Cui Bono Fuisset?

These Latin words, most famously used by Cicero in two of his speeches in defense of persons accused of crime, are generally translated as, variously, "who benefits?" or "for whose benefit?" or "for whose advantage?".  He credited them to the Roman censor and consul Cassius Longinus Ravilla.  The question is usually shortened to "cui bono?".

It's a question commonly asked, though not necessarily in Latin, during investigations of conduct; notably, criminal conduct.  It inquires into motive.  Why would someone do such and such, which leads necessarily to the inquiry--who would benefit from doing it?

The Latin phrase comes to my mind, like Zardoz, when I hear of another mass killing through use of firearms, especially the semi-automatic known as the AR-15 and other weapons designed to mimic automatic weapons typically used in the military, and it would seem increasingly "militarized" law enforcement agencies.  Specifically, it comes to mind when the leadership of the NRA and others leap to defend the sale of such firearms in the wake of these murders, and also promote arming teachers and others to prevent them from taking place.

The response typically given in reply to calls for banning or limiting firearms like the AR-15 is that they're not really military weapons, not assault rifles, not automatic weapons.  This is somewhat understandable as it's not uncommon for those seeking to restrict them to assume they are such weapons.  This kind of response, however, is a non-response, in my opinion.  Whether their sale should be restricted is not dependent on the fact that far more lethal weapons exist.  Based on what I've read, such a firearm is capable for firing 45-60 rounds a minute, depending on the skill of the shooter.  Of course, it may also be rendered automatic for all practical purposes by a bump stock, as we learned in the Las Vegas massacre.  Regardless, though, what is the argument against restricting sale of such a weapon which may, through use of easily used and well-stocked magazines, be employed in firing 45-60 rounds a minute?

If they're not restricted, cui bono?  Manufacturers and sellers of such weapons do, of course.  They would benefit as well if teachers were armed, or armed guards employed.  Money is the constant in their universe of gun control.  They win everyway if only they can sell more guns.  Fear of guns used by others induces the fearful to buy guns.  What, really, do they care if money is the only consideration?

I would maintain hunters and sport shooters do not.  They're not needed to hunt or to break clay pigeons.  Someone using one to do so would I think seem, well, weird.  And not in a good way.  Should the fact gun manufacturers/seller want to make more money figure in this debate?  Absolutely not, again in my opinion.

Who would use them, who would need them?  Who would benefit from them?  I suppose there are those who find them desirable in what I would call a creepy way.  Firearms which mimic military or automatic weapons may make some people with self-esteem problems, or who are excessively fearful or whose self-regard is conditioned on posing or appearing  as a soldier or mercenary or something, feel better or good if they own them.  Should free sale of such weapons be allowed in order to maintain their enjoyment in possessing if not using them?  The peculiarities of such people shouldn't figure in assessing whether and to what extent such weapons should be regulated.

What about what gun advertisers like to call "home defense"?  How likely is it that, in order to protect my home, I'll require a firearm allowing me to fire 45-60 rounds a minute as opposed to the shotguns I own now (personally, I'm not over concerned with home defense, but let's take into consideration the fact that some people are concerned)?  Not very likely.

Unless, perhaps, one accepts what I think is a rather fantastic view, that such weapons will be needed to prevent the government from harming me or my family.  I cannot.  The thought of indefinitely holding off any reasonably large and well-armed body of government agents from the security of my home, or vehicle, or from anywhere else strikes me as remarkably fanciful, at best; deluded at worst.

Do collectors of weapons benefit?  Well, we must make a judgment between whether we continue to gratify collectors or restrict weapons which have such potential to do harm.  My judgment is that the potential to do harm outweighs the desire of a collector.

What about the benefit derived by the defenders of the Second Amendment?  I've been a lawyer too long, perhaps.  I know that the rights granted by the Bill of Rights and the Constitution are and have always been subject to reasonable restriction.  The right to bear arms doesn't in any case imply a right to bear or have any arms one wants.  The Second Amendment will not disappear if such weapons are restricted.

For me, it's difficult to think of any good reason for acquiring such weapons.  So, I tend to think that most of those who buy them are not doing so for hunting, or sport shooting, or collecting but have other uses or purposes in mind, which likely are unreasonable and may do harm.  I would have no objection to such weapons being banned.

Ashes to Ashes

A Happy Ash Wednesday to all!

Well, it comes after carnival, so it seems appropriate that a post about Ash Wednesday would follow one about carnival.  It seems inappropriate, though, to wish anyone a Happy Ash Wednesday.  That would be to take the "Ash" out of Ash Wednesday, would it not?  No, not happy.

For several years--many, I suppose--I duly submitted my forehead to be smudged with ashes once a year, as did, and do, many others.  It seems I can't claim that this was or is a peculiarly Catholic tradition.  Certain Protestant churches "celebrate" Ash Wednesday as well.  The One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church has no monopoly on the ritual of misery.

"Remember, man, thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return."  The Latin is: “Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.”  This is (or was?) the cheerful reminder dispensed along with ashes by priests on this insistently mournful day.  From Genesis 3:19.  We're reminded we're mortal.  So, supposedly, were those in ancient Rome granted a triumph--memento mori they were told as they rode their chariot along the Sacred Way; remember you are mortal.  It's a reminder that seemingly was ignored then, as it no doubt is ignored now, to the extent possible.  Who wants to be reminded of their upcoming death?

Nobody, I would think.  But it is apparently the function if not the delight of certain religions and certain of the religious to remind us of it nonetheless.  One could say that this reminder is made only in the course of reminding us as well that our salvation, and eternal life, is nonetheless guaranteed to us by the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus, if only we believe in him.  And so we celebrate Easter.  If we don't believe in him, though, then we'll be among the dust burning in hell, if dust does indeed burn.  Or so some would say, in any event.  Thus, one could also say that the reminder serves as a warning of the horrible fate which awaits us when we die, unless...we repent, and change our evil ways, and believe.  Then, death will have no sting.  It will come, yes, but only as to the body.

It strikes me as strange, given the body-soul distinction made in Christianity, that relics of saints came to be given such importance, and were ascribed miraculous powers.  Some saint or martyr's bone is revered, and causes the blind to see and the lame to walk.  But why, if the soul has left the body?  Was the saint in question so very holy that holiness seeped into his/her body?

I think the Day of the Dead celebrated in Mexico is far less dreadful (literally) than such "reminders" of death as Ash Wednesday.  Unsurprisingly, this event derives from a custom in place before the arrival of the Spanish.  The dead are remembered and cherished.  Those who participate are reminded of death, certainly, but also of life as lived.  Those gone live again, or at least are treated as living; remembered as they were, and invited to participate in a family feast or celebration.

Even more significant is the fact that those living continue to live, and live with the dead and the knowledge of death.  Death is a part of living, and so loses its sting in a far more real sense than it does when its sting is thought to dissipate from the promise of some existence after death, one that can only be imagined.  The wise among the ancients, like the Stoics, thought death had no sting as well, and didn't fear it. 

Fear of it is inspired when it's viewed not merely as an end, but also a beginning--of suffering.  Death is a threat of sorts, now; the threat of hell and punishment if you don't do what you should do, think what you should think, in the craven system of morality that's been fostered here and elsewhere by those who think right and wrong are determined by divine command.  If they are, though, there is no right or wrong, really.  There is just the command.

"Our life is what our thoughts make it."  So says Marcus Aurelius, and Epictetus.  So is our death.

(Don't?) Stop the Carnival

It being February, it seems appropriate to address the ritual, or celebration, of carnival in the West.  It's a time of feasting, parading, drinking, role-reversal and excess.  Reveling, I suppose it could be called; silliness, joyous stupidity, on glorious display.

It seems we can't attribute carnival to the ancient Romans, or for that matter blame them for it, as we can certain other celebrations.  The only festival of ancient Rome I'm aware of taking place in what we call February was that of the Lupercalia.  That festival was in the nature of a purification ritual, a cleansing of he city before spring.  A kind of spring cleaning?  In any case, it seems it involved the sacrifice of a male goat or goats and a dog, after which members of its priesthood would run naked around the Palatine Hill, striking onlookers with strips of the sacrificed animals.  This was apparently a cause of laughter.  Still, it hardly seems like carnival as we know it today.

It was a pre-Christian celebration though, and one the early Church decided was so popular it had to be allowed to continue, though Christianized.  And so it marks the period before Lent.  Thus, we're allowed to wallow in our animal nature and indulge its seemingly endless capacity for depravity of some sort or another before we do harsh penance for being human until Easter, that time of the Resurrection and, oddly, bunnies and eggs, real or chocolate.

The title to this post is taken from a novel by Herman Wouk, Don't Stop the Carnival.  The novel involved the efforts of an American business man who decided to try to run a hotel on a fictional Caribbean island.  As might be expected, he found it difficult to do, mostly as a result of the fact that he, as an American, was incapable of understanding that the islanders were not nearly as concerned with, or impressed by, the needs of operating a business in the American way.  As also might be expected, it is a stereotypical portrayal of a clash of cultures, particularly that of the Caribbean, for comic effect.  Fans of the Caribbean (I am one) may find it enjoyable, even for other reasons.

There's another kind of carnival, though, that Americans are familiar with as traveling shows involving amusement rides, games of chance, freak shows, vendors of various kinds of unhealthy food, and operated by those known as Carnies or Carnys, who have the general reputation of con artists.

I begin to wonder whether our Glorious Republic has taken on the aspect of this latter kind of carnival.  Whether, in other words, it has become a vast, stationary show put on by con artists of one kind or another, who seek for selfish reasons to distract and amuse us while they fleece us like the dumb, gullible sheep we seem intent on being.

It's a show where freaks abound, and are on permanent and blatant display.  There are rides and games aplenty, shills, hawkers, barkers, con artists are everywhere.

It's a carnival of the irrational, even of the absurd.  Professional athletes praise God for their victories, and this is found admirable but should be viewed as blasphemous--what kind of God intervenes to decide the outcome of a football/basketball/baseball game?  A very small one, I would think.  At least Homer's gods intervened in the serious business of a war, though even a war on this tiny dot in the universe can only be of slight significance.

There are outcries over the fact that a character in a movie is not portrayed as being openly gay, because the author of the work decided to indulge an impulse, incomprehensible to me, to declare the character's sexual preferences.  If Dumbledore is gay, what's the sexuality of the other non-existent characters in those books or movies?  Does Hagrid practice bestiality?

Our politicians are too busy trying to win political points, accumulate cash, and browning their noses to engage in the nation's serious business.  Our artists, such as they are, thoughtless and mendacious.  Our statesmanship is short-sighted, our culture--well, perhaps Oscar Wilde was right about us.

Should the carnival that America has become stop, or continue?  Epictetus wisely said that life is a feast, and that we should sample what comes our way during the feasting that's to our liking, taking never too much or too little, without hurry.   We can't control the carnival; neither can we control the feast.  The show will go on, it's fruitless to protest or deplore the fact that it does and will.  What can we do but the best we can that's within our power?  Enjoy the carnival, if you can.  If you can't, ignore it.