Normally Inert

In apocryphal metaphor, a frog will not jump out of a slowly warming pan of water until it is too late. Similarly, people continue their normal lives as disaster approaches or rages around them.

When I was much younger, I’d casually wonder what I would have done were I living in Germany in the 30s. Or how I would have reacted in the Roman empire as barbarians invaded distant frontiers, or what I might have done in a medieval European village as plague swept nearby.

Sadly, I now know the answer: nothing at all.

We may dream of being part of or even of influencing grand history, but the fact is we live in daily routine. We are too busy with everything around us to care much about big issues. At least until they strongly affect us.

To be fair, this is evolutionary sanity. Survival overrides everything else. We may use leisure to consider cosmic issues, but often leisure not related to daily life is counterproductive to security and happiness.

So the American voter frogs squat in their warm water, as customs and institutions they took for granted are ripped to shreds and incinerated. The only consolation is that sometimes vast destruction leads to evolutionary (perhaps good) change.

Once upon a time I thought the cataclysm would at least take a while and be imperceptible locally. Now I’m not so sure.

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.

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.

Holy Writ

Fundamentally, I believe most people are just like me – pretty smart and dumb at the same time. In general, I think small groups of people construct sane outlooks most of the time. There are exceptions. A few people are brilliant in certain areas, a few groups turn into insane cults.

I do not accept that gods directly write anything. All words are formed by other humans. And so I have a skeptical opinion of anything taken as “holy writ”, immutable and perfect from the moment marks are made on a surface.

No need to get directly into religion. What I most detest at the present moment is the “conservative originalist” interpretation of the US Constitution as not only inviolate and perfect, but also the result of a brilliant gathering of minds whose choices can never be questioned nor seriously modified.

The problems go beyond the obvious – that some of it may be wrong or have become irrelevant. Anything stiffly frozen is in some ways fragile, and in others just an obstacle to be destroyed. And there is a nearly nonsensical position taken by some specialists that they alone can determine what the folks who wrote it were “really” thinking and what they “really” meant.

It is simple madness, usually twisted to make words seem to say or mean exactly what interpreters and their cronies have decided. Sad times for our country.

Risky “Makers”

The smug justifying fable of the wealthy these days is that they “make” things, while the peons just take them away in order to exist. The poor are thus all morally thieves, and the virtuous rich sweat and labor to keep civilization staggering along.

In our capitalistic system, of course, most of the hyper affluent don’t know the difference between a hawk and a handsaw. They take risks (in other words, gamble) mostly with other people’s money on things that might turn a profit. Only a few of these “investments” work out, and of those that do a lot are straightforward manipulation of financial assets with no “making” involved .

I admire free enterprise. These are generally small time entrepreneurs who risk their own time and money to truly make something or provide a necessary service. They rarely climb into the ranks of the hyper-affluent, but they often do well enough and truly provide the frameworks of civilization. To keep them striving, the myth of makers is endlessly proclaimed .

I do not mind the billionaire class, whose equivalent has always been with us. I do prefer the old desire of this class to be “patrons” doing public works to show off. Our current set of selfish “makers” tend to think they should use their assets as “takers” to buy islands and other fantasies that are hidden and private, hence of no use to anyone. “Grabbers” might be a better term .

The current real dream of grabbers is to become immortal and omnipotent rulers of space and time. Individual private “glory” with no connection nor responsibility to anyone else .

Spoiled, dangerous, and increasingly in control .

Missing Middle

Since the rise of agricultural civilization, wealth has always been unequal. A small rich elite floated over the “masses”. Admittedly, in both groups, there were variations, sometimes major. But to speak of the rulers and the ruled pretty much said it all .

For a while during the turmoil of world exploration and industrial revolution, there came to be a myth of a “middle class”, neither rich nor poor, in control of their lives but not lording it over everyone. American economists continue to focus on this fairy tale which is no longer even partially true .

In the scientific, automated, predatory modern economy there is truly only a normal curve of wealth distribution. Sure, there is still a middle, but it is not defined by the endpoints. Most people in first world economies are affluent beyond the dreams of their ancestors. Even if “poor” they have food, shelter, clothing, dignity, and hope. Even if “rich” they fear they may lose a gamble once too often and drop out of the top percentile .

More importantly, from the economists’ viewpoint, it is impossible to define what “middle class” means. The marker once taken for granted – the suburban nuclear family with one man the breadwinner – no longer exists as a reliable guidepost .

The point is that we should abandon any desire to fortify a non-existent “middle class”. We need to concentrate on basic minimum living standards for all, and how to pay for them. “Work”, for example, may or may not be involved. We need fresh new viewpoints, and strategies as old certainties mutate or vanish .

Human

Sages calmly explain “we are just another animal.” Other sages claim that “surely in infinite space there are others just like us”. Adventurers announce humanity will soon spread to the solar system and beyond. Cyberneticists predict we will develop and give way to the next mechanical stage of consciousness .

They are wrong .

The difference between human consciousness and that of other animals is like the difference between an amoeba and a drop of water. The evolution of human consciousness depended on a series of unlikely fortunate accidents. Anything may be possible in “infinite space”, but in a universe that is merely ALMOST infinite most stuff is flat out impossible. Our only comfortable home is this planet. Our “mechanical descendants” are only like us in bad science fiction, no more akin than that drop of water and amoebas.

We have been told that the great shock of modern times was that “man” discovered “he” was not the center of the universe. Another great shock may be the realization that you, I, and each human is, in fact, the ONLY meaning in the universe. Right here, right now.

That may take a little while to settle in, just as it took a while for the older myths to be swept away. For those becoming aware, however, it means we must treasure ourselves, our planet, and each other as never before.

We are probably all there is .

Sausage

I’ve taken to habitually cooking a pot of spaghetti every month. Then I doctor some tomato sauce and add hot Italian sausage and onions. I hear the gasps .

In this age of internet prudes,”ultra processed foods” are the quick road to death. Sausage hovers near the top of the list, although with a bit of guilt lots of people continue to consume lots of hot dogs and cold cuts. Actually, what I use is no more processed than unfrozen hamburger – raw pork bits with spices. Not claiming it’s a health food but …

Sausage, of course, is famous as a metaphor. Turning nasty parts that nobody wants of a dead animal into a formless chunky mix of whatever stuffed into cleaned intestines. The results – cured or merely cooked – became staples of the diet. In days before refrigeration, a very useful way to store meat. Back then, of course, no internet fanatics .

Language use extended to describing it as the same methodology by which legislation in a democracy is passed. “Sausage making” is uglier than “log rolling” and both terms are left out of elementary simple civics texts. But for better or worse pretty much true .

Me? I’m already too old to worry about consequences. I savor each food I like as a marvelous gift. I’m even willing to chew it slowly and be very thankful for the flavor.

I do turn off the internet when doing so .