Best of my Possible

Surrounded by babel about infinite multiverses, I have my own fantasy that my soul manages to navigate, pick and choose among them. A thread aware of the past and future, trying for an optimum path in what we call time, freezing yet another life in some new groove, or maybe just replaying it .

It’s all philosophic twaddle of course. I don’t really buy into the multiverse. No idea what time really is, but pretty sure that mostly what we experience is some form of underlying reality. Nobody knows. Nobody can know. I don’t care except in idle daydreams .

It’s been a very fortunate life, so I have the luxury of imagining I live in the best of all possible worlds – for me. My very own best possible life, unconcerned with all the other possibilities.

Oh, of course, much of that outlook is constructed by skillful editing, shaping nostalgia to focus on silver linings, “accentuating the positive”. No apologies. It’s a nice way to view the world, at least as one grows ever more elderly .

Each day now I can look back with fondness, enjoy some happy memories, and not worry at all about what I must do nor regret opportunities lost. I suppose all that is simply symptomatic of truly losing my mind .

Modern Socialism

Politicians are once again concerned about “socialism” almost as much as they were about “communism” in days of yore. They predict bread lines in New York, no houses for anyone, and dust and empty shelves for all. Just as in the USSR, China under Mao, North Korea now. That economic vision (whatever it is) has been proved by history to fail .

Yet today, there are elements of socialism everywhere, as there are elements of capitalistic free enterprise almost everywhere. There are few bread lines, and few any worse than in the “food pantries” set up for the (more fortunate) indigent in the United States .

The fact is that none of these systems is as it once was. Socialism, communism, capitalism are all far different in current practice than their conceptions of 100 years ago. The ongoing industrial and information revolutions have changed economics mightily. A world of (at least temporary) abundance based on possible ecologic disaster fails to fit any of the classic patterns.

What is unfortunate is that every thinker with an ax to grind pulls out the old unvarnished philosophies instead of coming up with something new, positive, and relevant. Our current drift may sooner rather than later be disastrous .

Joy of Surprise

Many times in my life I have purposely tried not to overprepare. Careful planning and study can dull the joy. At least for good things, I have always appreciated surprises .

Now that I began drawing again., I have gone through the usual process of learning to be an artist. At first I was overwhelmed and fearful at making “mistakes”. Then with practice, I was able to concentrate on the general shape of what I was trying to do .

The true reward is beginning to arrive after 6 months of mostly concentrated effort. Some of the things I do are once again surprising me. My intuition kicks in and spontaneously adds a doodle or line, which turns out to be quite interesting. My hands almost guide themselves as I pay more attention to the general vision of what I want. And at some point, as I finish up, I am happily surprised at the result. At least some of the time …

When folks speak of becoming like a child, they often mean being able to play. Surprise is a part of that. I merely extend that to utilize it in other areas of my life .

These days it is much too easy to know (or think we know) too much. Sometimes, ignorance can truly provide bliss.

Matisse

I suspect most people walk into a room, glance around, and when they find nothing threatening nor astonishing, begin to concentrate on whatever purpose at hand. I myself tend to ignore most wall decorations out of rush and habit. And, after all, paintings are really just simple wall decorations.

That’s why I like Matisse. Unlike artists who wish to make us look, try to change our character, to disturb the bourgeois, or to follow some obscure vision, Matisse accepts being a relaxing wall decoration. A beautiful and amazing wall decoration, to be sure, but no more than that.

Matisse is no simple artist. His pictures do reward long and deep study. There is always nuance in the deceptively simple presentations. But if you do not feel the nuance, his paintings are also just lovely background. A lot like nature itself .

I admit a preference for bold colors and strong drawing which he consistently delivers. Blended subtlety must be left for others. His work is usually joyful, exuberant, and makes one smile when it is noticed .

In a world of acid religions, societies, and politics, it is refreshing to contemplate his world of “lux, calme, et volupte.”

Barbarians

The Greeks called those outside their linguistic tribe “barbarians” because their language sounded like “bar bar bar” (or “blah blah blah”) nonsense. The name stuck for anyone not abiding by the “civilized” rules _ implicit and explicit _ of any given society. Being a barbarian is in the eye of the beholder .

“Uncivilized” attitudes and behaviors from those within a tribe are more difficult. For the most part, that comes down to ignoring laws and customs and saving a special treatment (good and bad) for friends and family. Living and possibly ruling by petulant whim .

Obviously not all barbarians arrive from “outside” like Attila the Hun. Internal monsters and their gang are frequent interruptions in “the march of progress” which includes peace and prosperity. More importantly, civilization implies a stable or rising economic framework and basic security for its members.

Once a barbarian clique gains power, it is difficult to dislodge, since it uses all the leverage of the state to maintain position. It seems most such situations are resolved more by internal squabbles and knives than by anybody legally replacing them. And on occasion a violent revolution. Or, of course, outside invaders.

The best hope for those trapped in a culture captured by barbarians is to lie low and hope they quickly eliminate each other .

Coda

July 4th was a family gathering, senior generations, young adults, grandchildren. As the younger folks spoke of ambitions, hassles, fears and the future, the elders reminisced about what had been and how magically much of life had happened .

Then the party ended and we elders went back to whatever normal lives we each inhabit. And I realized that in this culture – at least for the more fortunate – old age is a kind of coda on reality .

Finally we are free of admonitions about what to do, what we must do, especially what we are supposed to do. Mostly the young – even as they love us dearly – want us to stay out of the way as they race along their narrow paths .

Earlier, that was somewhat frustrating, as we were used to racing ourselves. But sometime in our late ’70s, life truly slows into rocking chair time at least for stretches of our days, however much we may regret it .

And what we learned at the party was to pull out the old memories and nostalgia and personal tales, since it is as raconteurs that the young treasure us most .

Impenetrable

There are many things I do not know nor understand. Some are too complex for my humble brain. Some simply do not interest me. Many I am too lazy to waste time on. But a few have become truly impenetrable .

To me, impenetrable carries a different connotation than “unknowable” _ an article of faith. I accept many things as unknowable – the meaning of life, the purpose of the universe – and most of the grand religious philosophic questions like free will and the true nature of time. Impenetrable rather means that something may have reasons, but they cannot be discovered by me. The best example is other people’s hidden motivations.

The boundaries between impenetrable and unknowable are tenuous and shifty. Which gets to my main focus of this essay: the future. I always accepted its details as unknowable, but I thought I understood the basic outline.

Nope. Now everything is both unknowable and impenetrable. Next year seems a gray goo, with no connection to the present. I can project no trends .

That annoys me because as an avid SF reader from childhood and student of history still, I unaccountably convinced myself I had some idea of what was happening and where the world might be going .

No more .

Bureaucracy

Bureaucracy is where most citizens interact with any government. Naturally, it is usually hated. The functions may be necessary, but no one loves a tax collector. Including the tax collector .

In the modern world, bureaucracy is the most stable institution of government. “Rulers come and go”, the tax collector remains. Soon it is all wrapped into a hated “deep state”. Since the days of the ancient empires, no matter who gets in charge, a tax collector or other agent will show up. “Meet the new boss …”

Our founding fathers didn’t think much about bureaucracy. There’s nothing about it in the Constitution. Except for national defense (and even most of that) they left it as a local matter to towns and states. They just figured folks would be temporarily hired at need .

It didn’t work. Bureaucracy grew from the beginning. But who was in charge? Just as corporations became “persons”, bureaucracy magically turned into an “executive function.” That’s surely wrong. It really should be fully controlled by the legislature. One of the big – really big – powers of the presidency that is completely unchecked .

And now, after centuries of civil service reform, it appears to be reverting to a “spoils system”. The second leg (politicization of the military is first) of establishing authoritarianism .

Shrinking

Roman and Greek morality looked back at an imagined golden age in the past and sought to emulate its heroes. A massive outlook change in Western culture (maybe science, industrialization, Christianity, or phase of the moon) had us looking at imagined futures instead.

There is now little respect for those who do not plan future growth. Yet I’ve been shrinking physically for some time now, shorter by at least an inch. My mental agility is declining. As I passed through my ’70s energy waned, senses were less sharp, memories became more important. I accepted that as natural, but society does not .

Young “whippersnappers” tell elders how active they should be, how they must engage in hobbies, how they must struggle to be better. Apocryphal tales speak of “old” people suddenly starting companies and becoming wealthy (although the definition of old seems to be creeping downward into the ’40s …)

In my newly engaged art pastime., I’ve decided to do away with future marvels. I simply want to use my reduced situation – senses and skills – as valid restrictions to construct unique artifacts. If my sight is blurred, let my drawings also be so. If my hand shakes, utilize that in my lines .

Not to get better in the future. Just to enjoy being a shrinking being as much as I possibly can .

Mythology

As a modern scientific civilization, we used to think that we had put mythology behind us. Myths were simply fictional morality tales, a “primitive” form of literature. We did not depend on gods and demons, but on facts and logic. Not for us the strange and inexplicable rites of lesser cultures..

Of course, we found we were wrong. An open mind in an open society merely lets us pick and choose among the many mythologies available. In other cultures, you often do not get to choose. But we all live by mythology just the same .

It has been painful to watch the erosion of “fact and logic” over the last decades. People now believe “influencers” as they used to believe astrologers or witch doctors. They attend cable news as they used to go to religious service. Belief is founded on just-so stories and wishes and selected fragments of reality. In this environment, the masses seem to be as easily led as peasants in medieval Europe .

Human nature. Not easily tamed. We must believe in something. And if the reasons for belief in anything are questioned, all bets are off .

So this civilization is not the civilization I thought it was. The current mythologies are darker and more blood drenched. An open mind in an open society has gone with the wind .