Dystopia

Historic philosophic religions tended to be of only two types. Either things had always been and always would be the same, or the world has once been much better than it is now. Sometimes there would be an apocalyptic cycle, when all would begin again .

Like many human thoughts, these were based on natural observation. The sun comes up every day. People live, decay, die – as does all life. Such can easily be extrapolated to cosmic visions .

Some of the “golden age” believers went further and extrapolated decline into horrors and dystopia. Some preached that we could hold it back for a while with moral reform. And there was always an audience to listen to how bad things could be, maybe because that made the present more endurable .

Now we seem to be in a golden age of dystopian predictions. Following a brief reversion to “progress”, civilization has returned to the old attitudes. The only question is which of the dueling dystopias will happen. Novelists all assume that we are in the golden age, and the future looks bleak indeed .

But the plain fact remains that life mostly goes on, dreamtime as always, one day after another, endlessly the same, eternally different. The certainty of individual mortal journey is, after all, always bleak .

Martyr

A martyr is useful to any cause. Religions are known for them. Joan of Arc saved France by dying – which she never could have done had she lived. The republicans now manufacture them by the bushel load – every victim of a crime becomes canonized in their political arena . The democrats not far behind.

The current champion of martyrdom is, of course, our president, who has managed to pull off the feat of becoming one while still alive. Instead of being seen as a shady lawbreaker with petulant grievances against anyone who opposed him, he has become the persecuted spearhead of a movement. In his mind, of course, it remains a movement of one .

Most martyrs die for a cause. A true martyr KNOWS they are dying for a cause. Historic tales of martyrs are usually gruesome. Joan, after all, was burned at the stake .

These “gentle” and affluent times require no such effort among the elite. If you are wealthy enough, you can designate yourself a martyr merely by having someone say something against you. And for the rich, such a designation has become an emblem of honor, proving that they are on the side of the angels.

Completely sane people have rarely been true martyrs. At least that hasn’t changed

Bernard DeVoto

Historians weave bygone “facts” into various narratives, depending on their own outlook and goals. Most intelligent readers know there are many valid aspects to such interpretation. I enjoy the American trilogy of Bernard DeVoto _ tracking the European overrunning of the North American continent .

Unlike many modern writers, DeVoto was able to be both brutally critical and empathetically understanding of some of the horrors and gallantry of the topic. He did not mind stating his opinion, always clearly as an opinion, but with a certain judgment often missing in the more shallow morality tales which treat the same subject today .

Brilliantly evocative, as I read – say – “The Course Of Empire” – I can nearly gasp at some of the appraisals of figures and cultures, which seem whitewashed in later treatments of the same subject. So much now forbidden language, so many prejudicial statements, so blunt a panorama of suffering, heroism, evil, stupidity, and progress .

Years ago I bought print books of these works. I often worry that in the future an Orwellian AI culture existing mostly electronically will hide, erase, or cancel anything like this by whim or accident .

In the meantime, I reread it all periodically as a treasure of my heritage .

Elder Myth

Most of us understand our lives as a narrative story. Elders tend to form that into a mythology. Like any good literature, the best exaggerate the highs and lows and often have a structure with a moral. Grandparents especially enjoy inflicting this on their young grandchildren. Or at anyone else when there is a holiday gathering. It’s a way of making a mark on the universe, claiming an importance almost as meaningful as in tales of heroes of old .

Nor is it wrong to do so. There is more to existence than daily meals and bedtime. Formulating one’s place in eternal mystery is important to all of us. And once in a while it is nice to share – even proclaim – that adventure .

Unlike many others, I do not think such tales actually help the young in their own lives. Life and circumstance were always unique, and the days change at a dizzying speed. At best this is just another form of entertainment with the added benefit of being (mostly) true .

Oh, perhaps there is some moral value. But really it helps everyone share and join internal narratives to feel far less lonely in the ineffable cosmos.

Sanibel Sad

“You can’t go home again” -, well you can’t really go anywhere as it once was. Older folks are often wrapped in nostalgia. As one of them, I remember many places I was privileged to visit before great change. Often merely modernity, sometimes catastrophe. Sanibel Island was one of them .

When my wife and I visited years ago it was – like many places we went – caught between old and new. The new was glitchy, shiny, and inaccessably privatized. The old had a patina of history along with the comfort of the commonplace.

Hurricane Ian exchanged all that, of course. New things are being rebuilt, but all is shiny, private, glitz. I find myself never wanting to revisit anywhere that once charmed me .

This culture is, I think, testing the proposition that private wealth is always better than public for anything but the most utilitarian needs. Mostly gaudy and ugly, but above all else tightly secreted away. With rare exceptions, America has no grand public spaces, and even fewer that are not merely an attempt at preserved wilderness .

It’s a forward-looking time. Ignoring real history in favor of myth, and ignoring the present in the race to the next great thing .

Sometimes an old man believes all the great things are gone with the wind .

Tyrant

Ancient Greeks sometimes put “tyrants” in power. Romans used “dictators”. The 19th century had “a man on a white horse”. Whatever the name, they seem to be ubiquitous in the current era .

These leaders gain control because of commonly perceived malaise or crisis in the culture (as understood by those who control or want to control the culture). The avowed goal is to “shake things up,” Get things done, and ignore any of the traditional customs and laws that are getting in the way .

Tyrants usually do manage to address issues, often by wrecking norms. For good or bad, they do make previously “impossible” things happen. Sometimes we all admit it is a necessary – even if harsh – cure .

The main problem, of course, is that “power corrupts”. There is little worse than a tyrant who becomes whimsical, moody, and so self-centered that each momentary passion must be gratified. Usually, any sense of perspective is lost and the tyranny boils down to a small clique of sycophants clinging to and fortifying the “glorious leader” no matter what .

No form of government, no civilization, has ever been immune to the siren call of tyrants. As we are now witnessing .

Joseph Campbell

I was brought up through excellent public schools in the scientific aura of the 1950s. I consequently have always had a cosmopolitan outlook. I firmly believe in shallow history, deep history, human evolution, geologic changes. I know there have been innumerable people just like me living in vastly different cultures .

And I accept that religion in some form is necessary to human health. I also went to Sunday church (and Sunday school, and choir) during my formative years .

Joseph Campbell spent a lifetime documenting and comparing all the religions he could get a handle on. He tried to tie together their great concepts and the underlying intuitions that supported them. I have friends who found his work exceedingly shallow, but I accept it and enjoy the widening of my own mind by doing so .

That is why I have such antagonism for the current religious right fanatics. I have rarely met such vacuous minds. I know most of it is probably just a defense mechanism against a turmoil of our times, but it bothers me to find intelligent people crawling into shallow tribal superstition, not to mention side ventures into crystals, astrology, guru’s, and whatever .

I’m happy at such times to reread “The Masks of God” and understand that this too shall pass .

Conceit

“A sucker is born every minute” proclaimed PT Barnum. The “average American voter” has often been vilified for ignorance, prejudice, whatever. Frozen in collective memory by Menken’s “booboisie.”

And yet, we often found that speaking with each other one-on-one revealed a fairly complete interesting human being. Somehow we trusted that – informed by a free press – such good would shine through in the loneliness of the election booth. Mostly, it seemed to work .

But several generations of being assured that “you are just as good as anyone else” have had evil effects. Even in simple conversation, we discover everyone is as conceited as a god, certain that they know everything, sure that anyone claiming to be an expert (except the internet influencers they follow) is a charlatan.

So conceit has fallen on an entire population, certain that at any moment what they believe is true, fortified by warped electronic propaganda. No longer much fun to talk to. Anything but complete interesting human beings. Conceited know-it-alls, who unfortunately carry their very real ignorance and prejudices into the ballot box .

I used to agree that democracy was “the worst form of government except for everything else.” Now I tend to drop the qualifier .

Clinical Trials

In the last 150 years, biological understanding has increased tremendously. Much is understood at the molecular level. Statistics on detailed populations and outcomes are massive and readily available. A doctor from the 1800s would be astonished .

Yet we cling to ancient rituals, reinforced by old legalities. Once upon a time “clinical trials” made great sense. They were truly a “gold standard” not only at seeing if something worked, but also if it caused harmful side effects .

True clinical trials required “equivalent groups”, one that receives treatment, one that does not. This is quite cumbersome and expensive – and for that reason is embraced by the pharma industry as a barrier to entry.

In fact with the modern state of knowledge and history, the “control group” is no longer necessary. There is a long detailed chart of what happens to those not treated. There is also a much better idea of what will happen because scientists understand mechanisms and do testing on animals .

Clinical trials have become an annoying barrier to progress. New remedies can be tested on those in need of them, with no necessity to subject another select group to the false hope of improvement .

Self Fulfilling

Long before anyone thought of “attractors” there was the concept of self-fulfilling prophecy. What you expect to happen (good or bad) happens, not because of fate but rather because you unconsciously work to make it happen .

These days we have an administration that glories in self-fulfillment. They decide cities are hell holes and work actively to make them so. They say people are unhealthy and act to make their idea come true. They decide most people are criminals and – lo and behold – “criminals” pop up everywhere .

Mostly they say we need a “glorious leader” to bring us out of a political malaise. Their desire for a dictator who makes the trains run on time is coming true even to the point of considering all American armed forces a feudal militia .

The trouble with self-fulfilling prophecy, of course, is that it is usually a distortion of reality. And by ignoring reality, the eventual decay and destruction is much worse than it should have been .

So, “attractor” as such attitudes may be, they leave me fondly wishing for the good old days when logical and informed leaders were willing to admit they weren’t quite sure what was best to do .