Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin

According to the Book of Daniel, Belshazzar, King of Babylon, was enjoying a feast with his friends and courtiers using implements taken from the Temple of Solomon when he was surprised to see a hand, attached to no visible body, scribbling the words of the title to this post on a nearby wall.  As these tales usually go, all else failing one of the captive Jews, the Prophet Daniel, was summoned to explain the writing and the words (I see "parsin" used for "upharsin" sometimes).  As one might expect, Daniel informed the King that the hand was that of God, and the writing informed those interested that Belshazzar and his kingdom had been weighed and assessed, and their days counted, and they would soon come to an end.  And so they did eventually, courtesy of Cyrus the Great and his Medes and Persians.

This is the famous "Writing on the Wall."  When you see that writing, you know it will soon all be over for yourself and other persons and things.

Did we see the "writing on the wall" last night, in a presidential debate which it may be said will live in infamy like Pearl Harbor Day?  For our Great Republic and for some if not all of us as its citizens?

No ghostly, or godly, hand or writing appeared, but much else did, none of it worthy, all of it unworthy.  In fairness, it may be noted that efforts were made by the moderator and one of the participants in the debate (or what passes as a debate here) to act with a certain dignity of the kind which should attend these proceedings.  But the other participant acted with no dignity whatsoever and with a clear intent sought to deprive the debate of any usefulness or merit, assuring it would be merely unseemly and chaotic.  Much as he is, it's sad to say.  His pandering to adherents of white supremacy was more than unseemly, of course, but that is part of his character, such as it is.

Recent political debates here have not been impressive as a rule.  We haven't seen and apparently will never again see the likes of such debates as those engaged in by Lincoln and Douglas, for example.  However, it has at least been possible for participants in a debate to state, if not explain, their positions on matters of import, and to appear as if they were adults worthy of a minimum amount of respect, credible if not especially intelligent or honorable representatives of their constituents.

In this case, though, it was as if the rules that govern responsible and intelligent public conduct among adults had been forsaken, and we were spectators, on a global scale, of a dispute taking place on a playground among elementary school level contestants.  This is our politics, now; these are our politicians; this is the picture we present to the world.  It's a picture than must delight some, given the American tendency to pontificate regarding morals and conduct.

We must expect that Republicans, who it seems have become the most craven and appeasing of our politicians, will at most say nothing at all about the conduct of the candidate of their party.  It must be expected as well that what the media delights in calling the president's "base" will tolerate and even applaud his latest caperings.  Unfortunately, we've come to expect and even hope that disagreements among us appear to be bar-fights or exhibitions of chest-pounding.  We're now convinced that life is what it's portrayed to be in TV, movies and video games, or at least should be that.  It's no surprise that professional wrestling is so popular in our Glorious Union.

What, if anything, has been written on our wall?  Not necessarily the end of our nation.  But it may be the end of pretensions to being a civilized, superior, nation.  If we're willing if not eager to have our leaders engage in spectacles of this kind, or to have leaders who are incapable of acting any other way than with a thoughtless and crude belligerence in public forums in which important issues are supposed to be addressed, than we've become brutal.  We have no basis on which we can claim to teach or lead the world.  The days of our preeminence in world affairs, of being a force for the good of humanity, have been counted, I'm afraid.  In that respect, at least, we are being found wanting.

 

Welcome to the Fifth Circle

The Fifth Circle of Hell as described in Dante's cheery Divine Comedy is populated by the wrathful, those condemned by their indulgence in the sin of Anger, broadly speaking.  Anger expressed, and Anger repressed.  Those souls condemned for the expression of Anger spend their unending time fighting each other near the surface of the river Styx, or the mud or marsh associated with that river.  Those that are condemned for the repression of Anger, the sullen, are lodged farther beneath the surface, complaining or perhaps better yet stewing at the bottom of the fiery mud and water.  Their complaints appear as bubbles on the surface.

It seems we're in the Fifth Circle of our own peculiar hell.  Medusa and the Furies may not be in evidence as they we're in Dante, but we have plenty of figures that resemble them among us.  

We're possessed by a curious anger, I would say.  At least some of us are.  For a president to refuse to accept the outcome of an election before it takes place, should it go against him, is obviously unprecedented in our Great Republic.  Therefore, it's also unprecedented that this fact seemingly leaves many of us unconcerned.  Our commitment to representative government as well as the rule of law is questionable.  We've heard of such doings in the past in connection with other nations, called "banana republics."  Have we become one?  Ben Franklin famously said we have a republic, if we can keep it.  Perhaps we no longer can, or no longer want one.

If so, how and why did this transformation take place?  One tires of comparisons with the Roman Empire, but are the satires of Juvenal, coming as they did after the Roman Republic was replaced by the Roman Empire, suggestive?

The People who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions...everything, now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses.

 Or perhaps Cicero is more apropos:

The evil was not bread and circuses, per se, but in the willingness of the people to sell their rights as free men for full bellies for the excitement of the games which would serve to distract them from the other human hungers which bread and circuses can never achieve.

The consuls and the Senate handed out just about everything in the Roman Republic, except when a dictator was appointed, and not the "people" as we would understand that word, so Juvenal may be said to exaggerate.  Also, the real people may have been more concerned with their bellies then than now.  But we love entertainment as much if not more than the people of Rome did, although they were less adverse to the sight of blood and death than we are, as a rule, except as portrayed in TV and movies and, of course, video games.  And, if the "bread" referred to by these ancient writers is thought of broadly as securing continued life, in a more or less comfortable condition, I think there is something analogous involved.

Personal security and self-satisfaction seem of particular concern to us now.  Provided we're not interfered with, called upon to do things we need not do (particularly for others), and are reassured with some frequency that our way of life is proper and indeed admirable, we're content.  We're perfectly happy if someone else makes the important decisions.  It bothers many of us not at all.  We resent having to make such decisions and, worse yet, having to think about what's involved in making them.

We particularly resent any implication that we can or should be better than we are or that there are others less fortunate than we are, who should be given assistance.  That makes us very angry.  We fear the less fortunate, and being selfish we are suspicious that that they're selfish too, and so envy us and wish us harm.  We want security, sameness and salvation from the perceived evils of others and the world at large.  We want a leader who thinks as we do, and will protect us from those who don't.

Comfort in Frustration

I think of this quote of Schiller's from time to time.  Now is such a time, as the great, tawdry and tiresome spectacle of a presidential election is interminably played out before us in all its squalid splendor.

There's something unseemly in every election here in our Glorious Union, and I suspect elsewhere.  It comes from the fact that all politicians must whore themselves out in several ways to obtain the dubious distinction of election.  Having been elected, they'll exchange favors for money required to seek reelection and then, again, engage in the posturing needed to convince people to cast their votes so they may continue to pursue corruption.

But even the cynical must acknowledge that this particular election is special; worthy of note as a spectacle remarkable among the spectacularly sad mummery that makes up our politics.  Never has stupidity played such a significant role, though it's always an important factor in the choices we collectively make.

I don't speak specifically of the stupidity of the contestants, though I think that of one of them is profound, and that of the other is more in the nature of a habit acquired by any politician of long standing who must perforce exercise what intelligence he/she possesses narrowly and for a limited purpose.  I speak of our stupidity,  i.e. that of the electors.

I find it difficult to explain what seems to be the ubiquity of stupidity in these times.  The disregard and suspicion of scientific and medical knowledge, the fundamentalist, literalist nature of religious belief, the astonishing resurgence of belief in a "flat earth", the acceptance of the almost laughable conspiracy theories promoted by such as Qanon, the widespread belief in obvious lies and liars, are remarkable in the 21st century.  

How is it possible for us collectively to make an intelligent decision on any significant matter when we're so overwhelmed by what appears to be a determination and perhaps even a compulsion not to think?

Is this extraordinary indulgence in gullibility an especially American trait, or is it taking place elsewhere as well?

Is Schiller right?  If so, perhaps we can take some comfort in the fact that even divinities have no recourse, and are helpless when confronting the stupidity of humanity.  What must their frustration be given their omnipotence?  How can our frustration compare to theirs?

The stupidity of others is largely beyond our control, but even a Stoic can't be indifferent to, and must marvel at, stupidity at large, and is reduced to trying to limit personal stupidity.  The gods clearly are of no help if Schiller is correct.