Ignorant Belief

My childhood education was stuffed with scientific outlook. It was a dangerous world out there and we needed all the science we could handle to defeat godless communists and other horrible menaces. Science can, after all, help us build much bigger bombs and delivery systems. 

But science is stark, complicated, and based on probability. It’s turned out most folks can’t handle it as a life guide. Belief in anything simplifies a complex world immensely, represents common sense, and ignores annoying exceptions. Most of the time, for an individual, it is comforting and harmless. 

If you believe that the lucky penny in your pocket keeps away elephants, you’re in luck. If you believe it helps your team win you will be sporadically rewarded. If you believe it will deliver next week’s lottery, you’ll probably be disappointed. No matter. You have a right to believe anything. 

Unfortunately, ignorant belief is not as useful as science in dealing with the “objective world” you and I share. And it may be a danger to others or society. If you believe your sick child will be saved by a lucky penny rather than a doctor’s care, I may decide to help that child and the hell with your belief. 

Many beliefs, however comforting to believers, have been horrible to societies. Witness the Nazis or Aztecs. 

Humans are complicated and finite in an ever more complicated and infinite universe. Lucky pennies may help any individual. But they can be an evil way to deal with others. 

New House

One year after the house across the street burned down, various permits and legal issues have been cleared and building is rapidly underway. A typical American balloon frame. In only a month, concrete has been poured for foundation, the skeleton is complete and plywood is being slapped on. 

Americans invented this type of home – stronger than it appears and in some ways ideal as long as there is an abundant supply of milled lumber and cheap nails. Much easier to maintain then old European chateaus – as wealthy expatriates have been discovering for years. 

Over a century or so, we have come to expect this to be the absolutely typical housing outside of urban areas. We assume the materials are available and labor is plentiful. Most of the middle class regard it as a birthright.

I suppose that like everything else it will vanish soon.

In the meantime, my wife and old time neighbors complain “too big for the lot” “No personality.” It’s true that current aesthetics (or lack thereof) tries to fit the largest blocky McMansion on as many square inches of property as code allows. People these days live indoors unless away on vacation. A yard larger than a living room is a nuisance. A giant box fits the bill. 

Anyway, I enjoy the sense of old-fashioned construction, workers like busy bees in a hive, something quickly emerging from nothing. 

Besides, lately complaints are futile and as my radical friends used to say, so it goes.

Of My Time

When we have lunch with our peers, I am reminded of those old Victorian drawing room clubs where retired military and bureaucrat gentlemen would gather and remember their grand old ideas of the empire as it once was. Alas, gone in these topsy turvy modern days. And, of course, all for the worst … 

Now I’m not quite so activistically nostalgic. I’m glad I lived through the times I did and the way I did but the world always changes. Life goes on. Some of it greatly better, some of it not so much. 

I don’t so much resist as ignore. I can leave my cellphone for long stretches, I’m not  constantly reacting to the internet. I take it slow, read, think, look around. I’m fortunate to be able to do so. 

At a slower pace, this civilization remains a wonder to behold. So many marvels we take for granted. So many big issues being handled (like food, electricity) leaving us free to complain about trivia. The human comedy parading before me all the time. 

But when we gather friends for lunch – no, none of that. Everything is bad and getting worse. Bragging and complaints about the family – probably a universal concern since the first hominids invented language. 

I just smile (vacantly?) And feel the sunshine warmth.  

A Tiny Prayer

I do not believe in an anthropomorphic god. I do not trust any holy writings created by humans, however inspired. I reject the mystic core of the dogmas of major religions. 

But I do have a spiritual aspect. I know there is far more to the universe than I can ever know. The only proper feeling is awe and gratefulness for existence. 

I recite this mantra each morning and as I wander through each day: 

Thank you God. Thank you for this time. Thank you for this day. Thank you for all we have been given. 

Thank you for our health. Thank you for our wealth. Thank you for our family.

Help me do what is right. Help me to appreciate everything. Help me to support those I love. 

Thank you for all my life and help me to remember it with gratitude. 

Okay, it’s not mysterious and deep. But it helps me to center, to put things into perspective, and, yes, to give me a spiritual lift. 

Dreams

There are essentially two kinds of dreams. 

The first arrives when we are sleeping. It is often realistic, fantastic, and strange. It’s made up, apparently, of odd bits and pieces of memory, neurons firing chaotically, for all we know influences from an alternate reality as well. Unlike “primitives”, we sophisticated folks dismiss it out of hand (possibly wrongly) as nonsense at worst, entertainment, or possible diagnosis and inspiration from the subconscious. 

The other case is “waking” dreams, when we construct grandiose plans. Imagination provides a more or less possible future filled with wonders, wealth, influence, whatever our hearts currently desire and of which we feel deprived. 

Lately I’ve been very fortunate. My sleep dreams are pleasant and resemble old romantic comedies. My waking dreams tend to be quite congruent with my actual life. It’s a terrific state of being. 

Of course, that does promote laziness. I’m afraid of little, I don’t want more. Ambition is limited to enjoying daily life and appreciating each moment. I’ve become a drone. However, not too much of a guilty drone. I’ve done most of what I wanted to do, accomplished some goals that once seemed impossible, and can still enjoy the nostalgic remembrances of having done so. 

I suppose that means both kinds of dreams are happily safe for a while. 

Sports Government

Forget ancient authors, theories, history. Boring. Nobody cares nor has the time to know. What Americans KNOW is sports. Especially professional sports. Put government rules and explanations in the form of sports and everyone would be happier. 

The federal government is the league, the states and corporations are the teams, the workers are the players, the citizens are the spectators. The talking heads remain as commentators. And, of course, the judges are the refs. Instant replay for laws!

Put in such terms, the first requirement for players is always a strong union. Protect and keep the players well paid and safe, which, we are all beginning to agree, is what most workers in the new AI economy need most. 

How spectators pay for it all is always an issue. So I suppose society becomes like parents, citizens are its “children” and money appears adequately and kind of by magic, rationed a little.

Maybe we all must now truly become as little children. Or, in alternate reference, accept mana from heaven. 

Not hard, the owners are already present. Oligarchs as there were in Rome. Let them vie for glory! An impossible dream …

Or – wait are we already there?