'Twas always thus
Things aren't like they used to be--and they probably never were. --- Will Rogers
O, the times! O, the customs! --- Cicero
O, the times! O, the customs! --- Cicero
Confined to the World
Decades ago, my uncle Harry retired to a town much too small to have
its own newspaper. However, always keen to be well informed, he subscribed to the closest "big city" daily, the Tulsa World,
and proudly claimed to "read every page each morning." Surely
there was some hyperbole in that, but he had the leisure time
to carefully study the news. Harry would have been as
knowledgeable of current affairs as was realistically possible for his
time and place. But there was no Internet in those days. What he knew
of national and international events was generally limited to whatever
the Associated Press chose to send out, and of that, whatever the World chose to print. Most news about state government came from the
newspaper's State Capitol bureau. The editorial page reflected the paper's ideology. Harry
would have known to allow for the World's political stance (strongly
conservative back then; liberal now) but he had little means to
fact-check what he read or to obtain other points of view.
If Harry returned to earth today he
would be amazed by Internet's unending torrents of facts and
argument from every corner and perspective. He could, for example,
easily access Jon Ham's
splendid essay, The Platformate Style of Reporting,
on the mainstream media's selectivity of focus. Ham cites "a few recent
examples"
of "squelching of key facts to push an agenda." His examples are not
trivial; they all involve stories the press has given a great deal of
time and ink. Among them are the failures to address the
question of whether Valerie Plam actually was a covert agent or to
expose the contradictions in Joseph Wilson's various claims. The media
was uninterested in Jamie
Gorelick's conflict of interest as a member of the 9/11 Commission. Key
facts in the stem cell debate have been omitted or
misreported. References to the Kyoto treaty rarely disclose that the
Senate defeated it by a 95 - 0 vote, or that the Clinton administration
gave it only lip service. A deaf ear is turned to eminent scientists
who raise doubt about "global warming" and its adverse
effects. Articles often don't distinguish
between immigration and illegal immigration, leaving the impression that those who want to secure our borders must be racist xenophobes.
It's easy to think of additional examples. The federal, state and local response to hurricane Katrina was grossly misreported. Almost all media ignored or trashed the Swift Boat Veterans' disclosures about John Kerry's military service. Major news services and outlets ran photos from the Israel-Hezbollah war that even a casual inspection would have revealed fakery. Almost daily, there is another egregious instance of slanted and/or seriously deficient coverage of important topics. It's no wonder ratings and circulation numbers are falling. So we wonder: will Big Journalism become responsible before it becomes obsolete?
It's easy to think of additional examples. The federal, state and local response to hurricane Katrina was grossly misreported. Almost all media ignored or trashed the Swift Boat Veterans' disclosures about John Kerry's military service. Major news services and outlets ran photos from the Israel-Hezbollah war that even a casual inspection would have revealed fakery. Almost daily, there is another egregious instance of slanted and/or seriously deficient coverage of important topics. It's no wonder ratings and circulation numbers are falling. So we wonder: will Big Journalism become responsible before it becomes obsolete?
Flags For the Fourth
It's
something we've learned to expect: a day or so before the Fourth, when
we arise and go out to retrieve the newspaper, we'll find each house in
the neighborhood has acquired a little flag by the curb. We never see
the people who place the flags, but their identity is no mystery:
a slip of paper affixed to the miniature flagpole informs us a
local real estate broker wishes us an enjoyable Independence Day. To be
sure, some commercial objective is being pursued. But so what?
Patriotism must also be a powerful motivation; perhaps the dominant
one. In any event the gift of the flags is still a wonderful gesture,
and one that is greatly appreciated by most if not all of the
recipients. Around here we know the true meaning of Old Glory, and
trust that the promise it has expressed for two centuries will continue
to be America's great mission.A Peek Behind the Curtain
Forget those celluloid depictions of eager-beaver newspaper
reporters, feverishly snooping all about town for their next scoop.
Most of the stories published in the papers are handed to them by wire
services, public relations firms or individuals who want to publicize
something. Compiling the "news" is essentially cut-and-paste work.
On occasion the sourcing is apparent, but rarely is it so obvious as
with a piece on a Highland Games event published in our local
Daily Deadtree. The article closed with this revealing sentence:
To hear more from Cook about the sheaf toss and his technique, click on
the audio to the right.
The Secular Religion
Why does Europe have devout faith in the Kyoto Protocol as if it was
inscribed on tablets brought down from Mount Sinai? Nigel Lawson
explains:
...in Europe...climate change absolutism has found the most fertile soil. For it is Europe that has become the most secular society in the world, where the traditional religions have the weakest popular hold. Yet people still feel the need for the comfort and higher values that religion can provide; and it is the quasi-religion of green alarmism and what has been termed global salvationism — of which the climate change issue is the most striking example, but by no means the only one — which has filled the vacuum, with reasoned questioning of its mantras regarded as a form of blasphemy ...
Connections to the Cosmos ... but Commonness of Character
Cambridge mathematician John D. Barrow:We are made of complicated atoms of
carbon, nitrogen and oxygen, along with many others... The nuclei of
all these atoms do not come ready-made with the Universe. They are put
together by a long slow-burning sequence of nuclear reactions in the
stars.
It takes almost 10 billion years for this stellar alchemy to burn hydrogen to helium, and on to beryllium, and carbon and oxygen and beyond, before the dying stars explode in supernovae and spread their life-giving debris around the Universe where it finds its way into grains of dust, planets, and ultimately into people. The nucleus of every carbon atom in our bodies has been through a star.
The most precise and reliable knowledge we have about anything in the Universe is of events in a binary star system more than 3,000 light years from our planet and in the sub-atomic world of electrons and light rays, where we are accurate to better than nine decimal places.
And curiously, our greatest uncertainties all relate to the local problems of understanding ourselves - human societies, human behaviour, and human minds - all the things that really matter for human survival.
It takes almost 10 billion years for this stellar alchemy to burn hydrogen to helium, and on to beryllium, and carbon and oxygen and beyond, before the dying stars explode in supernovae and spread their life-giving debris around the Universe where it finds its way into grains of dust, planets, and ultimately into people. The nucleus of every carbon atom in our bodies has been through a star.
The most precise and reliable knowledge we have about anything in the Universe is of events in a binary star system more than 3,000 light years from our planet and in the sub-atomic world of electrons and light rays, where we are accurate to better than nine decimal places.
And curiously, our greatest uncertainties all relate to the local problems of understanding ourselves - human societies, human behaviour, and human minds - all the things that really matter for human survival.
Terrible? No.
Here are a couple of gut-wrenching pictures:
Oh, you say they're not terrible? Then you are probably not a fervent Muslim, and you are certainly not an Islamofascist Muslim. Because both images--the one on the left is from medieval Islamic literature (note the halo), and the other is one of the notorious Danish cartoons--depict the Prophet Mohammed. Those cartoons (but not their counterparts from centuries ago) are the object of angry protests, rioting and murderous violence. Americans have difficulty understanding such responses. After all, we're accustomed to newspapers running a picture of a crucifix submerged in urine or a dung-covered Virgin Mary, and being told that such a "work" is Important Art deserving respect. The faintest objection to that sort of thing is attributed to religious fanaticism and labeled a threat to the artist's constitutional right of expression. In contrast, threats to decapitate Danish artists have led opinion leaders in Western democracies to express sympathy with Muslim sensitivities. Practically no American newspapers have reprinted the cartoons. Publishing images of the Prophet, it is said, is wrong; free speech shouldn't be that free. Well, wait a minute! The First Amendment was adopted to protect our liberty to say something even though another may not want to hear it. So in a nation whose very charter embodies the Enlightenment's concern for individual liberty and free inquiry, the proper reply to those who want to protest the Danish cartoons is this: Feel free to feel offended, but don't ask us to censor ourselves. This isn't your culture.
And while we're talking about Not Censoring ... now here's a truly obscene image America needs to see, again and again:
Oh, you say they're not terrible? Then you are probably not a fervent Muslim, and you are certainly not an Islamofascist Muslim. Because both images--the one on the left is from medieval Islamic literature (note the halo), and the other is one of the notorious Danish cartoons--depict the Prophet Mohammed. Those cartoons (but not their counterparts from centuries ago) are the object of angry protests, rioting and murderous violence. Americans have difficulty understanding such responses. After all, we're accustomed to newspapers running a picture of a crucifix submerged in urine or a dung-covered Virgin Mary, and being told that such a "work" is Important Art deserving respect. The faintest objection to that sort of thing is attributed to religious fanaticism and labeled a threat to the artist's constitutional right of expression. In contrast, threats to decapitate Danish artists have led opinion leaders in Western democracies to express sympathy with Muslim sensitivities. Practically no American newspapers have reprinted the cartoons. Publishing images of the Prophet, it is said, is wrong; free speech shouldn't be that free. Well, wait a minute! The First Amendment was adopted to protect our liberty to say something even though another may not want to hear it. So in a nation whose very charter embodies the Enlightenment's concern for individual liberty and free inquiry, the proper reply to those who want to protest the Danish cartoons is this: Feel free to feel offended, but don't ask us to censor ourselves. This isn't your culture.
And while we're talking about Not Censoring ... now here's a truly obscene image America needs to see, again and again:
Fantasied perfection
"These days it makes me feel cheap and contemptible to think of the
things I did to point out all the ways in which this country fails to
achieve some fantasied perfection." -- Gerard Van der leun, referring to his college days in the tumultuous 60's
I remember those troubled days. Lots of people threw themselves into the cause of "pointing out this country's shortcomings" by word and deed. It wasn't until the end of the draft that most of the marchers lost their ardor for storming the ramparts. I wasn't one of the protestors; my problem is that I tend to demand perfection of myself, not my nation. But as a social science grad student, I got acquainted with some of Gerard's fellow-travelers. Two students who were working toward doctorates were especially memorable. To them, the government was evil through and through. Every policy and every action was given the same label: "Fascist!" Apparently they never wondered why that supposedly totalitarian state tolerated the most outrageous behavior in American history. I would hope that at some point in the ensuing decades those professors-in-training came to understand the contradiction between their beliefs and the reality that is apparent to all with open eyes.
I remember those troubled days. Lots of people threw themselves into the cause of "pointing out this country's shortcomings" by word and deed. It wasn't until the end of the draft that most of the marchers lost their ardor for storming the ramparts. I wasn't one of the protestors; my problem is that I tend to demand perfection of myself, not my nation. But as a social science grad student, I got acquainted with some of Gerard's fellow-travelers. Two students who were working toward doctorates were especially memorable. To them, the government was evil through and through. Every policy and every action was given the same label: "Fascist!" Apparently they never wondered why that supposedly totalitarian state tolerated the most outrageous behavior in American history. I would hope that at some point in the ensuing decades those professors-in-training came to understand the contradiction between their beliefs and the reality that is apparent to all with open eyes.
How to interest boys in poetry
In 1935 Winston Churchill was laboring,
with little success, to alert the House of Commons about the growing
menace of the Third Reich. In The Gathering Storm he related the situation brought to mind a little poem, The Clattering Train, that he had read as a schoolboy:
Those lines are, of course, a marvelous metaphor for our own time as well. But even if that were not so, the poem deserves attention from English teachers. Schoolboys are notoriously uninterested in Fine Literature. They like action, and they have short attention spans. But The Clattering Train is lyrical yet dramatic. It powerfully conveys a sense of impending doom---and in only six brief lines! What could be better to introduce boys to the idea that poems can speak to us so well, and on multiple levels?
Who is in charge of the clattering train?
The axles creak and the couplings strain,
And the pace is hot, and the points are near,
And Sleep has deadened the driver’s ear;
And the signals flash through the night in vain,
For Death is in charge of the clattering train
The axles creak and the couplings strain,
And the pace is hot, and the points are near,
And Sleep has deadened the driver’s ear;
And the signals flash through the night in vain,
For Death is in charge of the clattering train
Those lines are, of course, a marvelous metaphor for our own time as well. But even if that were not so, the poem deserves attention from English teachers. Schoolboys are notoriously uninterested in Fine Literature. They like action, and they have short attention spans. But The Clattering Train is lyrical yet dramatic. It powerfully conveys a sense of impending doom---and in only six brief lines! What could be better to introduce boys to the idea that poems can speak to us so well, and on multiple levels?
Already there
All dogs go to heaven, according to the
1989 movie by that name, because dogs are naturally kind.That claim strikes me as being overbroad, but I know of one pooch that is certainly already there. Our little dog, Boo, reached the end of her long life with an unparalled reputation for a sweet and uncomplaining disposition. A tasty handout, a comfy place to snooze, and the presence of one of her people were all she ever needed to be happy.
Rest in peace, Boo, in spirit perpetually snuggled in the arms of those who loved you.
It falleth suddenly
One day while we were chatting with
friends the conversation included speculation about when a doctor,
who both they and we have used for many years, would retire. We
knew the physician was in his late sixties, so we assumed he'd be
hanging up the stethoscope for a placid life of fishing and
hunting. Just the next day, however, we were shocked to hear the doctor
had collapsed and died the previous evening. Eventually
we learned he'd been battling cancer for some time. He and his
family had known to anticipate the end, but his
passing shocked those who had been unaware of his disease.
For us, it was one of those unforeseen events that happen all the time.
At a certain level we realize we should expect the unexpected, but when
it happens we're always caught off guard to some degree. As the
Book tells us, "... no man knows when his hour will come: As fish are
caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so men are
trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them." So we should
lead virtuous lives and heed our mothers' advice: always put
on nice underwear in case you're in an accident and must be rushed
to the
hospital.
Image has nothing to do with it
Many observers were repulsed
by the harsh questioning of Samuel Alito in the confirmation
hearings for his nomination to the Supreme Court. Probably most
viewers, regardless of political orientation, had some empathy for the
judge's wife when she broke into tears from the stress of watching her
husband hectored for three days. Blogger Ann Althouse, who was
sympathetic, went on say "The odd thing is that we expect a wife to sit
behind her husband, unable to participate, just a backdrop of support.
It's strange the way wives are used in politics to create an image for
the man. In the business world, a man bringing his wife along to sit
with him for a job interview would be out of his mind." Her comparison
strikes me as not quite on point. Alito's wife wasn't there as a
"backdrop of support" to "create an image." I myself have faced a
mini-inquisition before a hostile panel. My wife accompanied me,
but not because of any intended "image." I didn't even ask her to go
along; it was her decision. But I did like knowing she was
standing by me during a difficult time, and I'm sure she wanted me
to have that assurance. Too, if she'd waited at hom, we both
would have been constantly wondering and worrying how the other was
faring. That was also the case, I'm sure, with Samuel and Martha-Ann:
facing, together, another of the many challenges that inevitably come
along during an enduring marriage.
There's too much noise
The hobbyist publication, Old Cars,
had a piece about a fellow who was born on a farm about 1900 and was
amazed when he first saw an automobile. The machine's chuffing, banging
and rattling startled the horses too, he recalled. But eventually, the
difficulty of making a living on the farm led the man to take a job in
one of the then-new and booming automobile factories. Still later, he
left the factory and opened a body-repair shop, where he hammered out
dents and creases. In old age he was asked what was the biggest change
he'd witnessed in his long liftime. He immediately replied, "Noise."
How true! Our ears aren't tough enough for the cacophony of modern
life; noise erodes our hearing and causes stress that leads to manifold
maladies. Moreover, there are other kinds of "noise" that assault us.
The vibrations of economic, social, cultural and political events and
currents buffet us relentlessly--and seemingly more intensely.
Little wonder that so many wish to find a "quiet place"
where soul and body can be nourished.
Bouncing ball
News that former U.S. Senator Eugene McCarthy had died made me recall
the time I met him. In 1969 I was living in Washington, drawn there by
my naive romanticization of government and politics back then. One
summer day, during a long lunch break I was walking around the Capitol
and saw Senator Fred Harris, who I'd met in Tulsa. He was talking to a
jacketless fellow who was tossing a rubber ball against the building,
catching it on the rebound. I greeted Harris and after we exchanged a
few words he said he'd like to introduce me to Gene McCarthy. The
ball-thrower turned to me and shook my hand. There was no real
conversation, just "how do you do" or such. I walked on and McCarthy
resumed playing with the ball. Years later I could see this as
something of a metaphorical moment. McCarthy's famous 1968 insurgency
against a sitting president, as well as some of his subsequent Quixotic
ventures, were akin to that ball.
Now, exactly how does the editor improve the product?
The mainstream media like to talk about
how the quality of their product is enhanced by the review and editing
process. Supposedly the editors catch mistakes and such. The problem
with that argument is that every day there's ample evidence the media
suffer from the old "GIGO" syndrome: garbage in, garbage out. Case in
point: the newspaper article about the Southwest Airlines plane that,
while landing at Chicago Midway during a snowstorm, skidded off the
runway, smashed through a fence and hit some cars on a road next to the
airport. The account was mostly routine what/where/when stuff but right
in the middle there also was this sentence: "Southwest is the nation's
most profitable airline." Now, why was that fact stuck into the story?
Yes, it's true, but also entirely irrelevant to the subject, like
saying "Southwest offers pretzels and peanuts as snacks." Neither
profitability nor in-flight snacks have anything to do with the
accident. Come to think of it, though, the company's financial
position can indeed have relevance to post-accident
events. Any unfortunate incident is an opportunity to clean up at the
courthouse! Perhaps in the first draft the reporter wrote "Any person
with real or imagined injuries should go ahead and sue this airline
because it's got really deep pockets."
That would be a bit, well, blatant. So an editor would have seen that
the invitation was phrased more discreetly. Still irrelevant, but
discreet.
Two ways to explain what Christmas is really about
With a great Christmas Carol:
Long
lay the world
In sin and error pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt His worth
The thrill of hope
The weary world rejoices
For yonder brings a new and glorious morn
O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
In sin and error pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt His worth
The thrill of hope
The weary world rejoices
For yonder brings a new and glorious morn
O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
With a bumper sticker:
Jesus
is the reason for the season
Both
work for me.