box, as they say, but they were Menschen, in both the true and Yiddish senses of the word. They cared about others, were kind, generous, helpful, supportive, and chock full of empathy and sympathy for the plight of others. I don't consider these people stupid, however. No, to me, stupid is when you think you know something, when you think you are smarter than you really are, or when you let external, non-personal "attributes" drive your actions.

Three of these are particularly dangerous: money, guns, and power. You can be bright, but once money (or in its most fundamental and nefarious form, the love of money) takes over it's good-bye smarts. Money is a prime cause of stupidity. You think your money makes you better, and smarter than everyone else, but it doesn't. It makes you think you're an authority on things you have no idea about (e.g., Bill Gates and world health or education). Guns are also a classic, and they (or the violence they represent) is a key feature of the gangster/Mafioso boss Hollywood has infected us with for decades. The propensity toward violence or violent behavior, the willingness to use it so "resolve arguments" is prototypical of stupidity in general. And finally, power ... often some vague combination of the previous two attributes, or "actual" power, like a political office (here, Bush the Lesser jumps out as poster child for what can happen when the intellectually challenged get it in their heads that they're better than and worth more than others) ... is the worst of all. And it's the one that has the most disastrous effects on the most people.

Even the most superficial gloss over the history of humankind reveals that it has been those awash in stupidity who have been in charge. We don't know who it was who figured out "fire", but we know practically everybody's name who used fire -- in one form or another -- to ensure that hundreds, thousands, if not millions of people had to suffer to satisfy their own egos. And we praise them, look up to them, remember them, and as school-children are forced to memorize their names, but in the end, they were stupid, self-absorbed, self-serving egoists who forced their personal mentation on others. Alexander the Great, the Roman Caesars, the British and other European royal houses, from Stockholm to Madrid, and, most recently, a whole bevy of American presidents (not starting with but particularly egregious since Reagan), have tortured the life out of countless human beings for the greater glory of , and we laugh and gloat and cheer and pat ourselves on the back for being so "great". But why? What's so smart about being able to kill untold human beings at will? Why do we think -- at this point in history, here, at the beginning of the 21st century (since we've agreed on counting years) -- that this is a good thing? Sure, it enables you to sit there in your room; fat, dumb and happy that you can look down upon the vast majority of humankind; but you need to explain to me what about this is good.

Recent history has shown us what's going on. Whether is was Thatcher in Britain or Reagan in the US, or Clinton (who could cover it over better than most), or Blair or Bush the Lesser (if that wasn't the tip-off, I don't know who was) or Merkel, or Cameron or Juncker or Schäuble or Gabriel or Obama or that it's not the bright ones who are leading the way and seeing to it that the proper shots are called. No, among this limited selection of individuals there are those who -- on their own, in a normal conversation -- would come across as half-way intelligent and reasonable, there seems to be the overwhelming propensity, if not compulsion, to blow any and all alleged inherent intelligence to the wind and strut forth as a contender for the crown of Village Idiot.

This -- not the results of neoliberal economic policies -- is what trickles down. We then find the same behavior patterns in the general population, be it in alternative political parties (like the AfD in Germany) or alternative political candidates (like Trump in the US (though Hilary isn't much better) and his followers) or just plain misinformed-and-proud-of-it welfare-bashers, gun-nuts, evangelicals, flag-wavers, sports-fanatics, and small-minded bleaters would rather complain about others than actually do something for or with others to make a difference. And I'm amazed each day at the number of people for whom this description applies.

No, I don't have a very high opinion of the general quality of information available on the internet, but there is a lot of good, sound, reliable information to be found there. But you have to go looking for it, and you have to wade through cybermiles of sludge and jungle to find it. There are good, sound, and inspiring insights to be found there, but you have to be able to weigh and evaluate, compare and contrast, and, well, think, to figure out which they are.

Of course, you have to be willing to explore thoughts, ideas, opinions, and views with which you don't necessarily or immediately agree and you have to be willing to assess their validity, their impacts and maybe even their worth. But that takes both time and effort and, well, with all the important stuff so many of us have in our lives that needs to get done, who is going to ensure they do this as well? But, most importantly, you have to be willing to communicate what you find and discuss it with others, not just with people whom you agree with. You need actively engage other ideas and notions if you are ever to come up with thoughts and ideas of your own. And who, pray tell, is going to be willing to do that? There are some thank goodness, though they are few and far between. There are some who haven't yet given up, even though they are reviled and ridiculed by those who have chosen stupidity and their particular way of life.

The point is that we don't have to be in the messes we're in. We don't have to deal with all the ignorant nonsense which pervades most of our lives. We don't have to allow stupidity to rule our lives ... but we are, we do and we will, because to change any of it, we might just have to change ourselves. So, don't complain about stupid (and all that is wrong with everybody else) if you choose stupidity yourself. And that is the choice too many people are making.

Americans aren't the only ones

Although "nations" are a rather recent phenomenon on the world stage, there is no dearth of supporters who wouldn't trade them for anything. Americans are right at the top of the list, but a lot of others, like Russia, China, a couple of the Southeast Asian group or a few in Africa would like to get in on the deal. I don't know what the fascination is to be honest, just what is it that makes them so desirable?

A lot of you don't get the reason for the question. It's quite clear that we've had nations forever and it's as natural as four seasons in some parts of the world or rain in spring (if you're from the Northern Hemisphere). Actually, prior to 1648 and Treaty of Westphalia, there weren't ever really "nations" in our current understanding of the world, but, hey, why should we let historical facts get in the way of our beliefs? Life is certainly easier when you just pick and choose what suits us rather than getting the bigger picture. Why we have border where we have them or whether they make sense, well, those are issues that have been decided, of course, so there's no need to worry our little heads about them. Or is there?

In the Western Hemisphere (a rather artificial construct, if I may say so) 1776 is a year worth nothing. In the Eastern, however, it's 1789. In both years, revolutions took place and both these revolutions had a significant impact on everything that followed. The former was a conscious (even if perhaps, unnecessary) decision; the latter, a spontaneous act that developed into something that no one foresaw. This raises a question whether revolutions are a matter of choice or fate. I don't know. What I do know, however, is that some folks peg their beliefs on the one, while others will tell you it was the other date that matters. It really doesn't matter at all.

Sometimes I think that the petty and silly animosity between Americans and the French is about who had the "real" or the "true" or the "better" revolution. Depending on who you are reading, one year or the other can be used as marking the shift of humanity into "modernity". Whoopee. So far, no one's been able to make clear to me why that makes any difference at all.

When we look at the facts, we're left with this: a lot of violence occurred, a lot of blood flowed, a lot of innocent people suffered, and a lot of misery was visited upon the participants. In the decades that followed, a lot of violence occurred, a lot of blood flowed, a lot of innocent people suffered, and a lot of misery was visited upon those who benefitted from the "revolutions". And for what? For me, that's the key question.

The reasons for both were more similar than different: injustice, be it because of taxes or the simple ability to feed one's family. The results of both were more similar than different too: a different group of oppressors took over, a lot of people had to pay taxes and couldn't feed their families, and we have a different illusion of what our role is in the grand scheme of things.

Don't get me wrong, there are good things that came out of both. But ... are we moderns really better off than those revolutionaries. I often wonder.

Beware, humans!

I would hate to think that anyone has got the idea that I'm condemning or belittling or making a case against a good number of my fellow human beings. A couple of points are worth noting.

Juat as they say, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it is most likely a duck. So too, if it walks like a human being and talks like a human being, regardless of how much nonsense that might be, it is definitely a human being. We can, and do, recognize those of our own species, easily and readily. It's hardwired into us, so to speak. And this is good so.

Of course, we humans are the only creatures on the planet capable of cruelty, of sadism, of unbelievable acts of depravation and violence, but never are these people not human, nor subhuman. In our rage and anger and sheer horror, we may refer to them as such, but that does not make them so. They're still humans. Bad humans, evil humans even, but nevertheless humans, and they need to be dealt with accordingly. The moment we allow ourselves to become just as cruel and depraved, say, out of feelings for revenge, we are really no better than they are, even if we like to think our reasons for our actions are justified. In all cases, where actual insanity is not involved, the perpetrators have also found a justification that permits them to do what they do. The line between right and wrong is always fuzzy. It would be nice if things in life were clear-cut and simple, black-and-white, if you will, but more often than not they are not, they're grey. It's always a good idea to keep this in mind.

You see, not only can we humans know, we can know better. We have conceptual -- often, moral -- categories of right & wrong and good & evil, preferences & dislikes, positive & negative prejudices, sympathies & antipathies, and more. If asked point-blank to explain the criteria for any of these, we most often soon have trouble making ourselves clear. They are not always hard and fast, clear-cut, easily describable criteria, and we soon realize that the boundaries tend to be fluid depending on context, prior history of participants, their closeness or distance to ourselves, and many other factors.

No one ever said it was easy, but I'm here to tell you that it is necessary to get a firmer handle on whatever it is we think we believe ... in regard to ourselves and certainly in regard to others. More often than not, even the best of us get in our own way. We can be our own best friends, and our own worst enemies.

Difference obligates

When a horde of locusts sweeps over a land destroying all the vegetation in its path, neither the horde nor the individual locusts have any idea that they are destroying at all. They are just being what they are. Many in the world would consider them pests that need to be eradicated, others hear of locusts and think of a fried-peanut-like delicacy, and far too many people think absolutely nothing at all, because they weren't directly affected one way or the other.

When a horde of marauders or bandits or whomever sweeps over a land destroying everything in its path, both the horde and the individuals within it know perfectly well that they are destroying. They are not being simply what they are, they are being what they, at that moment, want to be. Those affected by their actions certainly see them as more than just pests that need to be eradicated. Others hear of what has happened and think how awful, and far too many people think absolutely nothing at all, because they weren't affected one way or the other.

The difference between the actions of all involved in both cases is that we can tell the difference between what just is and what needn't be. Another difference is that we can hear about both, regardless of how far away we might be. In other words, we know; we are aware; the event has become part of our individual experience, perhaps not radically or existentially, but a part nevertheless. Fish don't know about locusts, and neither do most other animals. But we know because we're different. We are capable of knowing. That makes all the difference in the world.

Whereas a bear or a dog or a fish may simply go on about its business, we can't. We would never expect the bear or the dog or the fish to react at all because we know they don't know about locusts or marauders so it would truly be unfair for us to expect them to care. We, however, are different. We know. We know the difference, because we are different, and that difference obligates.

When you know, when you have been made aware, you can no longer claim ignorance as a defense. Once you know, you are involved ... perhaps only tangentially, perhaps only remotely, but you are involved. Sure you can maintain that you're half-a-world away so what could you do? Quite a few of those that are helping those people, though, often come from half-a-world away. So why should we allow you that excuse? You can claim you're just one person, what effect could you have? But you have no friends? You know no one? You live in a bubble?

But, hey, we don't even have to go that far: what about the homeless person you pass on the way to work? The street musician you love to hear but cross to the other side of the street so you don't have to toss anything into her hat? What about the guy next door who keeps beating his wife or girl friend? What about, well, anything you know and do absolutely nothing about? Yes, what about it?

A significant difference between us and the animals is simply that we can know. But when you know and you do nothing, you aren't doing anyone a favor, especially not yourself. You are simply denying your own humanity.

The human part

It seems to me that the only creatures on the planet who aren't pulling their weight, so to speak, are us. Yes, we humans have been and continue to drop the ball. Our mineral and vegetative co-inhabitants can't do otherwise, and my point in the last post was no more than our animal cousins are doing their part as well. Chimps are being chimps, dolphins are being dolphins, dogs are being dogs, and on and on and on. The only creatures in the Grand Scheme who are -- at least to my mind -- are not living up to their potential and possibilities are us. We humans, who should be at least a contributor to the solution, are in fact the root of a great number of problems. Why? Because we -- for whatever reasons -- refuse to be what are, namely human.

We don't have to agree on the whole spectrum of things that make us what we are, so we can take any of them at random and ask whether we are somehow exhibiting that characteristic. For example, self-awareness: I wouldn't argue that most people are aware of themselves; I would maintain, however, that too many of us are too aware of ourselves ... it's called egotism. Or, let's take questioning: most people I know can handle asking for directions, but things break down quickly as soon as they ask themselves why are we here, or why do humans exist. A completely different kind of question, is it not? Or, how about morality, knowing the difference between right and wrong: there things start breaking down -- rates of incarceration, violent crime, war, torture, abuse ... the list goes on. And if we take it to the next level and think about acting accordingly, we really find little, if any, support: bankers know they are scamming their customers, but they do it unreservedly till the economy crashes causing pain and suffering to millions of people ... and then do it again, the first chance they get.

This is what I mean about being human. We know that we're destroying the planet and the environment, but we have (or those with enough influence and power have) made the decision that money is more important. It is that simple. That 100 people should enjoy a short-term benefit even though billions should suffer is not exactly what I understand under "living up to one's potential". Good and bad doesn't have to be about anything big. We can literally start small: admitting we were wrong, pulling back when we realize our egos are storming ahead, choosing a less harsh way of criticizing another person ... here, too, the list is endless. What is more, a lot of little people could get together to make (alleged) big people aware of the damage they are causing (i.e., the bad they are doing) and getting them to stop.

There are many things about us that constitute our humanity, what makes us human. They are everyday things. Things we, for the most part, take for granted, because they come so naturally to us. When I admonish all of us to live up to our potential, it is any and all of these things that I'm talking about.

There are two parts to being human, then: to acknowledge what makes us different from our animal cousins, and to start trying to act accordingly. It's really not all that difficult when you stop to think about it.

Everybody's got a part to play

The admonition to "be human" is all well and good, but I'm fairly sure that we all don't mean the same thing when we say it. This is one of those simple, everyday phrases that flow over our lips ever so lightly, but are nevertheless exceptionally hard to grasp and hard to wrap our heads around. So just what am I talking about? Fair enough question.

For those who may have missed it or those who still aren't sure, let me say it again: I do not believe that human beings are "just" animals, or just animals who can talk or ... fill in any blank you like. Having said that, I also would hasten to add that I don't consider human beings better than any other living creature on Earth, I don't consider us "special" in any meaning of the word (even the negative ones), I don't think we are any more than what we are: humans, a very different species that is just as embedded in Nature as are dogs or cats or amoebas. So why all the fuss?

It's very simple really: since we are different, since we have abilities and capabilities that other living creatures do not have, such as awareness of our self-awareness, refined, complex, and subtle language capabilities (e.g., tenses, the ability to question), and since we have created such an subject as morals and morality (in simplest terms, knowing the different between good and bad), in order to warrant the distinction of being called "human", we are required, obligated, condemned (?) to exhibit precisely those characteristics that make us different from other living creatures.

I don't know about you, but I never expected Charley the Chimp or Flipper the Dolphin or Fido the Dog to find a cure for cancer or paint a Mona Lisa or write the Great American (or any other) Novel. I also never expected any of them to preach the Sermon on the Mount or understand and advocate living in accordance with the Ten Commandments or the Golden Rule (in any of its variations) or to prove the existence of the Higgs boson. And I also don't know about you, but I don't think any less of any of them for not being able to do that. It's not their thing, and it need not be their thing. They have other, equally important and significant, roles to play in Creation or Nature or Reality or whatever else you may want to call it. When we take a step back from our subject, we quickly realize that in this wonderfully diverse chaos we call The World, there are a lot of roles to be played and a lot of functions to be fulfilled, and no single species or entity can do any more than what it -- individually and collectively -- is able to do.

And it there that we find the rub. You see, the chimps and dolphins and dogs and whatever else do everything they need do. They fulfill their own reason for being. They play their parts in the Grand Scheme of Things and make their contributions to the balance of the Universe. For my part, I'm convince that they can't do otherwise, but that doesn't lessen their contribution to that balance one little bit. They are what they, they are true to their nature and they do their part to ensure that things are as they are. For that, we should be eternally grateful.

Flogging, fogging, and finding our way

There are no doubt some who think I'm flogging a dead horse, or at least it seems to be so. That's not what's going on. There are some things in life, this this shared Reality of ours, that are simply very difficult to grasp, simply because the things in question are things we simply take for granted. No one should ever underestimate the power of taking something for granted.

The minute we take something for granted, we consider it a "given". It's one of those things that we can't imagine could ever be questioned in any way. They are simply instances of "the way things are", and they are things that we, individually or collectively, can do nothing about. And nothing could be farther from the truth.

For as much as we might like to think, and for as much as "science" may want us to believe, that we are "just animals", that's not how things are. For those philosophers among you who are asking whether we can really know anything at all, I can only say, yes we can. We know that we have a lot of characteristics that we share with other animals, especially primates, but there are just simply a few things about us that make us different. Viva la difference. It's the difference that, well, makes the difference.

We need to be clear on this. Without interpreting in any way, shape or form, human beings are simply different. Our degree of self-awareness (not self-awareness per se), the intensity of our language capabilities (not just having or not having a "language), our ability to point and beware of "the other", our ability to be aware of and plan for the future, to question, to speculate and hypothesize, to create art for its own sake are all indications that we simply are not just like other animals. It's OK that it is that way. We don't need to be "just" animals, but if we are not, we should, at a minimum, be true to whatever it is we are, and that, in the end, is human.

Humans, it should be noted, are the only creatures who possess the notion of "inhuman", which is very different from the notion of, say, "non-human". We recognize these distinctions in the simplest forms of expression, in the concepts we use (and in this case, this concept can be found in all languages, not just English). Whereas "non-human" may merely distinguish us from our animal cousins, a word, a notion, a concept, such as "inhuman" carries with it -- in every language -- a negative connotation. When we hear the word, we know what is meant is not good. To be inhuman is to act in a way that negates (or ignores) one's own humanity.

Again, I'm not making a case for a special treatment or consideration of humanity. I believe we are, just like all other species, sentient or not, part of a greater configuration we call Nature, or Reality, or whatever. We have to acknowledge, however, that we know we are a part of it, that we know we are different, and this knowledge obligates us to act accordingly. It's not a matter of well-that's-just-how-things-are, rather, we need to behave in a manner commensurate with our difference. We need to be human.

Tomorrow's Bastille Day

Tomorrow, though most of my francophobic (Freedom fries?) countrypeople don't know it, is Bastille Day. This is the French equivalent of America's 4th of July: a great day for praising one's own greatness (which the Grande Nation is very adept at, like their American cousins) and for celebrating one's accomplishments (even if they are drenched in blood). More than anything, it makes a great day for flag-waving. That makes July a pretty red-white-and-blue month, I suppose.

Far be it from me to pick on the French. Even they don't necessarily want to speak English when I'm there, and even if they do frown upon my speaking German, I like France; I particularly like Paris, Bordeaux, and Avignon, where I have been fortunate enough to spend more time. No, the French, as much as anybody, perhaps even rivaling Americans, are deeply imbued with that, as Einstein called it, "infantile disease" called Patriotism.

As I pointed out just a few posts ago, Americans may be suffering from a terminal case of the disease, but the French are not far behind. There are lot of others, like the British, the Dutch, the Russians, the Chinese, just to name a few, who are not far behind. Like I said then, I don't get it. I just don't understand it. There have been a lot of disastrous things happen in the course of human history, and most of them have been perpetrated either by religions or countries (or what we, in retrospect, call countries or nations). Whatever truly great things that have happened in the course of human history, like the mastery of fire, the discovery of the wheel, the finding of a cure for some terminal disease, have all been done by individual human beings (with the huge support of other human beings from other countries and other cultures). It's not the country that makes the difference, it's the person.

When you look around you to see what is great about the world you live in, you'll always find that, first and foremost, it was brought to you by another person. People matter. Not organizations, not localities, not tribes, not regions and not countries ... people matter. I don't know why that is so hard to grasp, but apparently it is.

The real difference, in my mind, between people and countries is simple: people are here now; they are with you; you can feel, smell and touch them; they are real and concrete. Nations, on the other hand, are mere abstractions. They serve their purpose, to be sure, but it is a small purpose in contrast to what another human being can do for you.

Think about it.