It's no wonder the world's in such bad shape

For all the wailing and gnashing of teeth that has gone on in the last week, we've got damn little to show for it. That little fiasco did, however, make a number of things clearer than most would like to admit, but they're not necessarily the ones we like to think.

You may not want to admit it, but Emma Goldman was right: If voting changed anything, they'd make it illegal.

Great Britain said they wanted out of the EU. There's not even the slightest hint that the process is even being seriously considered. The Tories apparently have to get their house in order. Why? What as it in before? It wasn't this vote that split it. The pranks and psychoses that were there before are now simply going to involve other people. None of this has anything to do with sovereignty or immigrants or lack of democracy on the Continent. The Brits have just as much democracy as anyone else: none. We're simply back to business as usual.

Believe me, I'm not picking on the Brits. They merely brought a couple of issues to the surface. As I noted recently, the US can't even pretend to have a democracy in any meaningful sense of the word. Though that doesn't stop them or their pundits from piping up. Both Juncker and Merkel this week have shown they have absolutely no intention of getting democratic about anything. Even people who think they did things right get to do them over again if the right people insist on it. Nothing to see here: it's just business as usual.

Hell, the only people I can see trying to make a point at all are the French, and we can't won't hear a thing about it because the European Cup (the European Soccer Cup for my American readers, and believe me, it's a big sports deal, in all senses of the word) is being played and the media isn't about to ruin such a fine sporting event. After all, there are advertisers to consider on the one hand, and ... well, you know, that is even more business as usual.

It's not really my place, but I have to tell you: democracy has nothing to do with voting or elections. Nothing. They like to tell us that the term "democracy" comes from the Greek and means "rule of the people", but you should know that ever since the term has been coined, the demos was considered a "mob" and there is no self-respecting elite in the world who is going to put up with mob rule.

Personally, and I'm as about as far away from an elite as you can get, I see their point, and I also see how well they can turn us into a mob when it suits them. Just look at the Brexit fiasco. Don't get me wrong, it's the not the end result I'm calling into question, it is the process of getting there that stunk to high heaven. We really need to think twice about getting into bed with racists and bigots (with a wink here to my American friends supporting Trump) if you don't want to be lumped in with racists and bigots. Voting, though, referendums, elections ... all those nice respectable outlets we're allowed to have ... they're just games were allowed to play to get us to think we have something to say. We don't. If we did, why are the French out in the streets? They have every reason to be: their government doesn't listen to them any more than yours listens to you. They have also experienced -- up real and personal -- just how much difference an election makes.

My question is: just when are we going to get it? just when are we going to realize that all of this "working within the system" is just a rather underhanded way of keeping all of us under their thumb?

Oh, I know what a lot of you are thinking ... especially the more paranoid and those of you who consider yourself smarter and more critical than the average mob person: he's seeing conspiracies, this one; maybe we ought to get him a tinfoil hat. That's OK. You are allowed to think whatever you want regardless of how silly it is. I'm not saying that there is some organized cabal planning the oppression of the rest of us, some nefarious and shadowy group plotting our enslavement. Here is what I do know, however:

• There is not a Western government that isn't dominated by special interests.
• There is not a Western politician who isn't influenced -- for or against -- by those interests.
• There are large corporations who are willing to spend a pittance on lobbying knowing full well their return-on-lobbying-investment will be worth every penny.
• There are very, very rich people who aren't going to share a penny with anyone else if they can help it.
• Those powerful corporations driven by profit and those rich folks have much more in common with each other than the rest of us think we have with each other, even if it is only their love of money.
• Neither of these groups is what we might call "democratically inclined".

But that's "the system", as we all know it. But, you should know that I know this as well:

• The last thing they want is for US to think we might be able to do anything about it.

And they succeed, not in some grandiose, concerted, focused effort at suppression, but because it is simply too easy to get us quibbling amongst ourselves, to get us angry at each other, and to have us at each others' throats. It's so easy because they have convinced most of us that we're nothing more than individual egos seeking our own self-interest, and that we're really nothing more than losers if we think otherwise.

I'm sorry, folks, but it is really not any more complicated than that.

If change is going to come ... that is, change that in any way, shape and form is, or may be beneficial for ourselves or our children or our grandchildren ... we've got to wake up and not smell the coffee, but smell the stench of deceit, distrust and defeat that they shower upon us.

There are times when the bravest thing you can do is to just say "no". Now is one of those times.

If you don't like the world as you find it, if you don't like the world as it's being shoved down your throat, if you don't like the world that others have made for you, then it's your move. No political candidate is going to "work for you"; they're going to work for whoever pays them enough to get re-elected. No elected official is concerned about you; they are concerned about their constituencies and getting re-elected. Am I saying that there are no elected officials or politicians who are trying to make a difference? Not at all. What I am saying is that "system" is broken, so let's stop trying to fix it, but instead try setting up something new that works. What does that "something new" look like, how does it work? I have no idea, but it doesn't matter. Since when do you need me telling you what is good for you?

If you don't like the world as you find it, stop whining (or whinging, as my British friends might say) about lost opportunities and wasted votes. Get informed, get smart, get active. Most of all, start talking: to family, friends, neighbors ... figure out what is important to you and find like-minded people to help you achieve your common goals. Think big and start small, but start. And when in doubt, ignore the system. It wasn't set up for your benefit, that's for sure.

There is no one that can make a difference in the world other than yourself. Like it or not, it all starts with you. It's time you realized that and did something about it.

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.

Is there such a thing as "Western culture"?

If I take my own "definition" from last time seriously, the answer would be "no", but that would be a bit short-sighted.

The factor that stops us is the first one -- Language -- for we in the West certainly don't speak a single tongue. In the narrower sense of the term "language", this is true, but we need to step back a bit and look at the bigger picture. Linguistically, most Western languages (Hungarian, Finnish, and Basque excepted) are at least loosely related. The number of Greek and Latin-based words that have found their way into all Western languages, often in their own language-specific forms yet they are still often recognizable (e.g., the differences between philosophia-philosophie-philosophy-filosofia, etc. are not all that extravagant). Very often, key concepts are shared, even if the words themselves are different (e.g., notions like "holiday", "illness", names of body parts, etc.); that is, there is often almost a 1-to-1, word-level translation possible. Keeping in mind my admonition to look for what connects rather than what separates, we need not dismiss language outright.

Similar, but perhaps not as obvious, comparisons could be made in regard to the other factors I identified, but what interests me most is what is not obvious at all, what is so taken-for-granted, that we don't think about such things at all. This is particularly evident in the Beliefs and Customs areas: for example, that marriage is between only two people and is generally done in a ritualized manner in front of witnesses; that the roles played by men and women are asymmetric; that the individual is special; that the notion of "property" held in very high esteem; that a scientific, objective approach to problem resolution is worthwhile; that reason is a good thing; that we have at least one holiday honoring our home country and that most of the other holidays have Christian roots. When I was young, however, much of this was much more apparent and, consequently, taken even more for granted. But there are indications that the underlying cement of Western culture is starting to crumble.

Our beliefs and customs most often found their expression through the medium of religion, and that's what's changing most quickly and most deeply. Even though Christianity is anything but monolithic (i.e., three primary divisions: Catholic Protestant, and Coptic; two flavors of Catholicism (Roman and Orthodox, the latter breaking down into a growing number of subgroups); Anglican, Lutheran, Calvinist, and Pentecostal Protestants, the latter three having split into innumerable specific denominations, as well as special-cases like Mormonism. What binds them together is much, much less than what makes them different. In times past, most people were either unaware or unconcerned about the differences, but these days, they are playing an increasingly important, decisive, and divisive role. Couple this with a dramatic rise in the number of individuals declaring themselves atheist (whereby, the vast majority of these are, I believe, merely agnostics), and a growing number of people who more or less reject religion altogether in favor of a much less clearly defined "spirituality", and it soon becomes rather obvious that what made us in the West a WE is rapidly losing its cohesive strength.

As is so often the case, these factors, trends, and developments are neither good nor bad, but that our thinking make it so. The current attempts to unify the West religiously to combat what is perceived as a more monolithic religious threat (e.g., Islam) clearly show just how disconnected we've all become. Maybe it is time to finally drop the notion of a "Western culture" all together. The world is getting smaller by the day, so perhaps it is really time to starting thinking more about what we can and do share and stop worrying at all about what makes us different. Deep down, we're hardly different at all.

What, then, is "culture"?

Nations are new. Cultures are as old as humanity's presence on the planet. There are, indeed, various kinds of cultures: tribal, local, regional, corporate, national, or transnational even. When we think and speak of "culture" these days, we almost automatically think of a "national culture", but only because we are often ignorant of all that history, anthropology, ethnology, and sociology may have to offer us. I'm not going to try to fill that gap, I'm merely going to point out a few salient features of "culture", because our ignorance is causing a lot of misery in a lot of lives.

In simplest terms, a culture is the language, customs, beliefs, and actions of a given group of people who feel bound together because of those four things.

1. Language is a strong component, to be sure. This is why one often speaks of the Anglo-American culture (which also includes, oddly enough, the Australians, and for some, the South Africans, but not necessarily (or at least not consciously, the Belize), or the German culture, whereby the language is spoken as well in Austria and parts of Switzerland, and these are included in the concept.
2. Customs describes "the way we do things around here". It includes holidays, like a big, family meal at Thanksgiving, or Santa Claus (or whoever brings Christmas gifts); and sports (baseball, football, soccer, lacrosse); and little things like whether people shake hands when they meet, and more.
3. Beliefs include the stories and myths that a particular group holds dear, be it the Pilgrim Fathers, Charlemagne, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, etc. These may be religious in nature, but they can also be secular and profane, like owning guns is a fundamental right, or all persons are created equal, or property rights trump personal rights.
4. Actions are what really defines a culture, though. These are the things a group does, not only because that's the way they do things, but because they believe they have a right to do them. It's not only the way a group acts towards others, but because they have always been able to act that way. In other words, the customs and beliefs often drive what a culture thinks it's OK, good, right and proper to do.

I would be the last person to say what a given culture says, believes, or does is good or bad or right or wrong. All I know is that there are a lot of different ways to slice the reality pie. What I also know, however, that there are way too many cultures on this small planet which think that however it is that they have decided to slice that pie is the "right" way, the "proper" way, the only "reasonable way" to slice it. My only response to that is, well, "bullshit".

Beneath, behind, and beyond whatever we think our culture "entitles" us to, we need to recognize the simple, unalterable fact that everything any of us, individually or collectively, say, believe, and in particular, do has effects on others; that is, anyone other than ourselves or our (cultural) group. We forget that all too often.

Whatever we think is good, right and proper is only what we think is good, right and proper. Some values are universal (not harming others, for example), but even these can be relativized once we start thinking that "our" culture is "better" than "their" culture. Unfortunately, that's where we are today.

We believe we are the good ones, and those "others", well, they're the bad ones. It turns out, however, that they are merely the others whether we like it or not, whether we want to admit it or not. Knowing what that otherness is and understanding what we have in common rather than what separates us are the true marks of the cultivated, civilized person. No more, no less.

Is there culture beyond yoghurt?

Our English word "culture" derives from the Latin cultus which means more or less "tilling, cultivating, tending". The very roots of civilization can be recognized as it was when humans first learned to systematically till and cultivate the soil, to farm, that they initiated what we today refer to as "history": the story, the narrative of where we as a species have been. That, of course, is the most general, all-encompassing view of the situation.

There are individual, isolated and particular histories as well. At the other extreme we have individual histories, which we no longer call such, but rather call biographies. Just about any geographical region that you can name, has its own, often oral history. And, since the late 17th century, we find the development of national histories as well, many of which are intertwined. The history of the United States in unthinkable without the history of Great Britain, and its history is tightly interwoven with that of the Portuguese, Spanish and French, all of which were greatly influenced by the history of Rome and Greece, and voila we've got the makings of Western Civilization.

These histories don't only describe what this or that person or this or that group have done, they also describe means of expression (statuary in Greece and Rome, painting in the Renaissance, music in the 18th and 19th century, just to intimate some readily recognizable motifs), rules of interaction (e.g., Roman law), and institutions (in the West, primarily the Church) which have left an indelible impression on how we do things, how we express and how we organize ourselves, and, not the least, what we believe.

When we stop to reflect upon such things, they come into much sharper relief than usual. Our everyday mode of interaction with them is on the contrary subliminal, unconscious, assumed, or simply taken-for-granted. Whatever it is that makes a culture, however, takes time, long periods of time. There is never just one thing that distinguishes one culture from another, that's for sure. They consist of an amalgamation of traditions, legacies, stories, works of art and language, and more that operates so far beneath the threshold of consciousness that we have difficulty saying what they are. And many of them sit so deep, so firm that we have trouble recognizing them even when they are specifically pointed out to us.

What appears to happen, though, when someone, like Mdme Thatcher, rips the heart of the economic-political-social-religious-cultural matrix is that the entire edifice collapses and we end up with an every-person-for-themselves situation: John grasping firm to the political, Joan to the cultural, Jane to the religious, and Jim to economic. We become like the blind men describing the elephant, as a tree (if all you can feel is a leg) or a snake (if you happen to be holding the trunk) or a rope (if you've got the tail). We've got all of the pieces but no keystone to hold it all together.

How does a "we" become a mere "me"?

Although it has been a while, I've dealt with the notion of "Advent", what it's about, how it not only marks a change of seasons, but also what it means in a yearly sense.

There's no real need to rehash old themes. This year is not all that different from previous ones: there's too much trouble, pain, strife, war, death, and suffering going on out there; the greedy still can't get enough; the poor are still looked down upon, if they're not outright despised; the first salvos in the so-called "war" on Christmas have already been fired; and my own desire to hear a collective voice of reason in the hectic remains unfulfilled. Too few people care ... about any of what this "season" should bring; and even fewer are willing to budge even an inch out of their own self-righteous comfort zones to fill the season with any kind of reason.

Margaret Thatcher, the Female Godhead of Neoliberalism, maintained -- and her acolytes and adherents proclaim -- that there is no such thing as society; it is merely a collection of individuals. That is unchallenged dogma in the meantime, and even the briefest glimpse at anything calling itself news confirms its "truth". But, religions -- and neoliberalism has taken on this mantle -- cannot exist apart from cultures, so that is the next falsehood that must be destroyed, and all of us worldwide, though more markedly we in the West, are rallying to the Call for Destruction. Just like the often illiterate and ignorant destroyers of culture known as ISIS, even we non-military, supposedly peace-loving, non-violent types are just as effective as they are at destroying common history as well.

Without a society; that is, without some kind of social grouping that views itself as "us", it is difficult to imagine a culture forming. A culture, in this sense, the linguistic, artistic, musical, literary, and value-oriented backdrop that provides the context in which a given group can function. In certain regards it is all those unspoken rules, guidelines, customs and mores that let everyone knew "how things are done around here". That group will then organize itself in relation to other groups in civil (political) and economic (commercial) ways. Politics and commerce are, by their very nature, unable to support culture. Given the influence she enjoyed throughout the West, when Mdme Thatcher conceptually eliminated "society", she did as much to destroy our culture as Muslim radicals do when they go around blowing up cultural heritage sites or chiseling facades off of walls. We readily recognize the one, and deal very ineptly with the other.

Though only one example, it is indicative of why we find ourselves in crisis these days ... and everything has become a crisis. Whatever it was that made us "us" has been so weakened, so debilitated that we're left primarily with ourselves. And individuals are never a sound basis upon which to build.

An iceberg sunk the Titanic, and it could happen to us

The thing about icebergs is you can't see most of what they are, but they're there anyway. The thing about prejudices is that you don't know where they come from, but they're there anyway. The thing about stereotypes is that you don't know why you believe them, but you believe them anyway. The thing about myths is that you don't know where they come from, but you believe them anyway as well. Just like we don't know how to account for 75% of the mass of the visible universe, we can't account for the motivations for most of what we believe and what makes us act the way we do.

Truth be told, we don't know what we're doing, nor why we're doing it most of the time. Why is that?

Sigmund Freud, G-d bless him, opened Pandora's box at the turn of the last century. We can think what we want about his theories on how the mind works, but one thing you can't take away from him is his insight into the fact that the unconscious determines much more of what we do and how we act than we would like to admit ... well, more than we are willing to admit. No, Siggie didn't get a whole lot right, but in that regard, he hit the proverbial nail smack on the head.

Just because we "know" this, doesn't mean for a second that we've done anything about it. Most of us are still driven by our unconscious. More of us are Mr. Hydes than we are Dr. Jekylls, whether we want to admit it or not. Why is that? Well, quite simply because we are (truly) afraid of shining the light of day (or knowledge or truth) on the dark (that is, unknown, unconscious, repressed) part of ourselves.

We like to think we are good, upstanding, and humane, yet, at night, when we turn off the lights, in the twilight prior to sleep, we are plagued by the ghosts of fear (of others), hate (of Muslims, or ), uncertainty (about how we're seen by others), guilt (perhaps someone has seen through our personal facade), and simple trepidation (how do we continue to keep up appearances). Our problem is that what we proclaim to be good, right, and proper is based on unconscious assumptions and beliefs that most of us don't even know we have. In other words, we have our own (personal) myths that we hold to be true.

In some cases, these myths tell us that we are the "good guys", that what we do is for the best of all, that our history is one of benevolence and enlightenment, that our intentions were always pure and that our actions, even when they fell short of their goal, were unselfish and noble. Yes, that is what we would like to believe, but for those who have taken the time to look honestly and intently in the mirror, we know that the reality has fallen rather short of the desire.

We in the West are not alone in this. It is, it would seem, a universal illness of our age. We like to think we are informed, knowledgeable, enlightened, even wise. And so our myths get a bad name, because we accept them blindly, without thinking, without consciousness.

Myths, however, are real, and they are true in that realm in which they operate. What we also need to know is that we must engage them as they are, and unlike the unmovable and unbreakable iceberg that sunk the world's mightiest ship, we can reshape and remold them into those stories who unfortunately tell us who we are, but mercifully, can show us who we really want to be.

False dichotomies

We all like to think we're free ... we're not. We like to think we're secure ... we're not. We like to think we know something ... we don't. We like to think we can handle things ... we can't. We like to think we're on top of things ... we aren't. We like to think we have a say in what's going on ... we don't. We like to think we ... well, we like to think whatever we think.

Elections were just held in America. Did anything change? Nope. The Europeans are getting restless about TTIP. Has anything changed? Nope. The crisis in the Ukraine has been mollified by recent elections. Is the situation less tenuous? Nope. ISIS is still on the march. Are we any safer? Nope. The climate is changing. Are we any closer to a solution? Nope. The banking industry is acting as crazy as they were before the last crash. Are we going to see the next one coming? Nope.

We like to think we live in democratic societies. Do we? Nope. We like to believe that we're the good guys (politically, religiously, economically ... and I'm talking about the West here). Are we? Nope. We want to believe that everyone's out to get us (because we're the "good guys"). Are they? Nope. We like to think that we have a say in what's going on (wherever it is we happen to be living). Do we? Nope. We want to believe that things are going to get better. Are they? Nope. We want to believe that our children will have it at least close to as good as we had it. Will they? Nope.

Taken in isolation, none of these things is all that bad. It's the fact that we have to deal with all of them all at once that makes us uneasy. As good, everyday moderns, we think that things should either be one way or the other. Truth be told, it's hardly ever that way. That whole "50 shades of gray" thing was off the mark and beside the point. There's a lot more shades of gray and we have to deal with them every single minute of every single day of our lives.

The result? We end up creating false dichotomies that we have have to deal with and that we don't really understand: liberal/conservative, democracy/totalitarianism, capitalism/socialism, givers/takers, friend/enemy, saved/damned, freedom/slavery ... and the list goes on and on. Who really knows the difference? Where do we accurately draw the line? How do you really tell one from the other? To me, these are all legitimate questions that demand legitimate answers, or how am I to understand the drone-killing, war-waging, president who got more money from Wall Street than any of his predecessors being called a Marxist-socialist-imperial-dictator? It just doesn't make sense, but a lot of things don't make sense to me anymore. I used to think it was because I didn't understand, but I'm coming to realize that a whole lot of people who are claiming to know something, in fact don't know very much at all.

No, dear reader, the weirdness index is simply rising.

I would like to think

... that things aren't as bad as I think they are, that things are getting better, that we're somehow "getting it", that we're moving "forward" (whatever that means) or "making progress", that we're somehow more secure, smarter, or wiser than we used to be. But, alas, we're not.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that things used to be better and that we need to turn back the clock or calendar, or whatever. They weren't. We shouldn't. What I am saying is that you would think that we might have solved a couple of problems by now, but in truth we haven't. Think about it. Oh sure, we have a supposed cure for this or that illness, but it's only available to those who can afford it, and most can't; there are more people worldwide suffering from hunger than ever before; the extremes of poverty and wealth are getting more extreme; there hasn't been a year of my life (and I'm not youngster anymore) in which there hasn't been a war somewhere (and most likely in which my country of birth has been seriously involved); prices have never really ever gone down; and more than one economy in which I have been participating has tanked more than once.

It makes you think. Well, it makes me think, at any rate. But it's not getting any easier to make sense of it all.

Far be it from me to think that I'm some kind of isolated case. I'm not. Most of the people with whom I have to do, day in and day out, have historical biographies much like my own. For those of us who were once "in the middle", things aren't all that rosy. For those of us who got an above-average education without having to leverage the rest of lives, we realize that no matter who's in power, their power seems to somehow increase, while ours seeps away before our very eyes. For those of us who still like to think that we can think, well, I would like to think that we're not as dumb as so many would like us to be. But I'm starting to have my doubts. Serious doubts.

For almost a decade-and-a-half, I lived and worked in Silicon Valley in California. There were lots of bright people running around, to be sure. Some of them are rich beyond our wildest dreams today. Some are poorer than church mice. Some had the most clever ideas for products and services. Some believed the weirdest stuff that you can imagine. You would think that I most like had seen and heard it all. But I haven't. Today's world is weirder, crazier, more unpredictable, more elusive than anything I saw, heard, or experienced there. Why is that?

To be perfectly honest, I'd really like to know. From time to time in these posts, I try to explore the reasons. I've not decided on anything yet, except that we're not going anywhere fast. In fact, we're not getting a grip on anything at all. So, if you'll bear with me for the next couple of posts, I would like to air some of that thinking. Maybe you'll recognize where I've missed something, overseen something, misinterpreted something.

Who knows? I would like to think ...

The 4th of July

Yes, yes, yes, it is that time again. Break out the BBQ, fire up the coals, get ready for the fireworks ... it's time to celebrate. This is a big day for Americans, that's for sure, but what is it exactly they are celebrating? This is not a question that just sprang to mind. I've been asking it for most of my life. Most Americans will tell you, it was on July 4, 1776 that America declared its independence from Britain and became a new nation (though it took a war and 13 more years to establish that fact), signaling a new era in the development of the nation-state and enshrining freedom and liberty as the hallmarks of this new phase of existence.

Now, I really don't want to rain on anyone's parade, but right here at the outset, I find myself confused. Historians agree that the Peace of Westphalia (1648) marks the birth of the modern nation-state. The USA certainly wasn't the first, and as we have seen over the course of the last 366 years, nation-states come and go. Just ask Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, the Soviet Union, if you don't believe me. There are older people in the Czech Republic who have had three different nationalities in their lifetime and they've never left their village. Just what kind of a role does the nation really play in our lives?

And how is it that these people -- or any of us for that matter -- become citizens? I have an American passport because I was born there. How did I come to be born there? The luck of the draw. There is no rational reason why I couldn't have been born in Sub-Saharan Africa or in China or Tibet, or on some Lapp island above the Artic Circle. We place absolutely no value on chance or coincidence in any other aspect of our lives, but when it comes to which passport you can get, one's place of birth is a really big deal. A mere chance event has everything to say about one's loyalties, one's obligations, and one's commitments. Why is it only applicable in this case?

OK, maybe it's about the ideas of Freedom and Liberty. Well, back there in 1776, only white, male property owners were free. There was still indentured servitude; women were chattel; slavery was not only legal but acceptable, and we were on the threshold of carrying out the systematic and ruthless genocide of all those people who were there before the Europeans came to "settle this savage land". What does freedom and liberty mean to these people? And, how free is a country with a concentration camp in Guantanamo where they can send their own citizens without due process (provisions of the NDAA)? How free is a country which brutally suppresses peace demonstrations (cf. reaction to the Occupy movement)? How free is a country that spies upon and collects data on its citizenry for no other reason than they they can? How free is a country that enslaves its more fortunate young people with life-long debt and which denies opportunites to its less fortunate (read: poor) youth? How free is a country that blatantly expects more for itself than for any other country (say, like Iraq)?

Don't get me wrong: I love holidays as much as the next fellow, maybe even more. I love celebrating and having a good time and being able to spend quality time with family and friends. You will have to excuse me, however, if I don't get all choked up and teary-eyed. I'm saving that for such a time that the USA (or any other country, for that matter) actually makes an honest attempt to live up to the ideals they claim to hold so highly. If you want me on your side, walk the walk, don't just talk the talk.

So, who are we?

It turns out, the everyday (to us), rather mundane, act of pointing, is one of humanity's most profound gestures. Only humans point. Yes, you can forget the apes and other simians who do not do it in the wild and dogs which have been specifically trained to so.) Pointing is unique to humans.

Raymond Tallis, in his fascinating book, Michelangelo's Finger, tells us that due to the physiology of our hands (in particular, fractionated finger movements: separating and unfolding of index finger), we are physically able to point at all, but pointing itself consists of four essential components. You need a

1. producer – the person doing the pointing;
2. pointer – used by the producer to do the pointing
3. pointee – that which is pointed out and
4. consumer – the one who benefits from the pointing.

What is more, pointing; that is, genuine, meaningful pointing, has three fundamental characteristics. It is, namely,

1. dialogic – interactive; that is, it is for someone else’s benefit;
2. specific – it singles out the referent, a particular pointee and
3. directional – it is away from the pointing hand.

And this what makes it uniquely human, for the act encompasses five unique points of human self-consciousness. Pointing is

1. uniquely sustained;
2. uniquely complex;
3. unique to its contents;
4. uniquely stitched together internally both within a moment and between moments and
5. uniquely interwoven with self-consciousness of others.

This last point is particularly important. The ability to point, the ease and naturalness with which we do it (babies do it and understand it before they can even speak), shows that this ability is intimately linked to the explicit awareness of one’s own body, but even more importantly, it is linked to the explicit awareness of another’s mind.

We are not just hunks of self-mobile flesh. We are not mere animals, even if we share much more of our being with our animal cousins than we may like to admit. We humans -- and it is this which provides us with the most significant and fundamental distinction to other sentient beings -- know there are others, and we know that these others are just like ourselves. To ignore or deny this is simply to deny one's humanity.

The next time you are trying to make a point, or simply pointing something out, or even merely pointing at something, you may want to keep your uniqueness in mind. Now you know, and knowledge, as it is also well known, obligates.

References
Tallis, Raymond (2011) Michelangelo's Finger: An exploration of everyday transcendence, New York, Atlantic Books.

Michelangelo's Finger

As sometimes happens, through a rather odd series of coincidences, I've been having my nose rubbed in something that's really not the centerpoint of what I need to (or should) be focusing on. This isn't a common occurrence in my life, but it's not exactly rare either, and I have learned over the years that it's better to devote some attention to it or it will come back to me in a much more demanding, if not insistent, way at some other time, most likely a time when I'll have no time for it at all. In retrospect, say, in reflecting on my recent series of postings, I can see where this has been bubbling up toward the surface.

There is no doubt in any of our minds, I'm sure, that we are -- and should be -- seen, experienced as, and taken for individuals. Though more pronounced in some than in others (whereupon it is most often referred to as an "ego"), somewhere "in there" -- in our heads, or brains, or minds, or ... -- there is something we think of, and call, an "I". It is not clear what this "I" consists of or how it comes to be, but it's pretty clear it is there. I have very materialistically perceiving friends who will be quick to tell you that whatever that "I" is, it is an illusion. After all, there is only matter, and the laws of physics and chemistry, and these do not (at least up until now) actually allow for the presence of this "I".

Some of you are shaking your heads in some kind of amazement, and I can understand that. Science is a wonderful tool and it has provided us with a lot of knowledge, but it is not the be-all and end-all of knowing. It is, as it's name implies, a way of knowing, but not the way. It is good for some things, and not so good for others. It is good when it comes to physics and chemistry, for example, but it starts getting weak in biology (has trouble dealing with the issue of "life"), and it certainly has nowhere to start when it comes to something as elusive as our I's, that is, with human consciousness in particular, but consciousness in general. Whatever makes up what I call/think/believe is my "I", it's not material, that's for sure. So, for the moment, we're just going to let the materialists stew in their own self-contradictions and move forward into this, admittedly, mysterious domain.

We don't have to delve deeply into any kind of science, or psychology, or neurophysiology. For the moment, it is sufficient that we simply stop, recognize and acknowledge that there is this thing, or person, or whatever, we call an "I". What is more, we also know -- or at least strongly suspect -- that there those others running around whom we refer to as "human beings" appear to also have such an "I" and that they, too, know they have one, and most likely suspect that we do to. I realize that this seems a bit obvious, but as I never tire of repeating: digging into the obvious, rooting into whatever it is we take for given and for granted, is an extremely rewarding, and sometimes enlightening, experience.

In other words, I'm aware of myself and I am aware of others. These others appear to be like me in that they are also aware of themselves and aware of others. And, all of us are aware that everyone else is aware. This isn't gobbelty-gook, it's a genuine starting point.

In fact, there is a very famous panel on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, entitled the Creation of Adam. It's a special painting, not only for its central placement on the ceiling, and not only because Michelangelo, who absolutely detested painting (he wanted to sculpt), painted it in a single-day, but he also painted it freehand; that is, without the aid of a charcoal tracing, which was the normal method of producing such works of art. In this picture God is about to touch Adam's index finger with his own ... or perhaps, He is merely pointing at/to Adam. What does it matter?

Saving private me

It should be obvious by now that we're not in good shape. And by "we" I mean all of us -- every single human being on the face of the planet. Yes, other people in other cultures have other pressing problems than the (let's admit it, rather high-level, comfortable) problems that we in the modern, industrialized, rich West are confronted with. The vast majority of people are the planet are still struggling with ensuring the basic necessities for themselves, so anything that we "complain" about simply pales by comparison. Still, I acknowledge that those reading this post are in a very fortunate position, even if they don't know it, recognize it, or acknowledge it themselves. It is only a matter of time, I suppose, until those "behind" us will have caught up to us, and what is more, all of us who have come as far as we have at least know what lies ahead of the others. If we wanted to, we could make their path less arduous than the one that we -- as a civilization -- have had to tread.

If ...

I stress this point for the simple reason that our wonderful Enlightenment thinking has condemned us to individuality. We think of ourselves as individuals, independent of and free from others. Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth.

We like to think that we are free and independent, but as the example with Mr. Bush showed and as we experience every day in our own little, individual lives -- from the golden handcuffs that some of us wear to the this-job-or-no-job decisions that others must make to the desperate struggle for survival that still others are confronted with -- we don't always have the choices available to us that we would like to have. No one does. We're simply not as free as we would like to think. And our everyday existence constantly reminds us that we will never be as free as we would like.

The soothing ointment in this injurious drama is more available than we think as well. Having been forced into thinking of ourselves as more individual than is necessary, we have a way out. We don't have to be rugged, completely independent individuals. (Truth be told, there are none ... this individual is every bit as fictitious as unicorns.) We are not only allowed, but at bottom we are required, to be members of communities, but only if we recognize the value, worth, and pure existence of "the other".

There is a world of difference between members of my own club or fellow fans. The Other is the one I chose to recognize and acknowledge as being like me in the most basic and essential way imaginable: as another human being. That person's culture, language, customs, mannerisms, or attitudes toward life are irrelevant. What we share is our humanness: our being lost, our having feelings and desires that remain unfulfilled, our basic needs and wants, that we share the same physical space at the same time. You are like me, and I know it.

The time has come, for any number of reasons ... be it the impending environmental catastrophe, the suffering and deprivation caused by war, the denigration suffered at the hands of political or financial interests ... to simply assert our humanness, not our individuality, for our own sakes, but, more importantly, for the sake of The Other.

The power of the unconscious

We've awakened to a world that has no meaning. Nothing really makes sense anymore. As a result, there is a (I must admit, misguided) tendency to revert to what we think we know. We think the Enlightenment thinkers knew what they were talking about. They did, I suppose ... then. But, now we have, well, now. Too much has changed in the meantime.

Whether we like Freud or not, whether we think he was correct or not, we do owe him this much: he made clear that there are "forces" at work in our lives that we can neither see nor consciously control. There is, in a manner of speaking, a good portion of unpredictability in the most reasonable and rational decisions and courses of action. This unsettles most of us. It is a cause for anxiety, and the most common reaction to this anxiety, since we really don't know where it is coming from, is to simply ignore it.

We've become experts at ignoring (or is it ignorance, I'm never really sure).

With the proliferation of media, particularly social media, we can pick and choose what we what to be confronted with. We seek out like-minded thinkers, people who share our attitudes and opinions, we look for those who are like us, not different. Sometimes they root for the same teams, brandish the same colors, or simply use skin color as a criterion of distinction. Yes, these kinds of choices run the gauntlet from harmless to destructive. It is now easy for any of us to simply get lost in the mass, to be part of the crowd, to stay below the radar of individuality. But isn't this really a problem?

On the one hand, we like to think of ourselves as individuals, of free-thinking, self-choosing and deciding persons who are the captains of our own destinies, not mere pawns of Fate, as it once was. At the same time, I don't see a lot of these independent, individual free thinkers actually standing up for anything. Social injustices, for example, are simply beyond their control. There is nothing that any of us can do about a lot of things. The economy is just the way it is ... what can we little people do about it? There are other groups (clans? tribes? ... has only the label changed?) who aren't pulling their weight, contributing their fair share, but we only pick on those who we think we're better than.

It would seem that we're right back where we started from: no, this is all not a matter of Fate, but (truth be told ... or just believed?) there's nothing that I -- as an individual -- can do about anything. Have we given up? caved in? yielded? surrendered? What have we done to ourselves? What's wrong with us? Has the unconscious risen to take the place of the fate we once displaced?

To be perfectly honest, I don't know for sure ... but, I do have my suspicions

The Enlightenment's (no doubt, well-intended) emphasis on the individual has led us to believe that everything in life is up to us as individuals. We know, however, from everyday experience, that there is too much going on, too much at stake in the world for any one of us to deal with it adequately. We're lost. We felt we've been left alone. We feel isolated and alienated. And we're right: we're all of these things. What we have lost, more than anything else, is the awareness, the knowledge, the assurance that there are others just like us, that we have more in common with others than we have certainty only within our own selves.

The promise of redemption through individuality has shown itself to be little more than the threat of our own demise.

What's really at issue

So, what's really at issue here?

It would seem that we are confronted with a number of interrelated conundrums: are we individuals or are we not? are we responsible individuals with free choice or are we not? may we be judged by our actions or only by what we say? do we get passes if we're in a high enough position and act against our own beliefs? can you do something that causes widespread grief and destruction and still be considered honorable? are we truly solely responsible for our own decisions? are there no mitigating circumstances?

These are not easy questions to answer. And there is no reason that they should be.

One of the real issues with which we are confronted at denizens of the modern, industrialized, consequently rich, Western world is that we no longer know what is right and what is wrong. There are so many mitigating circumstances with which we are all confronted. When they happen to us, they are a tragedy. When they happen to others, well, they should just learn to suck it up and deal with it. Why is that? One of the reasons, I believe, is our misunderstanding of the notion of "individuality" which was bequeathed to us by the Enlightenment.

There are some of you, I am sure, who wonder what it is that I have with the Enlightenment. I admit, I mention it quite a lot. It was an important period in our development as a species (homo sapiens, that is). It was the Enlightenment that gave us the free-willed individual. It was the Enlightenment that dethroned God and promoted Science to the arbiter of what is "true". It was the Enlightenment that introduced the "Rights of Man" (and I have purposely chosen to phrase this as the Enlightenment thinkers phrased it, not what some these days think it should be, namely "human rights"). It was the Enlightenment that demythologized the world, exalted Reason above Belief, and that displaced the human from the Center of Being, just as the Renaissance had displaced the Earth as the Center of the Cosmos. For Americans, this is a particularly beloved time, it would seem, for America's own (sacred, if not holy) Constitution is a product of the Enlightenment as well.

My concern is more mundane: it's 250 years later ... has nothing happened in the meantime? It would seem a lot has.

Just for starters, how about: the rise of the nation-state, the French Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars, the rise of capitalism and the counter-effect of Marxism, the consolidation of European powers, the introduction of evolutionary theory, the development of Freudian analysis, the discovery of relativity and quantum theory, the two-time attempted suicide of Europe (WW1 and WW2), the destruction of meaning (via post-structuralism and deconstructionism) and much, much more. All of these things have transpired, yet our thinking remains every bit as much rooted in what came before, as if none of it had happened at all.

It would seem that we've cherry-picked what we like and tried to discredit the rest. As I see it, however, that which we so gleefully discarded is now coming back with a vengeance.

Not Fate, but Free Will?

There are a couple of consequences that follow on from our elimination of -- or stated perhaps somewhat more modernly -- our supersession of Fate. For us in the West, it has meant the development of and the focus upon the individual. An individual is one who makes his or her own independent and free decisions about just about anything, from what to eat to what to become in life. We in the West love the Individual, because the very notion itself seems to endow us with unlimited freedom. And, if there is anything that Americans, in particular, love to claim that they love, well, it's Freedom. But just how free are we? Just how free can we really be?

Let's go back to Mr. Bush and his little war that I was so bothered by ... after just a little background (to explain why what I have to say is not "political"). Mr. Bush chose to run for the office of President of the United States. Mr. Bush chose a career of what used to be known a "public service". In other words, Mr. Bush -- of his own free will and accord -- chose to subject his decisions, his opinions, his actions, and the consequences thereof to public scrutiny. And, it is for this very reason that we can look at, think about, and discuss his actions independent of any political persuasions that any of us have. His defenders, of whom there are many, would maintain that he had no choice: given the events of 9/11, given the growing threat of terrorism around the world, given the increasing hostility toward America and all it may or might be perceived to stand for, he had no choice. (This is not something I'm making up hypothetically, it is an argument with which I have been actually presented.) Of course, the question arises, in light of the fact that we are free, unique and independent human beings, why he, in this particular situation, had no choice. What do we call it when we have no choice in what we do? Yes, Fate. But, (I'm pretty sure we agreed last time that) we've superseded Fate. It is our choices that determine who we are and how we are perceived.

We all should remember that I was quite open about the fact that I wouldn't have wanted to be in his shoes at the time of making that decision. On the other hand, we may also not forget that he -- as a consequence of his own free and independent choices -- did want to be in that position. Do you see the contradiction? How can you want to be in a situation of your own free will and accord and then claim that you have no choice? Either you believe we have the will to choose, or you don't ... and if you think there are degrees and shades of whatever that color our ability to choose, then it only seems reasonable to grant others that same concession.

Anyone, not just the (alleged) most powerful person in the world, can be in a position in which s/he actually has "no choice.

(And here's the political statement, and then I'll drop it: this is not a state of affairs allowed for everyone. If it were, we wouldn't have a general attitude that the poor are poor by choice, or that they stay poor by choice, or ... I think you get the point.)

So again: either things are a certain way or they are not; either individuals are free to make choices (and if the most powerful person in the world is not in such a position, then who, might I ask, is?); we are either masters (or mistresses) of our fate, or we are not. What are we?

It's not Fate ... at least not any more

Though change itself is inevitable, it is not a matter of Fate. Yes, there was a time when humankind saw things that way, but we're past that now. We (should) know that while change must (and should) be, we do have a say in which changes and to what degree they take place. It is not often that we can do this on our own, but we're not just hapless victims of whatever it might be that Life throws at us. We might not always be as in charge, as in control, as some of us might like to be, but within given limits, there is still a lot each and every one of us can do.

A lot of it, however, has to do with what we perceive is within our purview. As I never tire of saying, perception -- how we see the world around us ... very (if not, most) often, how we choose to see the world around us -- plays a significant role in what we believe we can or cannot do, what can or cannot achieve, in the world.

There are a number of people who have made this their life's work. They were struck by the discrepancy between what is and what we think things are. A lot of factors play into this. There's no question about that. But, in the end, it is still a matter of what we choose to perceive, what we choose to see, and what we believe we see. What these people have also pointed out, however, is that the great leaps and bounds of so-called "progress" are, upon closer examination, rather small, almost insignificant steps along a very long path. It is not a single road we all travel, and it turns out that there are innumerable ways for us to get off track. Not the least of which is, of course, thinking that we see something that perhaps is not there.

For example, in some recent posts, I talked about the notion of "honor" in relation to former president Bush. Needless to say, I received criticism for being political. When you look back upon what I had to say, however, it wasn't Bush's politics that were at issue. It was simply his actions measured against a notion given by a certain word, namely "honor". While in detail, what honor entails may vary between you and me, its essence is rather sound and solid. "Honor", for example, not has to do with doing what is right, it has to do with doing more than we expect as being the right thing to do. Honor, for example, is not something that obtains in and of itself, rather it is something that is perceived by others. Without others, there is no honor.

We moderns; that is, those of us who have been born post-Enlightenment, have been born into a world in which the individual has a say. Prior to the Renaissance, there is as good as no talk about, no real discussion of the individual, only groups had any meaning. Those of us who were born after Nietzsche (that is, everyone reading this post) have also been made aware that our individual will plays a huge role in what happens to us. This has become so commonplace that many of us have forgotten that this is not an absolute, but rather a relative state of affairs. While we all have such a will, not all of us are able to use it to the same extent. A poor person in a third-world country obviously has a much narrower range of opportunities than those of us who were born in the enlightened, prosperous, industrialized world. Nevertheless, we ascribe to them an independent and unique self and will, and thereby we have eliminated Fate from determining what we can and cannot, what we may and may not do.

Or have we?

... be changed?

Yes, ... be changed. Change is going to happen. That's just how things work. You can fight it, or you can be a part of it. This is one of those issues in which abstention is not an option.

Doing nothing means we will be changed. We'll have no choice, no influence on the outcome. We can only react, not act. Granted, we may not have much influence on the whole problem, but, as I pointed out last time, we always have the option of changing ourselves. And if we change ourselves, as pithy as it sounds, we have changed the world.

Now, what kind of change is within our control that might have a world-changing impact. I know that most of you figure you're pretty OK just the way you are, but I'm here to tell you that you aren't. You, me, everyone ... we all need to change, and we all need to make the same change: we have to stop putting ourselves first. What, you ask, are you talking about? My whole life revolves around others, and I'm here to tell you that it doesn't. You are the center of your own little world. We're all the centers of our own little worlds. And, that, my friends is the real issue.

We're pretty much programmed that way. From the time we can hear, we're told we have to look out for ol' #1, that if we don't take care of ourselves, no one else will, that you have to be your own person, that you can't take crap from anyone else, that you have to get yours before the others get theirs. We get it in varied and subtle ways, but we get it day and night, 24/7, on the Web, on TV, on the radio, at work, at school ... simply everywhere and everywhen.

While I will be among the first to admit that there are those of you who have done a pretty good job of resisting, but even you haven't gone far enough. For those of you who I've described quite accurately, it's obvious that you have to get started on yourselves immediately. But we all need to change, either in direction or intensity ... it doesn't matter to me, but we have to start putting others first ... not saying we put them first ... actually putting them first.

It doesn't have to be everyone all at once. This is something you can do in small steps, if great leaps are not really your thing. Pick one person a day (or week or month ... no, a year's too long) and put them before yourself: literally, figuratively, seriously. You can start local, too. No need to pick some unknown person from sub-Saharan Africa (unless that's where you happen to be), you can start with your family, friends, next-door neighbor. It doesn't matter, as long as you do it.

If we all do it, I suspect we have a chance for a better future. Yes, it means fundamentally changing the way you think, but what's wrong with that? I mean, if you always think what you always thought, you'll always get what you always got. It's that simple. Still skeptical? Fine, be that way, but when the world does go to hell in a handbasket, you won't be able to say that no body ever gave you the chance to save it. I did.

Change or ... ?

Things aren't what they used to be, and for the vast majority of us, they're not getting any better. There is not just one single thing that's bringing us all down.

It's not just that the political system is broken, or that capitalism has gone off the deep end. It's not just that we're changing the climate and destroying the planet through our addiction to plastics and oil. It's not that our schools are failing or that people are simply getting dumber. And it's not just a matter of crawling into our own little cocoons and ignoring anything in the world that doesn't quite suit us. It's not because we've lost our faith in God or that gays can marry or that women want equal pay. Oh sure, there's a bit of truth in each one of these things, and each one, in its own way, is contributing to the feelings of powerlessness and helplessness that each and every one of us feels each and every day.

Things change all the time and every one of these things has changed and will continue to change as long as we're alive. Some of them could be show-stoppers, like an environmental collapse, a large-scale armed conflict because of food or water scarcity, or perhaps a global financial meltdown. Any one of these things could happen, but these are all things that we, as human beings, have significant influence over. Fewer activities that aggravate the climate, better distribution of resources, particularly essential resources, and a more equitable financial system are all within our power. The problem as I see it, though, is that they are not within the will of most people. We think these are big-ticket items, and we're just too small, too insignificant to have any real influence on them.

In the undeveloped world, we know (or at least suspect) that too many are simply embroiled in an everyday struggle for existence. In the developed world, we see this becoming increasingly the case: rising unemployment, downward pressure on wages, unstable employment when you have it, low-wage jobs, often part-time (even if you're "lucky" enough to have more than one), rising costs of food, rent, transportation ... the list goes on and on. What can any of us little people do about all of that? That's a good question, and I can assure you, there is no easy answer.

We can choose to do nothing, and hope for the best, but we all know deep down that the best will be the worst. If any one (or more than one) of those too-big-to-do-anything-about systems fails, we'll have no choice but to merely react. And when we all react at once, it isn't going to be a pretty sight. On the other hand, even though we may not be able to directly change and of the big things, the one item over which we (should) have complete control is ourselves. Yes, in the end, regardless of what you think about any of it, it all comes down to you anyway. Change or ...

Same difference

If there is anything I love about this life and this world, it's the diversity. Really. It can't be colorful enough, diverse enough, multi-culti enough for me.

Here we are, all of us, on one small planet, somewhere in the middle of a rather small solar system, somewhere at the edge of a galaxy, in the endless vastness of space. The universe is huge and we've got pea brains. How is that supposed to work? Still, those pea brains produce enough whatever to allow us to go to the moon, cure some diseases, think about weird stuff, and also pollute the planet, destroy the atmosphere and bring ourselves to the brink of destruction. Tell me why that is, in and of itself, not worth contemplating?

In all of my musings, of course, I keep coming back to one point: even though we're all so different -- actually unique as individuals -- there is so much about us that is still the same: our feelings, our sorrows, joy, pain, desires, wishes, hopes, and aspirations. We'd all, it appears, like to live a decent life (whatever that means) and not have to worry as much as we do about as many things as we do. I get the feeling that we'd all just like to know that our children are doing OK, that they are healthy and (at least sometimes) happy, that they have enough to eat and, when the situation calls for it, can celebrate and be happy about births and marriages and birthdays and whatever else is reason for joy.

OK, I'll admit it, I haven't been everywhere. But, wherever I've been, this is what I have seen and felt that people want. From all the TV shows, documentaries and travelogues that I have read, I get the impression that this is what most people want. I'm beginning to think -- though admittedly all evidence is not yet in -- that this is somehow a feature of the human condition. I really don't know what the difference is between me, a Wall Street banker, a worker in a German factory, a French civil servant, a peasant in China or an Aborigine in Australia. Oh, our circumstances are very, very different, but how we all feel about the world around us ... well, I can't really see how different it is. We feel the same joy and pain, we suffer from the same diseases ... where is the fundamental, existential difference? I just don't see it.

On the outside, we're very different: our hair, eyes, skin, stature, build ... you name it ... are very, very different. On the inside, our intelligence, our attitude, our self-understanding, our face-to-the-world ... if you know what I mean ... are very different as well. But deep down ... and I mean really deep down, at the core of our being, at that space-time that defines us as being "human" ... well, I'm not sure there's all that much difference at all. I haven't been able to locate that difference, but I've sought far and wide. I've tried to find it in every person I have ever met. But, as it turns out, the more I look, the more I find out that in the most important, essential and deepest ways, there just isn't a lot of difference between Mike and Jane and Michele and Rolf and Dimitry and Joanna, and Jose and Qiang and Kwame and ... well, you get the point.

It takes a while before you realize that we're really not all that different from one another. And it takes a little longer to realize that we're all more alike that different. But once you do, I can assure you, the world becomes a simpler place, and as a result, it becomes a better, more livable place as well.