Our Moral Failings

In the United States, in the 21st Century, we are living under the thrall of a 16th Century Christian reformer.

Most of us are familiar with Martin Luther, who broke away from the Catholic Church in 1517, famously nailing his “95 Theses” to the door of Wittenberg's Castle Church.  Less familiar, but arguably as influential, was a Frenchman named Jehan Cauvin who is now known as John Calvin.  He and his followers made a further break from the church a few years later, establishing the practice of “Calvinism”.  The crux of Calvinist thought may be found in an article on the subject in Wikipedia:

“Calvin thought original sin was ‘a hereditary corruption and depravity of our nature, extending to all the parts of the soul.’ Calvin asserted people were so warped by original sin that ‘everything which our mind conceives, meditates, plans, and resolves, is always evil.’ The depraved condition of every human being is not the result of sins people commit during their lives. Instead, before we are born, while we are in our mother's womb, ‘we are in God's sight defiled and polluted.’ Calvin thought people were justly condemned to hell because their corrupted state is ‘naturally hateful to God.’”

One might surmise from this that most humans were naturally hateful to Calvin, as well.

Calvinism came to America with the Puritans.  In our mythology, this infamously strict group of worshipers left England to escape religious persecution by the Church of England, but they were not above doing a little persecuting of their own—primarily of their Catholic neighbors.  From the perspective of those they left behind, it was “good riddance”.

In today’s America, some of our more vocal politicians are spreading the falsehood that our nation and Constitution were products of Christian thinking.  This is easily disproved by reading the documents of the Founders, who were largely Deists* influenced by philosophers of The Enlightenment such as Voltaire and Rousseau.  The idea of a separation of Church and State grew out of their lived experience of an all-powerful church and corrupt king.

Despite the strong leaning against the influence of religion, the ideas of Calvinism have seeped into our culture so profoundly that we accept some as fundamental truths without giving them a second thought.  The greatest harm comes from the idea of “moral failings”.  Here is a sampling:

- Drug addiction.  Today, this is well known to be a mental health issue but it is treated as a crime committed by people with weak moral character.

- Bankruptcy.  Although we are quick to forgive businesses for going under, we heap scorn on individuals who go broke, even though the same forces may be responsible for both.

- Poverty.  Someone once wrote that if you were to slice out all references to the poor in the Bible, there would not be enough paper left to hold the book together.  In America, the poor are not seen as those who will inherit “the Kingdom of God”, but as a drain on society who need to “pull [themselves] up by their bootstraps”.

- Body size.  Shaming people for being “overweight” is nothing new, but it is much more prevalent these days.  Thus, even though your body size may be as a result of genetics or born of the unhealthy diets pushed by the food industry, you are subject to ridicule, and dismissed as lacking the will to improve yourself.

But the concept of moral failings implies that there is also a means of moral success.  Is this possible?  Some would assert that there is an absolute standard applicable to all, while others contend that morality has changed over time as we embrace different ways of being in the world.  Given this, how can we even begin to decide where success or failure lie?

One thing is certain, though.  Continuing to use our unspoken Calvinistic standards to judge our fellow humans will result in more misery for those who are seen to fail, and more anxiety for the rest of us as we attempt to cope with the results.  Perhaps in some brighter day, we will learn, as a society, to treat the misfortunes of our fellows with compassion.  Human foibles will never be a thing of the past, but by embracing them as a part of our nature and not our “hereditary corruption and depravity”, we may emerge into a new era of enlightenment.

* Deism is the belief in the existence of a supreme being, specifically of a creator who does not intervene in the universe. 

The Wind

Western civilization has long been in a battle with Nature.  We desire to beat back the wilderness and impose order.  Some of this is to make the world safer, but much is for the sake of convenience and comfort.  It has brought us to a point where we consider Nature to be an unnatural condition for humans.  Ponder that a moment.

Whether we like it or not, we are witnessing the flowering of Artificial Intelligence after many years of thinking that such a thing was a distant dream.  It is already disrupting life for some of us, and will continue to do so at an increasing pace.  One of the most disturbing aspects of this new technology is that even the most savvy scientists don’t fully understand how AI arrives at its conclusions. Its “mental” processes are mysterious, and the results it produces can be alarming.

The notion that ties these two elements together is in how helpless we can feel when confronted by forces we can’t control.  But, dear friends, there will always be things in this world that we can’t control.  It is better for our peace of mind to let go of the need to control when faced with things larger than us.  Both Nature and AI are such.  Rage against the wind if you must, but it will blow just the same.

Tragedy

We hear the word “tragedy” often these days. There are certainly many circumstances that wrench the heart and cause us to feel a sense of tragedy around it. The word has ancient origins, though, and tragedy once described something quite different than our present-day understanding.

* * *

Recently my beloved and I were privileged to watch the first worldwide broadcast of the Greek tragedy, “The Persians” by Aeschylus. It was staged at the amphitheater in Epidaurus, Greece before a live audience. This was especially dear to us because we had visited that spot on our tour of Greece in the summer of 2017.

“The Persians” is the oldest surviving Greek play, written in 472 B.C.E. It is set at the moment when news has reached home of the resounding defeat of the Persian forces in the Battle of Salamis. This battle took place in 480 B.C.E.—exactly 2,500 years ago. The Persian leader of the battle was King Xerxes, son of Darius the First. Eleven years earlier, Darius had sought to expand his empire into Greece, but had been sharply rebuffed, most notably at the Battle of Marathon. Upon Darius' death in 486, Xerxes took up his father's banner and made several successful forays before renewing the war against the Greek city states.

At the start of the play, the Chorus intones darkly of the disposition of the Persian warriors. They count among their braves many skilled in the arts of war, but hint at the woes that may befall them as the battle approaches.

Then enters Atossa, Queen of Persia, and mother of Xerxes. She recounts a prophetic dream, but is arrested in her telling by the arrival of a messenger from the battle front. The Persian forces have been routed by the Athenian host! Though greatly outnumbered, the Greeks, through subterfuge, lured the Persian navy into the Straits of Salamis where they became trapped. Taking advantage of the confusion, the Greeks drove their powerful triremes into the hulls of the Persian ships, sending them to the depths in defeat. Not long after, the army, depending on support from the sea, fell into disarray and died.

Xerxes, vanquished but alive, returns to his mother in rags. He repents of his hubris—that pride which seeks to set man above the Gods—but his sour fate is sealed. He will be immortalized, but it will be the immortality of those crushed by their own vanity. Ignoble, stained for all time.

* * *

So what, then, of tragedy in the 21st Century? Because I am writing on the 11th of September, nineteen years after the Towers fell, I wonder at those things we now give this name. Was the tragedy of 911 the deaths of 2,977 humans in the stark hours of that morning? Was it the death, maiming, and disease of the first responders and rescue workers in the the days and weeks following? Was the tragedy perhaps the blithe advice to go out and shop, to sleep peacefully while Congress enacted laws that gutted the Bill of Rights and the more ancient rule of habeus corpus? Does the tragedy that is 911 end even there? We are now a nation divided by the trivial concerns of a “culture war” over...over...I can’t even bear to articulate what.

I am tempted to go on and speak of the unbearable hubris that now casts its dark shroud over America. We who love the ideals of the founding of this country know it all too well.

I have a vision for the future of our land, and by extension, the future of our world. Like the drunk or addict who has reached the rock bottom of their disease, we may still raise our heads from the gutter and, as Oscar Wilde said, we may look at the stars. The stars, my friends, live within each of us. See the star within your neighbor, and the thousands and millions and billions of stars that are all around you. Rise with them into the firmament of a better future. We can do it if we will it so.

Quantum Facts

We hear a lot these days in the popular press about quantum mechanics.  Some articles are quite thought-provoking while others, frankly, make me roll my eyes.  There are some pretty gnarly concepts at the root of quantum mechanics, but some can be grasped by the layman—which is definitely what I am—if the explanation is clear enough.

The thought problem proposed by Erwin Schrödinger in 1935, and referred to as "Schrödinger's Cat", is beyond doubt the most widely known illustration of the principles of quantum mechanics.  It involves a box containing a living cat, a flask of cyanide gas, a radioactive atom, and a Geiger counter.  If the atom decays and emits a particle, it will trigger the Geiger counter.  A mechanism attached to the Geiger counter shatters the flask, and the cat dies.  Yes, as a cat lover, this disturbs me, but it is, after all, a thought problem.

Since the box is sealed, it can't be known whether the atom has decayed—and thus whether the cat is alive or dead—until the box is opened (presumably after the cyanide has dissipated, or you would be dead).  Where the weirdness of quantum mechanics comes in is that until it is observed, the cat must be assumed to be both alive and dead.  How can this patently absurd notion be true? The key idea here is a concept called superposition. 

* * *

We used to think that an atom looked like a tiny sun with the electrons whirling merrily around it.  This was before we had microscopes powerful enough to see atoms, something that didn't happen until 1955 when Dr. Erwin Mueller got the first glimpse through his newest “field electron microscope” at Pennsylvania State.  We now see electrons not as having orbits as such, but "shells" that are virtual spheres around the nucleus where the electron might possibly be at any given instant.  

These shells occur at various distances from the nucleus, determined by the amount of energy they possess, and the distances are called quantum levels.  This is the fact that the whole Quantum Theory rests on: an electron can only be on one or the other of its quantum levels, and no place in between.  When we speak of a "quantum leap", we are using a metaphor for what actually happens at the atomic level.  As an electron gains or loses energy, it leaps from a lower to higher to shell—or quantum level—and vice versa. 

This leap is what happens when a radioactive atom decays, as the one in Schrödinger box might or might not do.  The “decay” we speak of is the electron losing energy and dropping to the next lower level.  As you may know, there is a principle called "conservation of energy".  The energy that the electron loses doesn't just disappear.  It can't.  Instead, the lost energy become a photon, which flies away from the atom at the speed of light.

So now we come to this superposition idea, almost.  In 1801, well before the Quantum Theory was conceived, an experimenter named Thomas Young set up an apparatus to demonstrate the behavior of light.  It was believed that light consisted of either a waves or particles, and he wanted to find out which. Young's device, called a double-slit interferometer, sent a ray of sunlight through a small hole in a piece of paper, then split that ray in two by placing another piece of paper on edge directly in the middle of it.  Although subsequent experiments used an actual pair of slits, this served to do the same thing: it showed that the two beams created an interference pattern on the screen where they landed.  The same thing will happen when waves of water are split; the peaks and troughs alternately cancel and reinforce one another.  You can see what the pattern of an interferometer looks like at the top of this article.

Thus, Young had proved that light was a wave and not a particle...only he hadn't.  During the early discussions of Quantum Theory, Albert Einstein wrote:

"It seems as though we must use sometimes the one theory and sometimes the other, while at times we may use either. We are faced with a new kind of difficulty. We have two contradictory pictures of reality; separately neither of them fully explains the phenomena of light, but together they do."

How could this be?  By this time, a more sophisticated version of Young's double-slit interferometer (one with actual slits) was being used to test the properties of light.  In was now possible to aim a very narrow beam of electrons toward two small slits, and detect the pattern they made.  If electrons are particles, the pattern should be two solid bars in the shape of the slits.  If they are waves, Young’s interference pattern should emerge.  But something strange happens: if either path of the electrons is monitored, each particle appears to pass through one slit or the other, and no interference is seen.  If, on the other hand, neither is checked, the electron will appear to have passed through both slits simultaneously before interfering with itself, thus acting like a wave.  How is this possible?  The only difference is one scenario involves observation—or what physicists call a measurement—and the other does not.  This is what is referred to as the observer effect.  Yes, this sounds crazy.  The behavior of innocent, unintelligent electrons changes depending on whether they’re looked at or not.  This phenomenon is seen over and over again with increasingly sophisticated experiments.

* * *

So, finally to superposition.  It is said that the electrons (or photons, or other particles) when unobserved, are in superposition, meaning that they can be in any possible state. In the case of the double slit experiment, this means they can go through either slit, and you don’t know which.  In this condition, they (or a significant number of them) seem to go through both slits at once.  When observed, they meekly go through one or the other.  Observation—measurement—collapses the wave function, the mathematical description of the probabilities.  There is then, no more probability, just a fact.  One slit; other slit.

As you might imagine, the implications of this phenomenon gave physicists fits, and continues to do so to this day.  This, in part, is why Einstein, who took a while to embrace some of the tenets of quantum physics, famously said, “God does not play dice”.

Most thinkers in this field are willing to concede the reality of the observer effect at the subatomic level, but draw the line at saying it has validity in the “macro” world—that is, ordinary reality.  Others are not so sure, and this is why we have respected scientists talking seriously about parallel universes that blossom from every collapsing wave function, and even the notion that we are two dimensional beings dreaming our waking lives in three dimensions.  The movie, “The Matrix” is often mentioned.

Given the above, my title, “Quantum Facts” might seem a bit tongue-in-cheek.  I had in mind to go into my suspicion that facts in today’s world seems rather arbitrary when viewed from different directions, and perhaps do a take on the observation that eye witness accounts of events can vary wildly from person to person.  But I’ve bored you long enough, and we can save that for another day.

For more intriguing information:

Through the Wormhole: The Double Slit Experiment (a video with Morgan Freeman)

Through Two Doors at Once: The Elegant Experiment That Captures the Enigma of Our Quantum Reality by Anil Ananthaswamy

Not a Well Regulated Militia

When was a young man in my late 20’s, I became friends with, and subsequently shared a house with a fellow who was very much into firearms. I became interested in them as well, and bought a few rifles, shotguns, and handguns over the course of the next few years.  I joined the NRA, and we subscribed to such magazines as “Guns and Ammo”, “Field and Stream”, and “Soldier of Fortune”.  I took a course in firearm safety, and got a permit for concealed carry in Connecticut.

My friend and I, and another guy who worked in the same machine shop, spent a lot of time in gun stores, traveling to shooting ranges, and generally shooting the shit about all things guns.  We were completely into it.

I had a sweet little Charter Arms .38 Special “Undercover” model revolver that I carried everywhere in a back belt holster.  There is a protocol about being in public while “packing”, and its a fool’s move to give away your “defensive position” in any way.  In other words, as far as anyone else was concerned, you were unarmed.

At that time in my life, we also spent a lot of time in bars, some of them pretty rough.  Biker bars, for example.  In this context, you are always thinking about threats—you know, that burly, scarred-up guy who might say, “Whadda you lookin’ at, huh?”  That never happened, of course, but the mind builds scenes where there is no choice but to reach back and haul out your gat, and...  I never got any further than “and...”.

After a while, the stress of this weird mindset began taking its toll.  When my girlfriend questioned why I always carried a gun, I had to concede that there was no good reason, and stopped.  I haven’t carried since.

I was 31 at the time, and generally had a pretty good head on my shoulders.  Please understand that in the late 70's and early 80's, my friends and I were not driven by politics—at least not per se.  We were enthusiasts, and were somewhat fueled by the notion that should our country be invaded and occupied by enemies, we, the citizens would not be caught flat-footed.  I should also note that the movie, "Red Dawn" was released about this time, and it expressed our thesis almost exactly, a fact that embarrasses me now.  Suffice it to say the issue of Second Amendment rights was nothing like the hot-button it is today.

* * *

Consider now a child at the age of 17 in the year 202.  This child grows up in the same kind of atmosphere that I was absorbed in, but instead of getting cranked up by his drinking buddies, he is encouraged by his parents, and by the people he most admires: the police. 

A seventeen year old boy, filled with ideas of glory and too much testosterone should not be out in public with one of the most deadly firearms available to civilians.  If he had stayed home in Antioch, Illinois on that night, two people would be alive, and a third would not be looking forward to perhaps years of painful and expensive surgery.  But instead of being safe in bed in Antioch, it is alleged that he was driven the 20 miles to Kenosha by his mother where the opportunity to be a hero overcame any moral guidance he might have received from his Christian background.  In the heat of that night, the awesome power of the .223 caliber AR-15 military-style assault rifle held sway, and its deadly work was done.

Some people—especially the allegedly Christian group who have now exceeded their $200,000 goal for Kyle Rittenhouse’s defense—believe this was a justifiable act.  What part of this narrative involves driving a boy, armed with a weapon he was too young to have, into a zone where anguished people were protesting yet another outrageous shooting at the hands of the police—the police that this boy revered?

If you can find a clear and compelling defense for this behavior, I’d like to hear it.  We should be taking action now to make sure that no more Kyle Rittenhouses ever walk the streets of America looking for glory.

Originally posted in somewhat shorter form on Facebook on August 30th, 2020, five days after the murder of Anthony Huber and Joseph Rosenbaum people and the maiming of Gaige Grosskreutz at the hands of Kyle Rittenhouse during street protests in Kenosha, WI. —the author

You Are the Enemy

.

You are the enemy.

But wait, you say, I’m one of the good guys!  I live right, and I do my best to be on the side of truth and justice, don’t I?  

Let's take a moment to look back on previous times of trouble, when it seemed far easier to know who your enemies were and were not.

First, we visit World War II.  The second Great War is now considered to have been be a just war, and the last of such within our lifetimes.  Europe was being crushed under the brutal Third Reich of Adolf Hitler, and Japan had begun expanding its empire by occupying French Indochina.  On December 7th of 1941, the Japanese Air Force carried out their infamous attack on Pearl Harbor, dragging the United States into a conflict we’d hoped to avoid.  Before too long, the entire nation was mobilized against enemies both in the South Pacific and Europe.  We knew the shape of our foes as the dreaded Nazis and the “Japs”, and we were determined to show them our American might.  Many fought, many died, but the Allied forces won the day, and the world was once more at peace.

The Germans of this era had a very different view of what the war was about.  Their country had suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the Entente Powers in World War I, and Hitler was leading the way to regain their national pride.  Der Fürher warned his people of other threats: the Jews, the homosexuals, and the Gypsies.  In the spirit of purifying the Fatherland by purging all pariahs, the German people encouraged Hitler’s Brown Shirts to usher these vermin away into concentration camps; out of sight, out of mind.  Those citizens who were disquieted by this kept their peace.  It is never good to go against the grain lest you be singled out.

* * *

Although our Great War and its triumph are a ringing victory in our history, the Civil War between North and South still troubles the soul of this nation.  For more than two centuries, the British colonies, and then the young nation of the United States, made their fortunes on the backs of captives from Africa.  Pressed by strong arguments from abolitionists, President Abraham Lincoln mounted a war against the Southern States, who would rather secede from our Union than abandon the practice of chattel slavery.  Slavery had lined the pockets of plantation owners, and provided those States with political clout unavailable to the Northern states.  

The North had begun to distance themselves from this cruel practice, and many wished to see abolition become the law of the land.  Lincoln knew that the cost of a war between the States would be heavy, but he also knew where the political winds were blowing.  There was no choice but to proceed.  Through blood and smoke and agony, our nation heaved into birth a new law that made enslaving our fellow man a crime.  We wept for our dead, and moved on.

In the South, the growing cry to abolish slavery was a threat to their agrarian way of life.  Agriculture, which depends on hard manual labor, was only sustainable if that labor came at no financial cost.  The notion that slavery might suddenly be abolished brought visions of chaos to rival the turmoil of the French Revolution of only a half century before.  Plantation owners foresaw bankruptcy and ruin. Poor whites, already living on the knife edge of starvation, saw doom and death if they had to free their “darkies”.

To the minds of Southern whites, slavery was not only an economic necessity, but the natural order of Man.  Had not the ancient Greeks and Romans, the founders of civilization, held slaves?  Even the Bible was called in to defend the institution.  Revered Abraham owned slaves, and consider Paul, who returned Philemon to his master.  No, Blacks were naturally weak of mind and, like the beasts of the field, needed the protection of a loving Master, and useful work to do.

* * *

So where does that leave us today?  We are the inheritors of a world altered by mighty struggles generation after generation.  Most wars are fought for land or gold, but nearly all are sold as a battle of ideals.  Today we face growing unrest over deeply ideological issues.  The conservative Right opposes the liberal Left in nearly every particular, and this pattern is repeated all over the globe.  There are real threats, such as the massive displacement of populations due to wars and climate change.  Other conflicts have arisen over social issues: abortion, LGBTQ+ rights and marriage, the sovereignty of our Second Amendment, and lately, the demand to bring true racial justice to America.

As with the battles outlined above, there are sides with very different visions of what the world should be.  Are you in favor of the status quo, or do you wish to see a new era of social progress?  The battle lines have been drawn, and we have already seen many casualties.  I fear there will be many more before the end of it.

So yes, you are somebody's enemy, whether you wish to be or not.  There can be no sitting on the sidelines to wait it out.  It will affect all of us.  Whatever the outcome, some group of people will gain while others will lose.  Some will be empowered while others are disenfranchised.  

And what will become of the losers?  They will continue to live among us, and will be forced to accept a world that rejects their ideology.  And do not be fooled—they will seek to prevail again.

In order to make a lasting change, we must strive to bring justice for all of us into this picture.  Nothing tastes sweeter than victory, but it is hollow if we stand on the necks of the vanquished and crow about our greatness.  As the days and weeks and months roll on through these dire times, keep ever in mind how the world will be at its end.  And we, all of us, have a hand in that end.

Kenosha

While not all is not known about Kyle Rittenhouse, the boy who killed two people and wounded a third in Kenosha last night, it seems clear that he was living out a dream. He dreamt of becoming a police officer, with all the honor and responsibility that entails. We have seen pictures of his cherubic face beaming from his junior-sized police uniform, of him carrying his cherished military-grade assault rifle. A 17-year-old with a vision for the future. His parents must have been so proud.

But then, this narrative of protecting and serving met the real world. He found himself in the midst of people agonized by what the police actually do to people of color in this country, people without power who die when they show up in the wrong place, at the wrong time, or do the wrong things according to a powerful, dominant, white story.

This story has dominated our policy and politics for hundreds of years. Kyle’s narrative told him that people protesting injustice were criminals, were enemies of the peaceful white privilege he took for granted. Privilege he had no choice but to take for granted because that was what his heroes on the police force took for granted.

Consider what his parents must now face as the events of last night unfold before our eyes. Their son, who seemed old enough and competent enough to handle his own weapon, went out into a chaotic world to be a hero. They may or may not have consented to this, but there he was. In the heat of the moment, some action, something yelled, something thrown, something that looked like a weapon, caused his arms to raise up, and his finger to squeeze in the way he’d been taught, and people died.

You who are reading these words: I ask you to consider everything I’ve said. The deaths and maiming were caused by a boy, but the actions of the boy were caused by a story. Boys at the age of 17 do not have the judgement to know where the boundary between story and reality lies. I am not saying that he is not guilty; what I am saying is that we are all guilty. We propagate the stories, and we school our young in them. Even our anti-stories fuel what becomes reality—what can become the reality of an August night in the year 2020, in Kenosha, Wisconsin, USA.

Perhaps you are accustomed to the virtue in situations like this being on one “side” or the other. Death takes no sides, and cares not a whit about your political position. Life, for that matter, works the same way. The question we should be asking ourselves is: how did we arrive at this insane place, and how do we, together, find our way back to sanity?

Concerning Reality

While there is (probably) an objective reality, it is the stories we tell ourselves and to each other that makes up our experience of reality on a daily basis.  Our stories are greatly influenced by how, where, when, and under whose care we grew up, and is further molded by the nature of the world around us as we move through time.

The sense of what is real is shared, to a greater or lesser extent, with the people around us.  This is often referred to as our “consensual reality”, that is, an unspoken consensus of what is real and true.  It is easy to see that there can be a great divergence between groups of people with different backgrounds, and it can be jarring to realize that something you hold to be unshakable truth is seen as a fantasy to others.  In a world where so much information is spread around by people with different agendas, these disconnects have become more and more frequent.  

Quite another matter is what happens when a person loses their way in their reality, and begins to think act in a way that does not match the reality of people around them.  We often refer to this as delusion or insanity.  Interacting with someone in a delusional state can be frightening and disorienting.  It can even cause you to question your own motives and reactions.  

We try to see the delusional person’s behavior in terms of how we would react to the same stimulus or circumstance, and there is no connection, no way of understanding it.  This is something that frustrates us when we hear about a sensational crime committed by someone who is acting on instructions from a mind that has come unmoored from our reality.  

The upshot of this is that we can never take for granted what other people see as real.  It is easy to be dismissive of their viewpoints, to hold them at arm’s length, or to run away in fright.  I would hope that when faced with any of these manifestations of differing reality that we would engage our compassion, and remember that we share our humanity with them.  We are all, down deep, fragile flowers and easily crushed.  Hold the flower of your fellow human lightly, and allow it room to flourish, if you can.

Good Deeds

You often hear people say, “No good deed goes unpunished”.  I’ve said it myself, but I must admit that the idea has always stuck in my craw.  If you think about it, it’s a discouragement to do good deeds.  After all, who in their right mind wants to be punished?  The safest course would be to do for yourself and let everyone else do the same.  I submit that the present state of the world might be examined in light of this.

Rather than consider your charitable actions toward others as good deeds, it might be better to think in terms of right action.  Right action, a concept of Buddhism, would have us live in alignment with the things that promote wellbeing in all aspects of our lives and in our interaction with others.  To borrow from a definition I found here: https://www.learnreligions.com/right-action-450068

"Right Action" is about "right" morality—translated as samyak or samma—It means being accurate or skillful, and it carries a connotation of "wise," "wholesome," and "ideal." It is "right" in the sense of being "upright," the way a ship rights itself when battered by a wave. It also describes something that is complete and coherent. This morality should not be taken as a commandment, as in "do this, or you are wrong." The aspects of the path really are more like a physicians' prescription than absolute rules.

Thus, living in right action does not require us to go out of our way to do a good “deed” for someone. Our goodness toward others becomes inherent in our behavior.  This does not mean that we will never be rebuffed or disappointed as a result of some action—it is through these corrections that we learn.  These are the waves that buffet the ship of our lives, and learning how to come back to center is a vital part of our growth.

Coming into right action as a way of life is not a decision so much as it is a process.  Of course, you must begin by deciding to live in this way, but it requires diligence and attention to the world around and within you until it grows into habit.  Doing the right thing in all circumstances is never completely possible, but if we aim for it, it’s far more likely to happen on a regular basis.

The End of Days

Strange musings on a Saturday in June when the World seems to be falling apart...

Although I have not been a Christian for many years, the stories and images from my early education are still with me.  They also pervade culture and literature, so it’s impossible to escape them completely.  Thus, I was thinking last night about the Book of Revelation.

I have read this chapter of the Bible.  It is a weird trip—almost hallucinatory.  It purports to show the end of the world as we know it, and the return of the Savior.  Many times throughout history, people have thought that the End Times were at hand, and have prepared to be pulled up to Heaven bodily.  But, of course, the next day came, and there they were: still at home and the trash needed to go out.  

Today, there are more signs than ever that The End is Near.  I don’t need to enumerate.  But I had this thought: what if there is no specific “End Times”, but it is something that happens periodically when old ways of living in the World can no longer be tolerated?

I’m now going to push metaphor pretty far—perhaps over the edge of a cliff—so, if you can’t hang with me, who would blame you?

Consider: a powerful demagogue has claimed the mantle of Christianity, and swayed many “true believers” to follow him despite his egregious and very un-Christian behavior.  Times seem to be improving without limit for the believers, and the rest of the world be hanged.  

Suddenly, there are plagues and pestilence.  The whole of humankind is in turmoil.  Just then, a good man is brutally killed by those in power, and his name becomes a symbol for billions.  The tide of evil begins to turn, and the good are lifted up.  Heaven is realized within the hearts of the just and the long-promised peace and harmony of humankind arrives at last!

The last part of this tale has not yet been written.  We are writing it now.  

Eaten

As you eat, you are eaten

Consumer, consumed

The lesser fleas dine

Shall I order your wine?

— January 23, 2013

Forgotten

Yesterday, beneath the cold winter sun

I forgot your name

There was a time when I knew it

When I spoke it in joy

When the words “great” and “legend”

Shimmered around it

Yesterday, there were different words

And your name was forgotten

Before you were born

On days beneath the warm summer sun

We would stand

One foot touching ground

The other strapped in with our hopes

To pedals poised
And waiting for the flag to drop

As the crowd flashed by

With our gathering speed

Your name was an unborn dream

That one day, a native of our soil

Would glide beneath the Arch

Arms raised high

That our flag would wave above you

As the first to wear the Yellow

Since our fathers were young

Now, the crowds are silent

Still pictures of glory undone

History, lifted from the pages

And scattered to the winter winds

— January 20, 2013

The Blossom

Unfold the blossom
That is your hand
And let the World
Inhale its fragrance

Open your mouth
And let flow the river
That all hearts shall bathe
And be renewed

If fire comes from you
Let it be the hearth fire
Let it be the forge fire
That tempers the steel
Let your fire smelt the ore
Let it burn away the dross

You are all of Nature
And all of Spirit
The tide of Time
And the stillness of Eternity
You are the Dream
And the Awakening

In You, All are Blessed
So Mote It Be

July 4, 2011

Better Chemistry Through Living

Truth

Our eyes cannot open wide enough 
to see the whole of the truth.

A Tour of Ireland: Day Two

The mezzanine bar at Gallaghers Hotel in Letterkenny could not be confused with a real Irish pub.  On the other hand, the day had been a long one, and, begod, I had a thirst.  My first sip of Guinness in Ireland was heaven.

* * *
September 10, 2011

After (another) solid Irish breakfast (see "Day One"), we boarded the bus for the day's adventures.  Since a great deal of our time in Ireland would be spent on said bus, it's worthwhile to take a moment to appreciate the qualities of this vehicle.  As mentioned earlier, it had a capacity of 20 passengers (no standees) and featured luggage space for 350 kg in the back.  On each side toward the middle were tables that could be used, for, example, to pile books on various aspects of Ireland (good until you hit a turn) or to rest your head when the burden of travel became too great.  Both the driver's side and the 'shotgun' seat had microphones hooked into a PA system.  This can be a good or bad thing.

In our case, it turned out to be a good thing.  Our driver, John Byrne -- called Sean O'Brin when speaking Irish -- was a treasure trove of information on a range of topics related to the Irish experience.  We'd hear the crackle of the PA and John would come on to tell about, say, the Irish roots of the name of the town we were approaching, which would lead to a story about the town's role the an ancient or modern battle and thence to a dissertation on the uniforms of various brigades of Irish fighters, right down to the buttons.  Then we'd hear how the county we were passing through was faring in wildly popular amateur sports of hurling and Gaelic football, followed by a discussion of the rules and tactics of the games.  It was never dull and was greatly enhanced by the soft Dublin accent.

* * *

The Cliffs at Sliabh Liag

Sliabh Liag

A hurricane was approaching.  Katia had been growing in strength over the past two weeks since first spotted off the west coast of Africa and she was now getting ready to slam into Ireland.  This day, we were seeing the wind and rains of the storm's leading edge as we wound up the hills of the Sliabh Liag (Slieve League) Peninsula.  On the southern coast of that peninsula are the highest cliffs in Ireland -- topping 1,900 ft (600 m).  We stopped at a cafe/gift shop to change buses and were joined by a wiry old gent by the name of Paddy ("not Patty -- there are no Patties in Ireland").  Paddy was a entertainer in the finest Irish style, so we learned our history, geography and natural sciences with a good dollop of humor.

You might expect tall cliffs over the ocean to be stark and forbidding.  Not always so.  Sliabh Liag is covered in lush grass and heather -- the latter in glorious bloom -- and well populated with Ireland's ubiquitous sheep.  We learned that these hillsides were a blanket bog ecology, characterized by a deep peat layer that supports heather and other acid-loving plants.  Bogs, which cover about 1/6 of the land area of Ireland, are essentially a man-made phenomenon.  6,000 years ago, the whole of Ireland was thickly forested with both deciduous and evergreen trees.  As the agrarian wave spread across Europe and then to the western islands, more and more trees were cleared for farming, so that by 500 B.C.E or so, much of the land had be denuded.  Without a network of tree roots to bind the soil, the constant rains leached out the nutrients, making it suitable only for hardier plants like heather and rushes.  When these plants die, they don't readily decompose (due largely to the acidity), so that layer upon layer of their detritus builds up as the years go by.  Today, a bog can be up to 5 meters (16 feet) deep, depending on age and moisture content.  Wet bogs have amazing preservative qualities; trees, animals and quite a few humans have been found remarkably intact -- though turned as black as coal -- after thousands of years.

The wind was tearing at our jackets and fitful bursts of rain foretold of the coming storms.  As we walked along the cliff road, Paddy told us of the interesting role these cliffs played in the allied efforts during World War II, although Ireland was neutral in that fight.  Planes coming in from the Atlantic were not allowed to land in Ireland, needing to fly onward to the coast of England.  To provide some measure of aid, however, the denizens of Sliabh Liag carved huge numerals into the face of the bog so that the navigators could verify their coordinates.  More than 60 years later, these are still faintly visible.

After our time in the wild weather, it was good to get back to the safety of the cafe and the warmth of scones and coffee.  Thus fortified, we straggled back to the bus for the next leg.

Ardara, Co. Donegal

Loom at Triona Design

If it's tweed you'd be wanting, Donegal is the place.  The one thing I really wanted to obtain while in Ireland was a good quality 'ivy' or driving cap.  There was some discussion, and it was decided that our next stop would be at a shop in Ardara, half-an-hour or so up the road.

The Mulhern family, owners of Triona Design on the main street in Ardara, have been in the tweed business for five generations.  Anne Mulhern greeted us warmly, then shuttled us to the back of the shop, a space dominated by a massive wooden loom.  During the week, weavers work this loom all day long, turning out dozens of yards of cloth.  Much of it is then assembled into garments in their basement tailor shop.  Half way through Anne's talk, a man appeared with a tray of Irish coffees, compliments of the house.  Our shopping experience suddenly became more joyous!

Within a short time, I found the perfect hat -- a burly Harris tweed in warm gray that was made from Triona's cloth by The Hatman of Ireland, based in Galway.  Leanne had an enjoyable time trying on jackets, and selected one in a beautiful deep brown.  Nearly everyone walked out of there with something (or several somethings) grand and I'm certain that the folks at Triona Design were happy to have seen us!

The Dolmen at Kilclooney

Kilclooney Dolmen and himself with the hat.

All over Ireland, one may find stone structures called dolmens, also known as "portal tombs".  The typical Irish dolmen consists of three or more base stones topped by a larger table-like slab.  In fact, the word "dolmen" derives from the Breton (French Celtic) words taol maen, meaning "stone table".  Our last stop of the day was at one of the larger examples -- the Kilclooney Dolmen -- not far from Ardara.  As you can tell from the photo (using my 5' 10" self for comparison), these are massive stones.  They were placed here for purposes largely unknown by Irelanders of the Neolithic Period (the "New Stone Age"), which makes them somewhere between 3,000 and 4,000 years old.  This one, as many are, was set in the middle of privately owned bog land and accessible by a sheep gate that opened to a raised path.  The sky was alternating between overcast and patches of blue but would close in completely by the time we were ready to leave.  



Lunch at Leo's

Shopping and dolmen-inspecting is hungry work and, by the time we were done in mid afternoon, we were well ready for lunch.  Our promised land was a pub called Leo's Tavern in the the town of Meenaleck, West Donegal.  It was another hour up the road but we were assured that it'd be worth the wait.  Leo, the owner, has the distinction of being the father of the famed Irish singer Enya.  The walls of the place were festooned with Enya memorabilia -- gold and platinum records and the like -- and a big screen in the corner played Enya videos on continuous rotation.  Pints were ordered up and sandwiches provided and soon, all was right with the world again.

Day's End

Back to the bus then, and a final hour's ride back to Letterkenny.  In contrast to the upstairs bar, the drinking establishment off the lobby of Gallagher's bears a great resemblance to a real pub.  We stopped in for a drap o' th' Tullamore Dew and to while away the time until dinner.  Life could be a lot worse.

A Tour of Ireland: Day One

The last I saw of Ireland was through the small rectangle of window, eclipsed by a slice of wing.  The tarmac flashed by with gathering speed.  Way off in the distance, the green hills wavered and faded beneath the clouds.

* * *
September 8, 2011

View from Knocknarea

Getting there was not easy.  Hurricane Lee had unleashed its fury on the Mid-Atlantic and was flinging buckets of rain against the windows as we pulled the last of our stuff together and packed it into the car.  The radio warned of flash floods and road closures.   Fortunately, we had plenty of time to drop the dog at the kennel and get to BWI for our flight to Newark.

Halfway to the airport, Monica, our friend and the director of our tour, called to say that Continental Airlines was "canceling flights left and right" due to the weather.  We gave her our flight number and learned that it was an hour behind but still scheduled to go.  So far.  Since this could change at any minute and we could not miss our plane to Ireland, she suggested Amtrak as an alternative.   Leanne phoned Continental to try to salvage our investment in the fare while I called Amtrak to reserve two tickets.  New destination: Penn Station, Baltimore.

We arrived at the station with minutes to spare for the 11:03.  Out of the car at full tilt and off to the ticket counter.  I reached for my phone to retrieve the reservation number and -- no phone.  Stomach takes fast elevator to the ground floor.  I tell Leanne and she bursts out the doors to try to catch our neighbor Brent, who is now driving our car back home.  Brent has no cell phone.  I chew my finger nails.  Long minutes later, she's back, waving my phone.  I had knocked it off of my belt in my haste getting out of the car.  The man who maintains the taxi stand had spotted it on the sidewalk and was getting ready to report it when he saw Leanne run out to the street, then run back.  Putting two and two together, he stopped her and showed her the phone.  Our hero!

With tickets purchased we scuttled toward the platform, only to learn that the train was running late.  Good -- time enough for a bite of lunch.  Around the corner to the little cafe for some pre-packaged sandwiches -- just as it's being announced that the train is not arriving in half an hour, it's arriving now.

The ride to Newark International was uneventful.  This was good because, frankly, we'd had our fill of events.  Soon after arriving at the airport, we were greeting our friends: the dozen people with whom we'd spend the next 10 days.

* * *

It takes a bit more than six hours to fly the 3,200 miles from Newark to Dublin.  Most of this was in the dark.  I had an e-book to keep me company so the bulk of my time was spent in the glow of an iPad.  I slept a very little in the cramped seat, fidgeting to find the least-uncomfortable position.  Finally, as day was breaking, patches of ground appeared beneath the thinning clouds.  Several more minutes and we were touching down in a place further from home than I'd ever been; an island in an ocean I'd seen only from one side.

Fuzzy-headed and coffee-deficient, we gathered up our luggage and walked the long corridor to customs.  Our newly-minted passports got their first stamp.  After changing our money to Euros, we collected in the lobby to meet John Byrne, who would be our driver, guide, historian and Irish language tutor for the next several days.  First stop: breakfast.

* * *
September 9, 2011

The Man-O'-War Pub lies on the old road between Dublin and Belfast.  It has been there a long time. The earliest deed says 1595.  Much of it has been renovated (probably several times) so that what one sees is a cozy and well-kept wood and stone interior, housed in the typical white-washed building that can be found everywhere on the island.  You can still find a part of the original stone wall inside the thatch-roofed section of the rambling structure.  Breakfast was rich and meaty by American standards: link sausages and rashers (bacon), poached eggs, a patty of hash-browned potatoes and something called "black and white pudding".  You can look this up, if you like.  I thought that they were "putting on the dog" for the benefit of the American tourists but soon discovered that this is the archetypal Irish breakfast.  By the end of the trip, we were happy for a break from all that protein!

* * *

Stone of Destiny on the Hill of Tara

Though we love our pubs, the heart of our excursion to Eire was to listen to the echoes of the deep past -- specifically, those of our Celtic and Pagan roots.  Not far from Dublin, along the M3 road is the ancient Hill of Tara.  This is where the old Kings were crowned and it is one of the most sacred sites in Ireland.  Parts of it date back to the Neolithic Era -- perhaps as early as 3,400 years B.C.E.  We were greeted there by an engaging young woman name Agnes, who filled our ears with stories of Tara, stressing its significance from ancient into modern times.

Entrance to the Mound of the Hostages

The passage tomb called "The Mound of the Hostages" is the oldest place on Tara.  It consists of a circular structure of stones mounded over with earth.  From the outside, it simply looks like a low hill but there is a doorway in one side that opens to the interior passage.  Here have been found the cremated remains of a several dozen people -- probably people of prominence within their community.  Archeologists have also found one of the most curious and inexplicable set of human remains here: on top of the mound is the skeleton of a teenage boy, buried curled up on his side.  He wears necklace of amber and jet beads -- items that would have been rare and precious at the time of his death.  There's also evidence that these remains had been disinterred and carried to Tara from elsewhere.  Who was this boy and why was he so important to the ancients?

* * *

The next stop was the Brú na Bóinne (Palace of the Boyne) Visitor's Center, just a little up the road from the Hill of Tara.  They have an extensive exhibit of artifacts and dioramas that allowed us to gain a bit more information and context before marching across the River Boyne to the bus that would take us to Knowth.

Kerb Stone at Knowth

At Knowth, they did passage tombs with a vengeance.  While less famous than the nearby Newgrange site, it still features a number of tombs.  One -- the Great Mound -- measures nearly 70 meters in diameter and contains the longest passage (about 40 meters) yet found in Western Europe.  We were allowed into the mouth of the passage (duck your head!) and off into a side chamber fitted out as an exhibit space.  Because of the great age of the artifacts and the fact that the ancient Irish had no written language, little is known save through inference or speculation.

Most of the larger tombs are completely ringed by massive "kerb stones", many of them decorated with carved designs.  There are spirals and serpentine (snake-like) shapes, as well as one that might have served as a sundial.

After a spot of lunch and shopping back at the visitor's center, we re-boarded the 20 passenger bus that would be our home-away-from-home for the duration of our travels.  Driver John filled us in on local lore and some political history on the long road to Letterkenny in County Donegal, and taught us our first phrase in Irish: Dia duit (pronounced "dee-ya gwit") the common way of saying "good day".   And with that, I bid you dia duit!


More to follow

A Possible Future: The United States Becomes Several Nations

Yesterday, I posted a Question on Facebook in the form of the following assertion:

America would benefit from being broken up into several autonomous countries whose political philosophies better match those of its citizens.

 -- and invited everyone on my friends list to weigh in.  In all, the question received 47 votes: 15 "Yes" and 32 "No".  Several people also responded with comments and I've printed them all below (without attribution).

***

I started thinking about this question many years ago, when my father-in-law brought the idea up in conversation.  It's possible that he was referring to an idea proposed by Joel Garreau in his book, "Nine Nations of North America" (1981, Houghton Mifflin, Boston).  You can find out more about the book here: http://bit.ly/gsKMCS

I was moved to ask the question yesterday after reading something a few days ago in the book "A Pattern Language" by Christopher Alexander, et. al. (1977, Oxford Univ. Press):

"There are natural limits to the size of groups that can govern themselves in a human way . . . It's not hard to see why the government of a region become less and less manageable with size. In a population of N persons, there are of the order of N-squared person-to-person links needed to keep the channels of communication open. Naturally, when N goes beyond a certain limit, the channels of communication needed for democracy and justice and information are simply too clogged, and too complex, and bureaucracy overwhelms human processes . . . We believe the limits are reached when the population of a region reaches some 2 to 10 million."

(Pattern 1 - "Independent Regions")

Let me be clear that I'm not suggesting that we scrap the United States in order to resolve the current cultural and class "wars" that have us all so uneasy.  There have been divisions before, some far worse than today's, and we've managed to get past them and emerge as a whole nation.  The factor that makes it more difficult to support a unified nation is this: 311,219,292.  This is was the U.S. Census Bureau's estimate of the total population just a few seconds ago.  If you go there now (http://1.usa.gov/dVc4Ez) it'll be higher still.  

When we began as a nation the population was a bit more than 100th of today's (3,929,214 in 1790) and we had a land area of around 360,000 square miles (vs. the current 3.79million square miles).  Not only do we have 100-fold more people, each with their own concerns, challenges, virtues and vices, but we now have regions with wildly different geography, population density, natural resources, economic bases, etc.  Originally, these differences were addressed by a strong reliance on the Constitution's protection of states rights but, as time went on, more and more functions were ceded to the federal government.  As you can well imagine, developing a unified vision for the fate of this vast land and its people is well nigh impossible.  I suspect we'll continue to try, perhaps even for a long time, but I do think that eventually, it will become too unweildy for the whole of this nation to sail under one flag.

***

Your comments:

Yes

Absolutely! The US is too big to be a functioning democracy. I've advocated this breakup a la Soviet style for years! Let's do it!

Yes

That is what some of the prophecies have pointed too after a major earth change.

No

Well, this is basically a question of decentralization of governance. (Assuming that everyone who lives in each country agrees with each other.) If we have the big honkin' government we have now, obviously there is going to be differences of opinion, which leads to compromise. Which isn't necessarily such a bad thing. If we split everything off, then each country will move in its own direction more quickly, but there are a few problems with this.

First, there is overhead with regards to any enterprise, and when you have several smaller entities all operating parallel to each other, there is unnecessary waste, such as running their own governments, funding the military, maintaining an economy, etc. One country does it more efficiently.

The second problem is that we're talking about the welfare of the people, and obviously there are some diametrically opposed viewpoints floating around. If we had separate countries all sitting here next to each other, there would be conflict. Much of it would be economic, but even some armed, especially when you consider that there are only so many natural resources to go around, and they're going to become more scarce as the climate changes and our population continues to expand like a day-time TV viewer subsisting on peanut butter cups and peeps.

The real question is "if we were allowed to actualize on our ideals, would we be able to breathe life back into the spirit of the country, and become great again?" Some places would flourish - there are bound to just be better perspectives than others, but would the whole of the people considered benefit? I don't think so. My thoughts behind this stem from the thought that people are people no matter what the thought experiment. We're bound to foul up any system given enough time, and that just leaves us with many countries having a problem with zeitgeist instead of one. At least with things as they are, the few can still benefit the many.

No

I think we should stay we are, throw all the rascals out, start over and grow up!!!

No

I don't see it that way. Why turn diversity into division? E Pluribus Unum. That's one of the great strengths of this country. We are always going to have differences, sometimes acrimoniously so, but out of those growing pains we will continue to evolve and develop. You take away diversity, you take away the stimulus to do so. Does anybody want instead a bunch of boring monolithic countries, each marching in its own lockstep? Plus, let's be real, how long would they stay that way anyway? Diversity is increasingly becoming one of the most valued attributes of the evolving human condition. We are stronger growing together, and diverse.

No

Can you imagine the immigration mess? Once it settled down, there would then be chaos as each State tried to set up a government. Oh boy.

No

I think Mr. Lincoln and U S Grant already settled that question.

No

I agree with ____'s comment about the Articles and the CSA, but would add:

The EU, which is about halfway between our articles of confederation and our Constitution, is already showing major stresses;

If Lincoln had simply allowed the South to secede, it would have permitted the South's political philosophy of slavery - which better matched its citizens - to continue, possibly to this very day;

Arguments that take place in the Congress among holders of different philosophies would likely turn into actual shooting wars among the autonomous countries - and note that the greatest US loss of life in any war was the war between the USA and the CSA.

No

I'm voting no, not because I don't believe that the population isn't divided in opinion, but because we settled that shit in 1865! The knuckle draggers in every state are just going to have to come to the 21st century with the rest of us, and if we make education and tolerance our national policy, they will eventually. Right now we are watching the death thrashes of conservative throwback politics, the new demographic is on the rise.

No

Yeah the Tenn,. senate just approved a bill that would make it illegal to mention the existence of gay people to any student. Sorry i don't believ people have a right to be This ignorant.

No

I think it's the thinking that we can all be separated, is the basic problem in America. We are all of one fabric. What hurts one person, hurts us all. The idea of adding just another boundary, isolates us even further. Do you think it could ever be acceptable for one person to have healthcare, while another goes without? Country barriers don't shield the shame of such a condition, only make it more difficult to solve. A child could see it, we are all connected. This issue is how to teach the adults to reclaim the wisdom they were born with. 

No

Seems like the country tried that twice ... The Articles of Confederation - 1783-1787 and the Confederate States of America - 1861 to 1865. But maybe I'm being simplistic.

No

This is a very interesting question, but I come down on No along with ___.

Part of America's strength lies in our diversity. We are living out some giant experiment, in which the most rebellious, change-seeking people in the entire world have gathered here to quarrel amongst ourselves until we reach some sort of consensus on how to govern our country. The pendulum of political opinion swings between liberal and conservative, never pausing for long. Right now we have reached a place I find extremely uncomfortable, but change is the byword and this won't be permanent.

____  just walked by and in his opinion, that there is a larger division between urban and rural dwellers in the same state than there is between the different states. That's certainly an important factor also. Rural areas are always more conservative than urban melting pots of diversity.

Texas has been talking for years about succeeding. I wish them well, but think they are nuts. In some ways, the union would be better off without them: through (misguided and short sighted) legislation, they have ruined their own state for anyone but mega-wealthy people. If they leave the union, they would be hoist with their own petard soon enough.....Gail Collins in the NYT has been writing about how terrible the social indicators are in Texas for months, as a warning: Texas has actually implemented many of the legislative approaches recommended by the TeaBaggers, and the results are sad, shameful and discouraging to anyone with a net worth under 6 figures, and to anyone who cares what happens in the future.

No

Many of the people I hold most dear in life live in Indiana. I would never wish this upon them. And besides, this issue was already visited back in 1861-1865.

No

No way. You miniaturize the political structure and you give already too powerful multinationals an even smaller bill to buy off politicians. See old style representatives and the reforms that happened surrounding them as an example of exactly this...

Maybe

I am undecided. There is a part of me that is in love with the idea we can all work together no matter our differences, towards a common goal of the greater good for everyone. But the realist in says that just is not possible with the way the world is moving.

Maybe

That is a tough one...let me think about it!

Maybe

Let the South rise again?