Fear, Lies and the Liar

"Fear is an idiot" according to Ambrose Bierce.  As I recall, his point was that fear is unintelligent, indeed stupid in the extreme.  Fear cannot think, according to Bierce; it has no brain.  Thus, when possessed by fear (the equivalent in some ways to being possessed by a demon) a person has no brain, doesn't think--cannot think, in fact.

Bierce was treating Fear as if it was a person, or being of some kind, to which human attributes may be ascribed.  In the same fashion and for the same purpose, we may say that Fear is a liar.

How could it be otherwise if Fear is an idiot, incapable of thought?  Fear can't speak the truth as it can't know the truth. Ascertaining what is true in a particular case requires inquiry into a situation.  As C.S. Peirce and John Dewey would say, inquiry is appropriate and effective when there is a problem to be solved, i.e. when we're confronted with something uncertain, unclear, confusing.  Inquiry doesn't arise, though, when interpretation of circumstances is preconceived or predetermined.  Then analysis of a situation becomes a kind of special pleading.  What seems to be uncertain isn't construed as uncertain.  Instead, the situation is deemed to be an instance of X or Y, and efforts are made to make the circumstances conform to the assumption made without taking them into account in any meaningful way.

H.L. Mencken wrote that to a government, the most dangerous person (he said "man," actually) is someone who can think things out without regard to the prevailing superstition.  That may be true.  But in these strange times, who is there who can think things out, let alone think at all?

Lies are ubiquitous now.  Social media and some traditional media are full of them.  Some lies are made with the intent to confuse or promote fear.  Some lies are merely circulated, as instantly as they're made, by those who believe them.  Some merely misstate the facts.  But it seems that lies are believed more and more as more and more lies are made and spread across the World Wide Web, and repeated again and again.

We live in a propagandist's paradise.  Joseph Goebbels would be amazed by the possibilities available, and enthralled by the opportunities presented.  It's so very easy to lie, easier still to spread the lie, now.

Which brings us back to Fear.  There are many liars and so there is much fear.  We have a president who according to available evidence lies virtually every instant.  This is unusual even in a politician.  

Fear is here, and is as ubiquitous as are lies.  Fear of the new, fear of the strange, fear of change, primarily; fear of violence, fear of division, fear of displacement, fear of others unlike ourselves.  Fear the liar takes advantage of Fear the idiot.  Fear the idiot accepts the lies of Fear the liar, without reservation. Fear the liar incites Fear the idiot to thoughtless reaction and to a thoughtless desire to be free from fear and thought, or the need for thinking.

 

A Hoax of a Hoax

Normally, we hope not to be duped.  These aren't normal times, it seems.

We've grown to expect hoaxes.  That expectation, when intelligent, allows us to avoid being fooled.  There are many who wish to fool us, so the fact we anticipate they'll try to do so is useful.  We're watchful, we're careful to assess claims made.

That expectation, when unintelligent, leads us to be fooled by foolishly believing what isn't a hoax actually is a hoax.  While we believe we're being watchful and clever, we're in fact accepting a hoax--a hoax that inclines us to think a hoax is being perpetrated regarding what we would accept if we were using our intelligence.  We're in effect being duped twice; by ourselves and by others.

Perhaps we've seen so many hoaxes that we see them everywhere.  It's easier now to perpetuate a hoax than it was in the past, as our technology allows each of us to instantly communicate a hoax or create a hoax which will be instantly presented to millions.  We know, or at least most of know or at least suspect, that there are many who seek to provide false information through the Web and otherwise.  We know that those who seek to influence us are able to try to do so much more effectively than in the past.  There's good reason to believe that hoaxes abound.  

The peculiar thing is that despite this knowledge so many of us are so ready, even eager, to believe there are hoaxes without exercising judgment.  On the lookout for hoaxes, we think them omnipresent.  Many of us accept there is a hoax unthinkingly.  Instead of being on our guard against hoaxes, we are persuaded to accept that they exist without question.  It's an extraordinary compulsion to be suspicious that a hoax is taking place to such an extent that we don't suspect that there may be no hoax.

The saying that a sucker is born every minute is ascribed to P. T. Barnum.  The saying that nobody has ever lost money underestimating the intelligence of the American public has been attributed to H. L. Mencken.  Has anyone ever said that we are so concerned about being suckers that we necessarily are suckers?

One can speculate that our time is one of unreasonable, excessive suspicion, i.e. of paranoia.  Or, we can speculate that we're more stupid than we've ever been--something admittedly hard to believe, so spectacular is our record of stupidity.  Thus we think climate change is a hoax, or Covid 19 is a hoax, perpetuated by vaguely identified wrongdoers.  But I wonder if there's something even more insidious at work.

We're not stupider than we have been.  But we may have reached or it may be that we're reaching the limits of our ability, or even capacity, to think reasonably.  That may be due to the fact that we've never had to sift through so much information, so much misinformation, so many opinions, fears, emotions, beliefs, claims, allegations, actions, conduct, than we ever have had to in the past.  We're unable to do so in the face of all that we encounter, knowingly or unknowingly.  So, we react without thinking, and thereby fall back on what we accept without thought.

If we've reached the limit of our ability to think, there's some hope that with training in, for example, logic and the arts of rhetoric, we can process the information which overwhelms us with greater efficiency.  But here in our Great Republic, at least, I think it's likely that parents would object to any learning or training which would make their offspring think differently than they do.  

If we've reached the limit of our capacity to think, it's hard to predict what our fate will be, but there may be those who have the capacity left to think of themselves and what would be best for them (something that can be done by thinking in the narrowest sense, of oneself and nothing else) and act accordingly.

Homage to Hunter S. Thompson

I've only noticed recently, while reading Hey Rube,  the extent to which his work resembles that of another old favorite, H.L. Mencken.  I wonder somewhat why that's true.  I suppose it's because some of what he (Thompson) wrote was too full of references to drugs, and although Mencken certainly drank and would poke fun at the Prohibition law, I've read a great deal of him and have yet to find any extended comment on that peculiar thirteen year period in which the Volstead Act so greatly enhanced the lives of bootleggers and organized crime figures.

Otherwise, it seems to me that they wrote, and thought, much the same.  The writing of both men was flamboyant in some senses, and yet could be succinct and sharp.  Their personalities were different, Mencken being more or less conservative in his lifestyle, though drolly so, and Thompson being anything but that.  But they were both iconoclasts, suspicious of authority, impatient with stupidity, and contemptuous of politics and politicians.

Just what drove Thompson to take his own life I cannot say.  From what I read, he may have found himself surprised and overwhelmed by the fact he was aging and no longer capable of doing and enjoying what he used to do and enjoy, at least in some significant sense.

Thompson didn't write a great deal in his later years, but I'm enjoying reading his ruthless assessment of the Bush-Gore election and its principals, and of American politics in the early years of this century.  I can't help but think that he would have roused himself to comment as mercilessly on the politics and circumstances of this our time, and suspect he would have been even less restrained now than he was throughout his career, though restraint was never a part of his character.  He called America "The Kingdom of Fear" while he was alive, before our current encounter with and it seems acceptance of that combination of greed, fear, hatred, arrogance and ignorance which serves as the politics and culture of this sad time.  What would he call America now?

He would call it something, and it would be something bad.  Nasty, I would think, even as our nation has become nasty in a particularly vile way.  It is impossible to respect someone or some group of people who are spiteful, especially where the spite is encouraged and manipulated by the well-heeled; when, in other words, the spite is at the direction of the rich.  Their only purpose is generally to line their own pockets and/or those of their friends.

If there's one thing we could count on, it is that Thompson  wouldn't merely criticize, he would horsewhip those who rule us and seek nothing more than to retain their rule over those they dupe, in writing.  And it seems to me that there are none now willing or able to do such a thing.  Perhaps that's what must be done if one is to be noticed.

Most important of all, though, is that the criticism be not merely scathing but intelligent.  We live in a world where almost everyone has or can easily enough obtain an audience of like-minded associates, and many believe that they don't need intelligence, or wit, or knowledge to ponitificate.  Most any can make use of the World Wide Web or social media to say something, and they will do so, however ineptly, and will be listened to at least by some.  Mere spouting of ideas, such as they are, would make little impression among all the noise.  Faux outrage and anger are so common as to make no impression on those who listen to talk radio.

It would take something special to be noticed, and what is more special today than the ability to write or speak clearly and well?  Thompson could have done this.  I'm not sure anyone else can.

Absence of Honor

I find that the word "honor" is difficult to define.  A review of dictionary definitions will establish that it has various meanings depending, of course, on its use in a sentence.  It may be used as a noun or a verb.  But even limiting definition to the use of the word as a noun doesn't promote much in the way of clarity. Here, I mean by it a quality; a personal quality.  A quality which clearly is not possessed by any prominent person in our sad age.  I hope it's possessed by some of us nonetheless.

H.L. Mencken wrote that honor is simply the morality of the superior man.  Mencken had a tendency to speak of men (and people in general I would think) as superior or inferior.  Certainly certain of us are superior in certain respects from others, but I'm not inclined to follow The Sage of Baltimore in making such a classification.  More specifically, he also wrote something to the effect that the difference between a moral man and an honorable one is that the honorable man will regret a discreditable act even when it works and he is not caught.  This doesn't say much for the honor of the moral man, which I suppose was Mencken's point.

Mencken's honorable man possesses something akin to what I try to refer to as "honor" in this post.  It is an expectation one has of oneself, not of others.  That expectation is that I, or you, will act honorably at all costs.  In other words, that I, or you, will do certain things, and not do other things, regardless of the circumstances, not primarily because it is moral to do or not to do a certain thing, but primarily out of self-respect or self-regard.  Because we have honor or a sense of honor, we would lose respect for ourselves if we do something dishonorable or fail to do something honorable.  We would hold ourselves in contempt, regardless of whether others do so.

I feel some discomfort with this definition as it seems to resemble what some have purported to be saying when referring to someone as a "gentleman" (as opposed to a "bounder" I suppose, or a "cad").
And I'm afraid the knight of chivalry comes to mind as well, prating about his "sacred honor."  In addition, "honor" is often used in reference to the military, e.g. "Duty, Honor, Country."  Also, God help me, I can't help of thinking of the Star Trek character Worf (sp?) gravely saying of someone that "he has no honor."

Even so, "honor" as I speak of it here is adherence to a code of conduct for its own sake and for one's own sake.  Synonyms would be "integrity" and "dignity" and in the Roman sense gravitas.  Naturally, the code of conduct must be worthy of honor (here used as a verb), but curiously, it seems to me, we tend to admire those whose honor compels them to act or not act in a particular way even when the code they adhere to is unworthy.  We all know the phrase "honor among thieves."  What makes a thief honorable would be adherence to the thief's code, for its own sake and for his/her own sake.

Try to think of any prominent public figure who is a person of honor in that sense; who has honor or is honorable.  I know of nobody I would consider honorable, but know of many I think are without honor.  Of particular note are our politicians.  They're craven, venal, duplicitous, and seem to compete with each other in being dishonorable.  There is it seems no limit to what they are willing to do to retain their positions and better them if possible.  They're anything but honorable, and sometimes boast of being dishonorable.  Among them, dishonorable conduct appears to be admirable.

The absence of honor in our time may be attributable to lack of a moral code; lack of a real moral code one would have to say, as it's the case with our politicians, especially those of the right, that they persistently claim to be good Christians--a laughable conceit given their behavior.  Pharisees they may be, but nothing more.  Or it may be do to something more surprising, or at least I think so.

I think that as a rule, self-respect is not a concern among us, and especially for those of us that are public figures for one reason or another.  It isn't merely that we're indifferent to what others think of us, it's that we don't much care what we do except at a superficial level.  Expedience is what concerns us, and if what we do is expedient that is all that matters.  That what is expedient may be dishonorable is not an issue.

Like Werner von Braun in the Tom Lehrer song, our allegiance is ruled by expedience.  It makes our age a very petty, very sleazy time, very grubby time, remarkable in that sense but no other.  It's no surprise then that our leaders are variously petty, sleazy and grubby.

Happy Birthday, H.L. Mencken. Wish You Were Here.

 

Today H.L. Mencken would be 138 years old, if only he was still alive.  How I wish he was.

The Sage of Baltimore was not a religious man and did not believe in an afterlife.  If there is one, though, his rightful place in it would not be in heaven, of course, nor even in purgatory, but instead in the First Circle of Hell according to Dante along with other great pagans.   If it's possible to return from the afterlife and, if nothing else, haunt this sorry world, I think he would be with us now, if only to enjoy the increasingly perverse course of our Great Republic and congratulate himself for having anticipated so well the decadence of our democracy.

I think Mencken had his faults, and have described them previously in this blog.  But I know of nobody in the history of American journalism or opinion who wrote so well, and so savagely, of American politics and politicians, and American culture (I can almost hear him say "such as it is") with the exception of Gore Vidal.  I regret that he can't write of the current occupant of the White House and the rogue's gallery of our national leaders.  How well he would excoriate them, revile them!

We have people enough in journalism and elsewhere who do or would do the same, of course, but either the times or the people have changed.  Criticism as we now know it is crude and often vulgar, if omnipresent thanks to the Internet and social media.  Now people of all kinds, regardless of levels of intelligence, wit, literacy or sophistication, can express their opinions regarding current events and figures of significance and popularity, and do so with some relish.  Unfortunately, they for the most part are incapable of doing that well.  Just read what passes for commentary these days, or worse yet the comments readers can now make regarding the commentary.

And yet I think that those who are today professional commentators and pundits, who express their opinions weekly or daily on television, newspapers and journals are, in an odd way, actually more restrained than Mencken was in his heyday.  Read what Mencken wrote of such worthies as Woodrow Wilson and William Jennings Bryan, for example.  There's nothing like it being written now.

Perhaps "limited" is a better word than "restrained" though.  Limited, that is, in ability, knowledge and intelligence.  Someone with great powers of expression, like Mencken, can mock and revile far more effectively than someone who is merely consumed with hatred and self-righteousness as so many are today.  Today's political figures, and especially our current president, are barely capable of expressing themselves, verbally or in writing.  Against Mencken they would appear embarrassingly overmatched. 

And I think it would do our nation a great deal of good if they were overmatched, overtasked and overwhelmed by a great writer and critic.  They would be shown to be the mediocrities which, at best, they are, and the strikingly small and pitiable people they are and which, perhaps, we've become. 

If you can return, Mencken, please do.  And hurry.

The Phenomenon of Prohibition

 

I'm overwhelmed with wonder whenever I think of the Eighteenth Amendment to our Constitution, by which the production, sale and transportation of intoxicating liquors, and their importation to or exportation from our Great Republic and its territories, was made illegal.  Ratification of the amendment by the "several legislatures" of 36 states was achieved on January 16, 1919 and it became effective, by its terms, one year later.  I anxiously await the 100th anniversary of ratification, next year.

The wonder I experience is in part due to the fact that I find it difficult to believe any nation existing in the 20th century would adopt such a measure, and in part due to astonishment that the Temperance Movement and its allies managed to convince the legislature of 36 states of the Union that such a law should be imposed throughout the country.  It was a remarkable achievement.  It was also, and proved to be, a remarkably bad law.

The Internet gives us the opportunity to review the editorial cartoons and other illustrations supporting Prohibition.  One appears above.  I long to know how it was determined that alcohol causes "Atheists."  Others depict a mother holding a small child, a boy, and asks our help in her efforts to keep him pure; or an army of anthropomorphic beer barrels on the march, carrying standards on which are displayed slogans such as "We Make People Poor" and "We are Against Progress" and "We Cause Poverty and Crime."  Children are pictured, asking for votes against liquor "for our sake."  An American soldier asks if we will back him, or back booze.  Those, it seems, were the choices available.  Soldiers were apparently adverse to alcohol in those days.

In some sense these seem examples of propaganda in its infancy.  But we see the same themes employed by those eager to impose, or at least "sell", their political, social and cultural positions in this age, though the means by which they do so are more varied and sophisticated.

Someone told me recently that Prohibition was the child of the Progressive Movement in American politics.  I'm not so sure, myself.  It seems to have had its origin in the Temperance Movement and in certain Protestant churches and denominations of a puritanical and zealous bent.  I don't see that movement or these churches as "progressive." I think that persons like Carrie Nation and the Reverend Billy Sunday had no progressive bones in their alcohol-free bodies.

H.L. Mencken noted the religious origins of Prohibition, associating them with Puritanism,  and of course strongly opposed it.  The Sage of Baltimore is famous for defining (in the manner of Ambrose Bierce) Puritanism as "[t]he haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy."  I think there was something in the push for Prohibition that had its basis in the thought that alcohol was too much enjoyed, and that too much enjoyment is, inherently, a bad thing.

But whatever "ism" was behind Prohibition it shared with other "isms" the staunch belief of its followers that it is what was best for humanity in general and for those in the United States in particular.  It was thought that alcohol ruined lives and was the cause of poverty, crime and most of all sin.  So, it was thought entirely appropriate for it to be prohibited by law.

It's clear, I think, that Prohibition's advocates felt that the ill effects of alcohol were most prevalent in the working class and the underprivileged in general.  They were most inclined to drink it to excess, most inclined to commit crimes, abuse their families and to be irreligious--to be sinners.  It evidently didn't occur to Prohibition's proponents that there may be other reasons for poverty, crime and abuse, and that the consumption of alcohol itself may be their result rather than their cause.  It also seems to have been felt that immigrants brought to the United States a culture or cultures of drinking and so the drinking of alcohol had to be curtailed. 

Prohibition was, I think, a very Protestant phenomenon (imagine a largely Catholic country banning the production and sale of alcohol).  The goal sought by its advocates was, particularly when it came to the poor and working class, a citizenry that was sober, hardworking, church-going, amiable, humble, muted, content, passionless and not too inclined to think.

It failed miserably, of course, though it took thirteen years to repeal.  Thirteen years in which alcohol continued to be produced and sold, illegally, and consumed.  Prohibition is the great example of why it is foolish and dangerous to legislate morality.  We still want to do so, though.  Most of all we'd like to regulate thought.  Our Great Republic is full of those who, for moral and religious reasons, wish to prohibit others from doing things by law.

Mencken's Prescience

How the Sage of Baltimore would laugh; or is laughing if he found, to his surprise, that there is an afterlife.  I've criticized him in the past in this blog for his elitism.  His dark view of American democracy is a part of that elitism.  But who can doubt, now, that what he said would take place has indeed taken place?

But I don't write to bemoan the lurching, baffling and often deplorable presidency of the current dimwitted occupant of the White House who, if what is alleged be true, suffers from dementia as well as he does from ignorance and incoherence.  Well, not to any great extent, in any event.

What with Oprah expressing an interest in running for president, and other luminaries such as Kid Rock being spoken of as fit for elective office, I wonder if "the inner soul of the people" of our Glorious Republic is as fatuous as Mencken clearly thought it to be nearly a century ago.  Are we, the citizens of God's favorite country, intent on trusting the leadership of our nation to persons not necessarily morons by the usual definition, but clearly--to put it kindly--unready to accept such responsibility, merely because they appear before us on TV or some other medium and appeal to us in some way?

If so, we are the "downright morons" if not those we elect.  One would hope that the average citizen would as a matter of self-interest if nothing else be interested in seeing someone with some experience in government and knowledgeable of it be elected, but the most recent presidential election shows that isn't the case.

It may be that many of us have swallowed, hook, line and sinker that silliest of claims, that a business person would know what to do as a politician.  But what reason is there to believe this claim?  What we expect of government is not what we would expect from a for-profit business; we can't conceivably be considered shareholders in the government of the United States, and certainly not directors of it.  Besides, those like the current president have never even run a business that is accountable to shareholders, or for that matter to anyone else.  His business experience has been as master of a privately run business, subject to his every whim.  Thus, bankruptcy has been his recourse more than once when things go bad.

Is it possible that we've begun to confuse reality with reality shows, or more correctly with what we see and hear on TV, or movies, on what we download, on the video games we play?  Why not?  Aren't they becoming more and more a significant part of the world we experience?  Perhaps even the largest part; perhaps for some of us virtually (pun intended) the entire world we experience.

We are what we know and feel.  We know and feel more and more what is shown to us, what is provided to us by others.  Little or no effort on our part is required to know and feel what is fed to us.  There's no need to think anymore, not really.  The problems we encounter are manufactured, and the way to resolve them is more and more a matter of mere expression, played out before us by others who expound and emote as publicly as possible, whom we imitate.

Appearance is reality.  This has been a kind of foundation of marketing for many years now, and politics more than ever is marketing, and money.  But not only products are being sold, now.  Reality itself is what appears before us.  We live more and more in a fantasy world, but it's not our fantasy, which presumably would be pleasant for each of us.  Who do we want to see, hear?  Who do we want to be on TV, on our tablets and phones and laptops?  That's the world in which we live.

Mencken presumably didn't anticipate where our technology has taken us, but he was a journalist and a critic.  He knew people and politicians.  Even with the limited technology available in his time, he understood that thinking was in peril, and morons thrive on thoughtlessness.  Thoughtlessness will be an essential element of our future.

Ecclesiastes 1:9

Every now and then (in fact, more now than then) I think wistfully of what great journalists, essayists and satirists would write of our times. Specifically, I wonder what someone like Mencken, or Bierce or Juvenal would have to say, if only they were alive to bear witness to our folly. In that mood I revisit what I've read by them, and sometimes find what I haven't read before (to discover something I haven't read is particularly delightful).

I've been reading Mencken mostly. The Sage of Baltimore had an incisive mind, his writing is clear, erudite and witty, and he was more often right than wrong, though he had his prejudices and didn't hesitate to voice them. What struck me most as I read was that seemingly very little has changed since his death. Granted, he didn't die all that long ago, but it seems long ago and it seems we've come to think of most everything which happened more than a decade into the past as being ancient. Such are the expectations and inclinations of those of the age of Twitter.

The chapter (if I may call it such) of the Bible called "Ecclesiastes" makes several neat little observations about life which seem commonplace now, but perhaps were not so then. One might not think the members of a Bronze Age tribe would make them, but they were made nonetheless. Some have a Stoic tinge to them. What's referred to in the title to this post is the one which is paraphrased as "there is nothing new under the sun." Let's give the ancient author his due and quote him here: "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun." (King James' version).


This saying came to mind while I was reading an article Mencken wrote in 1924 regarding immigration. The government was taking steps to stem the tide of immigrants from southern and eastern Europe, then. That's more or less where my ancestors come from, as I'm largely of Italian and Polish descent My ancestors would not have been affected by the law, as they were in the first wave of immigration from those parts, so to speak; the late 19th century. That assumes the law wouldn't have retroactive application, of course, but I think that would be pushing anti-immigration sentiment too hard; making it too obviously contrary to the Constitution.

I think the rhetoric used to justify such a law at that time would have been similar to the rhetoric we hear now about Mexican immigrants. Mencken in his article doesn't dwell on the Italians, especially southern Italians and Sicilians, being undesirable in the many ways they were thought to be undesirable in 1924. Instead, the article sets forth an argument that if the immigration of such people is prohibited, then the Americans Mencken called "Anglo-Saxon" would be forced to do the manual or factory labor being done by the immigrants. This made no sense to Mencken, because the lower kind of Anglo-Saxon not only wanted to avoid such work, but were no longer capable of doing such work well or diligently. The higher kind of Anglo-Saxon, of course, would not even consider doing such work in any situation, according to Mencken. Mencken, as a devotee of Nietzsche, was inclined to speak of higher and lower kinds of people.

The claim that immigrants are needed to do the work we don't want to do, but which nevertheless should be done, is an argument we hear today as well. So it isn't new, and nor is the claim that immigrants from particular areas or nations are undesirable, which is to say unlike Americans who are descendants of northern Europe or England. It is only new to the extent it addresses new people.

Though we're often called a nation of immigrants, America has always been unkind to immigrants. Irish, Chinese, Italian throughout the 19th and even into the 20th century; now Mexican and Muslim. The Irish, Chinese and Italian have been accepted for the most part; perhaps more properly assimilated. The prejudice against them reduced over time. Perhaps that will happen as well with the newly undesirable, and they will have their turn at objecting to immigrants in the future. It seems to be the American way.

It's claimed by some that restricting the immigration of Muslims is a special case, as it impacts our national and personal security. The same was also said of others, though. Italians promoted crime and even organized it. Eastern Europeans were communists. Italians could be anarchists as well, of course, like Sacco and Vanzetti.

Mencken wrote, wisely I think, that people don't really want liberty. Instead, what they want is security. What was truly said is that which shall be truly said, to paraphrase Ecclesiastes. We seem most willing to sacrifice our liberty--and those of others, of course--in the hope that sacrifice will provide us with security. Immigrants like many other things make us feel insecure.

Mencken thought democracy to be a destructive form of government given his contempt for the masses who through it would run the show, and remarked that its result in America would be that someday the common people would achieve their dream of electing a complete moron to the presidency. It may be that dream has come true at last, and that it has come in part due to our desire for security.

I suspect Mencken and other great cynics and critics of the past would therefore be inclined to write much like they did in the past if they lived now. There seems indeed to be nothing new under the sun at least as far as human conduct and misconduct is concerned, and so those who comment on human conduct are fated to make comments already made. But they would make them in with much more skill and wit than can be found these days, as skill and wit in communication are actively discouraged, the act of communicating instantly being of greatest importance in these unhappy times when talk is quick and cheap.

America Does the Limbo: How Low Can We Go?

My father, an intuitively perceptive man now dead over four years, would remark now and then upon the adage that in mass marketing of all kinds success was achieved by appealing to the "lowest common denominator."  In other words, success was obtained by appealing to the least discriminating audience or target group.  Especially now but it would seem throughout the history of popular and semi-popular government, politics has been little more than marketing.

H.L. Mencken, the great Sage of Baltimore, wrote that:

"When a candidate for public office faces the voters he does not face men of sense; he faces a mob of men whose chief distinguishing mark is the fact that they are quite incapable of weighing ideas, or even of comprehending any save the most elemental — men whose whole thinking is done in terms of emotion, and whose dominant emotion is dread of what they cannot understand. So confronted, the candidate must either bark with the pack or be lost... All the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre — the man who can most adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum. The Presidency tends, year by year, to go to such men. As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron. "

Mencken had his faults; he was an unabashed elitist.  But it would seem to me that this is prescience.  Prescience, that is, regarding what has become the tendency of voters in our democracy, such as it is.

I don't think, though, that democracy is itself inherently defective or that Mencken even thought it to be such.  What Mencken objected to about democracy, or more properly democratic forms of government (our nation isn't a democracy, strictly speaking) was the place of people in it.  He loathed most people, and was contemptuous of the intelligence of the mass of people.  Consequently, he loathed government by the people or any government which is dependent in any significant sense on the whims of the people.
 

The problem with people he refers to specifically in what's quoted above is that their thinking "is done in terms of emotion" and their "dominant emotion is dread of what they cannot understand."  This seems to be true, and seems to become increasingly true here in our Glorious Republic.

 We "dread" when we greatly fear something we anticipate will happen.  The relationship between fear and hate is well known; we hate what we fear.  And fear, as Ambrose Bierce noted, is an idiot.  In this recent, seemingly endless, presidential campaign and election, fear, hate and idiocy have been much on display, and have been exploited.  As Mencken noted, it's probable that the successful candidate will be the one that is most devious and mediocre.  That would seem to be the case in this case.

I can't find it in me to mourn the fact the losing candidate lost; I simply wish she had lost to someone else.  She has never struck me as an admirable person, and was, to put it mildly, uninspiring, just as she has always been.  The editorial cartoonist Pat Oliphant, whose work I greatly miss, used to draw her as a cat sitting on pillow or with a princess crown on her head, the image of entitlement and smugness.  I think that portraying her as a cat was unjust--to cats.  However, I've never hated her with the fanaticism some have and still do.

Her secretive and suspicious nature and self-righteousness made her so unappealing that I doubt she would be successful in most circumstances; she was overwhelmed in the last election, and was nearly pushed aside within her party in this one.  But I didn't think that even she could lose to this particular opponent.

I venture to say that no reasonable person can maintain her successful opponent is qualified for the presidency, having never served in public office of any kind, elected or appointed, or the military.  Nor do I think it can be said it's been established he has any unusual ability in business.  He pretends to expertise in a variety of areas, but it seems his claims must be taken on faith, as they have been unsupported.

More disturbing than his lack of qualifications, his ignorance, his boorishness, however, is his courting of support through exciting and exploiting the "worse angels of our nature" so to speak.  Parallels have been drawn with both Hitler and Mussolini, and those comparisons aren't altogether absurd.

More disturbing than that, though, is the fact that so many were sold on his message.  One can understand frustration with the system, the establishment and the feeling that it must change (though how it could be changed wasn't addressed).  The specter of a global society, government, economy, is I think not one to be frightened of much.  The desire to retain sovereignty is understandable, but as far as I'm aware that isn't in any serious danger, except perhaps in the minds of those who live in fear of the Illuminati, or the Council on Foreign Relations, or some other focus of our many conspiracy theorists.

The message was more (and less) than this, unfortunately.  It included contentions that America is imperiled by those who are believed to not be Americans or to be un-American, and they include Jews, Muslims, Hispanics (mostly Mexicans), immigrants, Gays, and virtually anyone who is not white and Christian and straight and was born either in the United States or Europe.  The message also was that something must be done to protect America from those folk, and this would make America great again.

What many of us succumbed to, therefore, was an appeal to emotions of the worse kind, primarily hatred and fear.  So we were exactly what Mencken said we would be, which I think isn't what we could and should be, if only we would think.  But thought wasn't sought and so wasn't given, either.  We bought the claims made, pure and simple.  We wanted to believe that our problems were caused not by ourselves, but by others.
 

We sink low and it's reasonable under the circumstances to ask how low we can go.

Regarding Al Capp

I'm not sure what brings him to my mind, but here he is wandering about it, that most perplexing cartoonist, Al Capp.  Liberal in the 1950s, conservative in the 1960s and 1970s, unbearably smug and insulting at times as when visiting John Lennon and Yoko Ono during their much touted time in bed (not Lennon's finest moment, true); creator of the comic strip Li'l Abner, and very much a public figure of his times.  There must have been something about those days which prompted intellectuals of sorts to appear on various TV shows, and something about such as Johnny Carson (and before him Jack Parr) and Dick Cavett which prompted them to seek them out as guests.  That doesn't seem the case any more.  Perhaps there are no public figures who purport to be intellectuals anymore, or nobody to patronize them, no audience for them.

I suspect he's been brought forth by my memory as a kind of tonic in response to these remarkable times here in our Great Republic, and the sense of foreboding I feel, given the likelihood that its President will soon be one of two people for whom I have no respect or liking.  Also the sense of chagrin at what seems to be a potentially catastrophic failure of our political system, already necessarily corrupt due in part to the ruling of those who are supposed to be among the greatest jurists of our land.

 I' ve often wished Mencken or Bierce were alive to comment on this dark age.  I'd settle for someone like William F. Buckley, Jr., or his old friend, Gore Vidal; Walter Lippmann would provide solace as well.  Christopher Hitchens would have gone into a frenzy.  When it comes to editorial cartoons, I wish Pat Oliphant was still working.

Those old enough will remember that, depending on his mood, Capp could be quite the satirist; and, somewhat remarkably for a cartoonist, he could even be rather subtle in his satire.  I cherish the memory of the Schmoos and the Kigmies.  I even think fondly of Fearless Fosdick, now and then.  Sadie Hawkins Day, Dogpatch and the Yokums are part of Americana.   But Capp was by most accounts a very disagreeable, angry and vituperative man, with several unfortunate characteristics, such as propositioning uninterested women.  Like too many artists and intellectuals, his ability doesn't entirely surmount his personal flaws and this leads me, at least, to doubt his worthiness.

Still, he and others like Walt Kelly, creator of Pogo, were more adroit satirists than cartoonists of our time because they were more subtle in their political and social satire.  There's no question that cartoonists now lampoon political and cultural figures, but they do so in a more obvious manner.  Those figures appear in cartoon strips and do and say what one expects them to given the opinions of the artist.  This is sometimes funny, sometimes too blatant to be very amusing.  Now, Capp and Kelly would do much the same thing now and then.  I remember a character in Pogo clearly based on Spiro Agnew, and Capp wasn't above putting such as Ted Kennedy in his strips as characters under other names.  The case of Joan Baez appearing as Joanie Phoanie is notorious, and resulted in litigation.

But given his angry and seemingly malicious character, I have to wonder whether he would if he lived now merely contribute to the choleric nature of our politics, which I think contributes to the current chaos.  I wouldn't necessarily object to the mocking of either of what are being called the "presumptive nominees" of their parties, provided it's done well.  But I imagine him as being not content with satire, and inclined not merely to draw but to rant and not just in his cartoons.  At every opportunity.  He likely would, in other words, do little more than add to the thoughtless noise.  And we have more than enough of that now.

Mencken the Prophet? Democracy and the Moron

Hearken to the words of H.L. Mencken, the great Sage of Baltimore:

“As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”

I suppose some would say that day has already come and gone.  I'm uncertain about that, but if it has not one can make a good case that it will, soon enough. 

Mencken had little or no faith in democracy, as may be expected from a lover of Nietzsche.  Democracy was for Mencken what Christianity was for Frantic Freddie, I believe; that is to say, an institution the purpose of which is to impede and restrict as far as possible the "superior man."  Mencken's regard for the preening Nietzsche, that relentless purveyor of exclamations, pronouncements and rhetorical questions, was his great fault in my opinion.  But in a way his elitism was understandable then and still is now. 

Ultimately, in politics and other things, we get what we deserve if not what we want.  So if elect a moron we will most certainly deserve him.  Are we destined to elect one?  Was Mencken right about democracy?

The question whether democracy is a desirable form of government has been asked for quite some time.  Democracy was of course rejected by Plato.  He preferred that we be led on a grim, dreary death-march to perfection, unfettered by art and amusement, grouped in closely regulated ranks separated one from the other though we would be able to advance if we show promise in our steps, perhaps even attaining, eventually, the ranks of the Guardians marching before us.

An enlightened despotism has been the dream of many intellectuals, and was even for a time at least favored by such a friend to liberty as J.S. Mill.  As I recall, he thought that this happy dictatorship would represent a stage in our development.  Our ignorance and brutish character would be limited while molded by a despot or despotism of an elite until that glorious day when we would be able to think for ourselves.  Then, I think, we might be able to vote, even, though certain votes would count for more than others.

There have been relatively few democratic nations over time; perhaps there have been none, really, since the days of the Greek city-states.  Even God's favorite country, the United States, is not a democracy, nor was it intended to be one.  It is a republic.  The Founders didn't want a true democracy, fearing the tyranny of the majority, fearing more the mob, the common folk.  They would have been horrified by universal suffrage. 

So, Mencken wasn't right, strictly speaking, to think of this nation as a democracy.  The shrewd lawyers and merchants, and rich farmers, who created this nation were careful in their efforts to make certain that there would be no democracy so long as the Constitution and institutions they created persevere.  The fabled checks and balances we learned of in school (or learned of once, in any case) are there not only to limit the powers of any one branch of our government, but also to prevent majority rule.

Thus we may take heart from the fact that the moron we may be fated to elect as president won't be entirely a moron unleashed.  We may want the moron to have the power to ignore Congress and the courts and, perhaps more importantly, the special interest groups who carry politicians around in their pockets like Don Corleone, but much as we would like this to happen  (or think we do), it will not.  The moron may think it will happen, being a moron, but that won't make it so.

Someone like Mencken may say that republic or not, we elect morons at all levels.  Our representatives are morons as well as our President, or will be.  And so our judges will be morons.   The ascendancy of morons is inevitable, eventually, whenever election outcomes are based on majority vote.

Well, that may be.  But in that case we'll tire of the morons, and start all over again, running through the various forms of government.  Perhaps democracy is a kind of end of government.  It may lead to chaos, which will lead us to impose an autocracy, thence to an oligarchy, and etc.  We will be a phoenix rising from the ashes, then burning, then rising again.

Fear is an Idiot

Fear is much on my mind these days, or I should say the prevalence of fear.  More specifically, the prevalence of fear here, in God's favorite country.

I suppose this is to be expected now, as we are in the midst of a seemingly endless political campaign for the presidency.  The great Sage of Baltimore, H.L. Mencken, noted that it is the goal of practical politics to keep the people alarmed, and our politicians, practical or not, are busy doing so, none so diligently than Mr. Trump.  Mencken also knew (and said) that people value security more than liberty.  Napoleon commented that the two levers which move mankind are fear and self interest.

One can of course find other quotes about fear with considerable celerity, thanks to the Internet.  But one which seems particularly appropriate at this time is the statement by Ambrose Bierce to the effect that fear has no brain, and is an idiot.

Bierce was no stranger to fear, having fought in several battles of the Civil War, including the battle of "Bloody Shiloh."  He seems to have been reasonably successful in keeping his wits about him during combat, but there's every reason to believe he was correct in concluding, as I think he did, that those overwhelmed by fear are thereby overwhelmed by stupidity as well.

These are fearful times; quite literally fear-full.  The fear seems to arise more and more from the random violence which results from, or is inspired by, terrorism.  If the fear is also caused by random violence otherwise inspired, though, it seems that fear is given less attention, particularly if that fear relates to the use of firearms by those who are not terrorists.

The surplus of fear  may be due to the fact that in the politics of the moment, simple answers are sought, but not sought as much as simple characterization of problems.  Good and bad, black and white, Muslim and Christian, Americans and immigrants.  It's desirable to characterize these problems in a simple manner as by doing so our politicians--and media--may better maintain that they may be answered simply as well, and whine when they aren't answered quickly.  Simple answers to complex problems are stupid answers, but stupid answers appeal to the fearful, fear being, as Bierce noted, an idiot.

Sadly, among the Republicans, many seem enamored of a man whose political ability and acumen (for all I know he is a very able businessman) seem to me equivalent to that of the know-it-all one may always find at the local bar, and who is likely to respond much as that know-it-all would to questions after perhaps three drinks.  That is to say, loudly and without thought.  His popularity may be attributable to the fact fear has no brain. It's to be hoped that such an individual won't become president, but fear being an idiot anything is possible.  It's disturbing that it seems many understand him to be dangerous, but it doesn't seem to matter.  It must be wondered whether Mencken was correct about democracy and that we will, inevitably, eventually elect a moron to the presidency. 

That fear is an idiot may work to the advantage of our politicians, but provides us with little hope of resolving the problems we face.  It may instead lead to more problems, or rather an increase of problems of the kind we experience.  Events such as that which took place in San Bernadino seem to have at least one predictable result; the increase in the sale of firearms.

The possession of firearms isn't, to me, objectionable in itself.  But I think when fearful people have firearms, it's likely they will use them and use them ineptly, accepting as I do Bierce's description of fear.  I question whether those who buy firearms out of fear will go to the trouble of learning how to use them well and safely. I also think it likely that angry people will use them if and when they can, if they're very angry.  Anger may be an idiot as well.

FDR famously noted in those bleak times that we had nothing to fear but fear itself.  Sadly, fear itself gives us good cause to fear in these all too interesting times.

Regarding "Obamaphobia"

Grandpa Munster look-alike Ted Cruz has been accused of "Obamaphobia" and we see this condition mentioned elsewhere as well.  I don't know whether this word is relatively new or whether it has been around for some time, but it seems apt in describing reactions to the president, given the definition of "phobia" as being an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something.

I don't find it easy to take Mr. Cruz, or any other candidate for the presidency of our Great Republic, very seriously.  This may change as this election slouches towards its rude end, but if it does I suspect that I will take them seriously only as threats, more or less significant as the case may be, to our nation.  That said, however, I doubt that even the horrifying prospect of one of them being president will cause me to declaim against them in the hysterical, even demented, manner in which our current president is being castigated and has been castigated by Republicans.

The sickening histrionics of the Republicans in this regard invokes a kind of contempt of them on my part, leading me to sympathize with H.L. Mencken, who wrote: "In this world of sin and sorrow, there is always something to be thankful for; as for me, I rejoice that I am not a Republican."

Naturally, the claim of Obamaphobia is not merely denied, but decried by those accused of it and their defenders, sometimes as being a different way of condemning them for racism.  One wonders, sometimes, at the defensiveness of this response.

I think it is futile to deny that criticism of this president has been extraordinary, not necessarily in its quantity but in its quality.  Even normally sensible people I know become frenzied at his mention.  I can't remember how many times I've heard or read the word "tyranny" used in reference to him--by people who have never experienced tyranny of the kind one finds in history and in other nations.  He's routinely criticized as being godless, or at least described as not-a-Christian (which may amount to the same thing for some).  He is of course called a socialist; this is a milder criticism, however, than others.  Those like Giuliani claim he doesn't "love America."  His efforts to provide a "universal" health care system are considered positively demonic by his opponents. 

How explain such conduct?  It's true that our nation's political history is full of examples of lurid accusations against politicians involving their character (especially by proponents and opponents of our earliest politicians; our Founding Fathers were routinely accused of crimes and moral lapses).  But I can't recall this kind of vituperation directed at recent presidents; not even the much reviled Nixon.

It may be that we simply hear and read more in the way of denunciations because technology now allows everyone to express outrage and to be heard and read, more than ever has been the case.  Anyone can, and will, let all the rest of us know what they think, unsolicited.  It doesn't matter what their qualifications, knowledge or intelligence may be, in general or in particular.  Tell us they will, and the tendency is to tell us in as excited a manner as possible.

It may be that our politics is becoming increasingly contentious.  Some of us may feel that our world is changing, and for the worse, and are rendered furious by the fact that it is doing so.  Obama would be considered a symbol of that change.  That change would seem to be that people who do not conform to what some of us feel is normal and appropriate are obtaining power and becoming prominent in America.  I think this is the case, and is at least in part a cause of Obamaphobia.  He is associated with forces that are anti-Church, anti-traditional America and, I think it must be said, non-white if not anti-white--"white" society and culture being the traditional American society and culture.

Historically, white Protestants have dominated in America.  That began to change as early as the first half of the 19th century when the Irish began arriving.  In the second half of the 19th century and the early 20th century people even "stranger" began to arrive, from southern and eastern Europe.

Gradually, these immigrants began to be tolerated and even took positions of power in America.  The change was in some respects grudging.  But there are places where even they are relatively few, in the South and the West, and it is in those places where it seems most Obamaphobes reside.

President Obama is a strange president, to many.  He doesn't act and doesn't speak as presidents have in living memory.  I personally feel that he has in many ways been ineffective, but his "strangeness" has for me no discernible influence or impact.  I think it has effected others, though, to a very significant extent.

I think we see here and in other things a profound change in what many are used to, and that this change is greatly resented.  Especially when we are relatively comfortable and not distracted by the need to see to our immediate survival, our greatest concern is that there be no change.  The old metal band The Dead Kennedys made an album called Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death.  It mocked us for our love of comfort.  Many of us are being inconvencied by the "new America" and find this intolerable.

Paging Philo Vance

This will be another rather fluffy post to relieve the dreariness of these times, or at least the dreariness of my mind.

As some few of us may recall, Philo Vance was a fictional detective, of a sort, created by Willard Huntington Wright and featured in a series of quite popular books by that author under the pen name S.S. Van Dine.  They were popular in the 1920s and 1930s, though, and so may be forgotten now by most.  They were the subject, at least nominally, of popular films and a radio series.  I've listened to some of the radio broadcasts, and would think that Vance as portrayed in them would be hardly recognizable to readers of the books.

Vance was an odd sort of detective.  He wore a monocle (some stills of the movies show him with a monocle, so perhaps the films are more accurate).  Independently wealthy, educated in Europe, possessing an Oxford accent (he even uses "old boy"), knowledgeable about most everything, expert in most everything, an artiste, a gourmet, a dog show enthusiast; effete, cynical, pretentious, a fop, dandy and a dilettante according to critics.  Ogden Nash was moved to say that Vance needed a kick in the pants.  Writers of the hard-boiled detective fiction who succeeded him, like Raymond Chandler, thought him a contemptible character.  But even so, he displayed on a few occasions a knowledge of martial arts, something which would have been rare at the time, which allowed him to subdue those who underestimated his physical prowess.

The Vance of the radio broadcasts has none of the foregoing characteristics, and in the last episode I heard was beating a suspected killer to make him talk. 

His creator was an unusual fellow himself.  He was an art critic and friend, perhaps even a protégé, of H.L. Mencken, author of books on Nietzsche and art, a proponent of unusual, "modern" writers of the time and of fiction then considered sexually explicit (which got him fired from the magazine The Smart Set).  He also wrote a very odd book I'm currently reading in which he rants against the Encyclopedia Britannica, entitled Misinforming a Nation.  He was infuriated by the editors and writers involved in that encyclopedia, and what he considered to be their irrational and unfair prejudice in favor of English authors and artists they considered representative of the morals of the English middle class.

He was also incensed by the fact the encyclopedia sold so well in the United States although to him it denigrated American and neglected American writers and artists.  It's an interesting if sometimes peculiar read, full of references to authors I've never heard of in addition to those I have read, and if the descriptions of entries in the encyclopedia are accurate it was indeed prejudiced, but I find it odd that someone published a book saying so.

I read these books while a teenager, and was impressed by them.  Now, I'm not so much impressed as amused, entertained.  While in some respects the continuing characters are stock, and duly stupid in the manner Watson is to highlight the cleverness of Sherlock Holmes, Vance and some of the villains are interesting in a weird way, and some of the plots, though contrived, are interesting, and involve such things as classical music and one in particular somehow combines chess, nursery rhymes and the higher mathematics and theoretical physics into motives for murders.

A perpetually perplexed District Attorney who has long been a friend of Vance comes to him with murders and they are presently solved by Vance, who determines the killer primarily by consideration of psychological factors.  Investigations are interrupted by afternoon teas, attendance at concerts, perusal of displays of art, and lunches, dinners and sometimes even breakfasts made up of delectables lovingly described.

It seems to me that some clever person should resurrect Vance as a detective for the times.  Surely we're all weary unto death of the various Law & Order and NCIS spin offs and their copy cats.  The British "mystery" series which we see now and then on PBS are interesting, but we see them only when the local PBS channel is not otherwise involved in soliciting money or broadcasting episodes of such as This Old House.  There are also the Sherlock Holmes derivatives, one of which features Holmes as a smirking know-it-all accompanied by a female Watson, the other of which is much better but still involves the fantasy of Holmes living and investigating in our time, and so necessarily anachronistic.

The TV or movie Vance of today should, I think, remain in his own time.  His rather androgynous character and ambiguous sexuality would have broad appeal in a time where sexuality is of such importance; one can think of him as most anything one cares to, in that respect.  Psychology being something we've all been taught to "practice" in one way or another, his criminal theories would be entertaining.  His erudition would be enlightening, and his stories a welcome relief from the bang-bang, kiss-kiss that characterizes so much of our visual media.  It's true that all the characters in the Vance stories are white, though there are a few Chinese now and then in one or two books, and I suppose that would create some problems, but it would, after all, be a period piece.

If some clever media type really does take this idea and run with it, though, I would hope that at the least some credit for the idea be given to me, Ciceronianus the lawyer and sometimes whimsical blogger.

Love of Country; Love of Self

Rudy Giuliani was once the Mayor of New York.  Since then, as far as I am aware, he has done nothing but pontificate when called upon to do so or when he is so inclined.  Lately,  he berates our perpetually berated President for not loving America.

This is to say, at the least, that the President does not love our country as much as Mr. Giuliani does, or not enough to satisfy Giuliani.  I'm afraid that when one makes unsolicited comments of this kind one is doing little more than positively calling attention to oneself under the pretense of commenting negatively on another.  This curious bit of "holier than thou" posturing may serve a legitimate purpose, however, if it provides us with an opportunity to wonder just what it means to love one's country, and what one does by loudly proclaiming that one loves one's country.

The great Sage of Baltimore, H.L Mencken, noted:  "Whenever you hear a man speak of his love for his country, it is a sign he expects to be paid for it."  The Sage was a cynical man, you might say.  But consider--when have you heard anyone proclaim that he/she loves his/her country?  In my experience, the person making such a claim does so while on camera and/or while speaking to an audience; at the least, while speaking to a group of people, perhaps while at some celebration or some solemn occasion where war dead are honored. 

It is thus a very public statement or declaration.  It is done for the benefit of others, to impress them in some manner.  One doesn't claim love for one's country as one normally would for one's spouse or child (one would be expected to do so at a wedding or similar ceremony, of course, but these are relatively rare).  Movie characters have been known to announce their love for their wives in the midst of some scene or other, generally in musicals.  But such love is usually declared privately.  It is an intimate statement or declaration.

How do we love our country?  I don't think one would love one's country as one would a person.  So, Mr. Giuliani's even more curious complaint that the President doesn't love him, or "us" either doesn't necessarily follow from the fact the President (according to Giuliani) doesn't love America.  The President of the United State should not be subject to criticism because he does not, like Jesus, love us all; that we are not all precious in his sight, black and yellow, red and white.

One rather love ones country for its beauty, its benefits, as one's home--as a place.

Assuming as I think we must, or at least as we should hope, that "love" is not used by Mr. Giuliani in this case as expressing romantic or sexual desire for America (or for Mr. Giuliani and the rest of us), its use as a verb would presumably be to express his opinion that the President does not cherish America; does not hold it dear, does not have great affection for it.  But if that's the case, his opinion is evidently based on the fact that the President has disturbed him by seeming at times to criticize America and to even have apologized for its conduct in some cases (the latter, apparently, is particularly intolerable to some).

But it should be obvious it's quite possible to be critical of someone or something you nonetheless cherish.  So it would seem the criticism is in essence that the President does not unconditionally love America, or that he does not appear to unconditionally love America--that he does not say he unconditionally love America or does not act like he unconditionally loves it, regardless of his feelings.

It's true that our politicians have typically been effusive in their praise for these United States, and have been careful not to seem otherwise.  Some are even maudlin in their praise.  We expect this from them, but we also expect them to be hypocrites and liars.  I doubt that any of us take their protestations of love for America very seriously.  They are transparently on the make.  Nobody votes for a politician because they sincerely believe he or she really loves America.  We assume, rightly I'm sure, that they don't hate America, that they like America, that they would preserve, protect and defend it and its Constitution.  And there is no reason we should not believe the same of the President.  But love?  They can't reasonably as politicians be expected to love anyone or anything but themselves and perhaps those who bankroll them.

I suspect this is what Mencken meant.  I also suspect Mr. Giuliani is well aware of this, and is simply making political points and calling attention to himself, by trumpeting that the President does not love America and Giuliani does as do all other right thinking Americans.

It's possible to think that a President who does not constantly praise America somehow weakens it in the eyes of the world, but it would not be intelligent to do so.  Why would anyone among our friends, allies or enemies be impressed by this adulation?  It's also possible to believe that it is part of the position of President to be unqualifiedly in support of the United States.  This makes a kind of sense, but such unqualified support need not be stupid.

But the fact is we do make mistakes and it would be absurd to pretend we don't; it would be impossible to respect a President or anyone else who believes the United States has never done and never will do wrong.  The fact is the United States is exceptional, even remarkable, and those we call the Founders created in the Constitution a thing of beauty.  Unfortunately, those who succeeded them have not shared their genius or have done so only sporadically. 

There really is no need to constantly tell ourselves or others that this is the case, however.  When we do so or revile others for not doing so, we seek to benefit ourselves; to get paid in some fashion.  Mencken was right.

Mencken on the Law, and Lawyers

I've written now and then regarding the great H.L. Mencken and his work, generally with admiration.  Now and then I'm disappointed with him, though; particularly by his elitism.  There seems little question that he despised democracy, and I'm rather fond of it, for all its faults.  He's certainly not the first intelligent person to loathe that form of government.  To his credit, it seems he was not so naive as to think that other forms were necessarily better than democracy, as were certain others commencing with Plato, the first systematic totalitarian thinker in our history.  But his unabashed contempt for the common herd can be disturbing.

I also found disturbing a little piece he wrote on war, in which he claimed that it was not as bad as some thought as most were not killed and those wounded generally were not wounded seriously enough to cause concern.  To my knowledge he never experienced war, even as a journalist, and by rights should have said nothing regarding what was encountered by those who did.

He wrote about the law and lawyers, as well, and I think his comments about my fellows and my profession are fair enough for the most part.  Indeed, he affected to admire the intelligence and intellectual prowess of lawyers a great deal.  He sat through many trials, and was impressed by the lawyers' ability to learn a great deal about a subject in a very short time, to think quickly, argue persuasively, on various topics.  But he thought that all this talent and ability was necessarily devoted to matters which are, for the most part, trivial.  That is to say that the subject matter of the law is generally insignificant.

I would say that the word "mundane" is a more appropriate word.  There's no question that in most cases the law and lawyers deal with problems that arise due to the interaction of people in the course of ordinary life.  Momentous issues regarding liberty, religion, free speech are addressed as well of course, but this is rare.  Mencken notes that as a result most lawyers are not remembered by history, with some exceptions, and I think this is true.

Perhaps he would have acknowledged that in at least one instance in his lifetime he witnessed the legal system addressing a matter of some significance, in the case of the Scopes trial.  I think he would say that at least one lawyer came out of that looking well, Clarence Darrow, but that others did not.  All of the others.  Perhaps he even felt that Darrow would be remembered.  He is, but it's hard to say for how long he will be, or what Mencken would have thought would be an appropriate period.  I'm certain, however, that he'd be horrified to learn that even today some insist that religion be taught in school in our Great Republic, or "creationism" at least.  No doubt he'd consider this to be verification of his opinion that "[d]emocracy is a pathetic belief in the collective wisdom of individual ignorance."

Intellectuals seem always to be contemptuous of, or at best indifferent to, the mundane.  Perhaps this is why they so often fail to understand or hold the interest of most people.  They underestimate, should they even consider, the role the mundane inevitably plays in shaping our desires and concerns and in establishing what is important to most of us.  This renders them significant and persuasive only to a few, a relatively small group of individuals much like themselves.  Especially in democracies, therefore, they have little influence outside of academia, and are even looked upon as foolish.  Even in their thought they seem to discount ordinary life and so construct theories disconnected from it--castles in the air.

We lawyers do indeed deal in the mundane, as that is what the law concerns.  It relates exclusively to how we live our lives and how others do.  But it seems to me that this doesn't render it uninteresting or insignificant.  For good or ill, it's probably the most significant institution or system devised by humans.  It's all-important, and increasingly regulates our conduct if not our thoughts. 

It's like that most annoying "external world" some philosophers claim we cannot know.  We had better take it into account nonetheless, and pay it careful attention.  We ignore it at our peril.

Homage to Ambrose Bierce

I'm reading Ambrose Bierce's recollections of the Civil War, and am impressed once again by him as a man and as a writer.  I find his descriptions of the battles of Shiloh and Chickamauga particularly striking, for reasons unclear to me.  They are direct, cool reportage of mass slaughter by a participant in the chaos, and the prose is significantly different from that he would employ in his fiction, where he could sometimes be baroque, and his highly acerbic critiques and essays regarding various topics.   He does criticize some of the generals, true, but his criticism is unusually mild.  And he writes very little of himself and his deeds; when he does so, he shows no self-regard.

"Bitter" Bierce he was sometimes called, as was noted by Mencken in a piece he wrote about his encounter with Bierce at a funeral of a fellow-critic, and it seems Bierce did not disappoint on that occasion.  Mencken writes that he described in considerable detail and with amusement unfortunate cremations he had witnessed and their consequences.  Bierce and Mencken had later encounters as well, and would correspond in a friendly way, but Bierce was much older than Mencken, and despite their common contrariness and iconoclasm it seems that Mencken's view of the older man was ultimately somewhat uncharitable.

For my part, much as I admire the Sage of Baltimore, I think Bierce the more rounded and sophisticated man and writer.  Mencken had no experience of war, and like many who have not been soldiers could be somewhat cavalier about it.  Mencken was not a traveler, and Bierce seldom stopped wandering.  Finally and at a fairly mature age he ventured into Mexico during the days of Pancho Villa, and may have departed this life as he "predicted" in a letter--stood up against a wall and shot.  It's not known how he died or where he was buried, if indeed he was buried.

Bierce wrote fiction which was at times almost fascinating, similar to that of Poe as in the case of Occurrence at Owl Creek.  The war story he wrote in which a child encounters a group of wounded soldiers slowly crawling in an effort to reach water is chilling.  Bierce was a poet, an epigrammatist, as well as a journalist and critic.  Mencken, wisely I think, didn't venture into those areas.  Mencken was a critic, always.  He was a good one I believe, but his position as an amused, educated, intelligent observer became at times too elevated.  He had elitist tendencies, and was too quick to condemn people based on such characteristics as race and culture; thus his fondness for Nietzsche and his uncomfortably kind review of Mein Kampf.

Bierce was an honest and fierce man who was able to use words well and so was able to communicate peculiarly American experiences in a manner which was direct but also could be ornate, in a classic style.  I doubt he shared with Mencken, Hemingway and others the belief that Huckleberry Finn was the great American novel.  Perhaps in expressing that doubt I'm expressing my own feelings for that work of Twain; it's not a book a favor.  Bierce like Poe and Stephen Crane doesn't have the reputation other American authors have, but I think him far more interesting than most of our writers.

It's unfortunate such people are not given the same regard as the more popular artists we tend to laud excessively, for various reasons.  They are more attractive politically, more easily taught (always important in our Great Republic, where most of us are only taught art), more romantic, more erotic, more normal.  They are not interesting, however.

The soldier-adventurer-author is an attractive figure (and was to such as Hemingway, who longed to be one), and can be a Romantic figure as well.  Bierce was all that but it isn't possible for me to think of him as a Romantic.  The Civil War was in no sense a Romantic war, and Bierce wasn't inclined to rhapsodize about anything.   He was too much of a cynic, in the modern sense at least.  What a life he lead!  One must admire a man who lived as he did.

Mencken and Nietzsche

Those who have done me the honor of reading this blog will know that I hold in high regard the Sage of Baltimore, the great journalist H.L. Mencken, and that I deplore the fact we have not seen his like since he departed this life.  Now we have pundits aplenty, but none with his wit and learning, certainly none with his gift for words.  The late Christopher Hitchens was a worthy successor, but not a newspaperman, really, in the sense Mencken was; but then there may be no such thing as a newspaperman now.

But for all the admiration I have for him, I have trouble understanding his admiration for Nietzsche.  How could Mencken, so accomplished at deflating the egos of the pompous, so sardonic, so disdainful of boosterism in all its forms, admire a man who, I think, is likely to have used more exclamation points in his work than any person in history?  And of course question marks, or perhaps more properly rhetorical questions, and italics.  One imagines Nietzsche breaking pen after pen in his efforts to declaim, frustrated that writing his thoughts (feelings may be more appropriate) was so little like shouting them which it seemed he longed to do--and perhaps did; I don't know.

Of course, Mencken was in his twenties when he wrote his book on Nietzsche's philosophy, and it was apparently the first book about that philosophy published in English.  Mencken, though, read him in the original German.  I've often wondered if translators are at fault for making Nietzsche (and others as well) appear so frenzied, but they seem to do so consistently.  It may be that exclamation points, endless rhetorical questions, and trumpeting italic emphasis were typically used by Europeans in the 19th century, but I doubt it.  Perhaps Mencken thought that as he was in a way introducing Nietzsche to the English speaking/reading world, it made sense to emphasize aspects of his works which he felt were new and interesting.

But since Mencken was relatively young, and Nietzsche's thought new to the English or American-English world, it's possible that Mencken found himself overwhelmed by a kind of Dionysian madness of the type Nietzsche seemed to extol.   He can be an intoxicating read for a young person.  I admit he was for me, in any case.  I read Zarathustra, Beyond Good and Evil, The Birth of Tragedy, in my teens, and was most impressed.  I may have read more of his work.  I'm not sure, though; they seem to run together in my mind as a kind of torrent, full of the kind of bold and dramatic assertions so pleasing to read at that age.

As I'm confessing, I may also just as well note I read Ayn Rand in those heady years, and was also impressed by her works.  I'm sure I'll insult someone by noting this, but I think there are similarities between the two, at least as to style--declamatory, condemning, absolute, intolerant, angry.

I like to think an older, wiser, or at least more jaded Mencken would have had second thoughts about Nietzsche.  But unfortunately even an admirer of Mencken must acknowledge that he was something of an elitist (also something of a racist, unfortunately) and did not think fondly of most of his fellow humans.  He was certainly not a fan of American democracy or American politicians, for the most part.  It may be he shared with Nietzsche a certain contempt for the common herd, and what Nietzsche thought was the herd mentality.  This may have lead him to believe that we had no choice but to be mere members of the herd or a superman of sorts.  This can be a dangerously suggestive belief.

And there can be no doubt that Mencken shared with Nietzsche a distaste for Christianity.  Mencken was, I believe, far wittier than Nietzsche in his treatment of it, though, as he was in his treatment of all things.  What I have read of Mencken indicates he felt Christianity was to be criticized because of its status in his mind as a superstition, and its disregard of what reason and science tells us.  Nietzsche may have felt this way about Christianity also, but it seems he was primarily repulsed by it because it renders us meek in a way he found objectionable.

I think wit makes us tolerant, or at least serves to make us less inclined to think highly not only of others but ourselves.  Nietzsche I would not consider a witty man; he took everything far too seriously, including I would say himself.  His little essays about why he was more clever, etc., than everyone else may have been intended as wit, though.  It seems to me that if that was his intent in writing them, his good intentions soon gave way to his tendency to pontificate. 

They say opposites attract, however, and it may be that Mencken in reading Nietzsche recognized in him a disparate soul, with a kind of enthusiasm and feeling Mencken lacked, being an analytic mind and not an intuitive one like the philosopher.  Like that philosopher, I should say, who may more properly considered a poet, or at least a frustrated one. 

Homage to Hitchens

I've just finished Christopher Hitchens' short biography of Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Jefferson: Author of America, and being reminded thereby of how well he wrote thought I'd devote some time and thought and space, here, to express some admiration for him and his work.  I tend to think a little less of Jefferson than he did.  In fact, I think of Jefferson as being in many respects something of a self-righteous hypocrite, but there's no doubting his significance.  But with Hitchens its possible to read and enjoy even when his subject matter is disagreeable.

I haven't read the books by which I assume he is, or perhaps even will be, remembered--his denunciations of religion and defense of atheism.  I know well enough his views on these topics, I think, from reading those shorter denunciations which would appear now and then online or in certain magazines, and his work on Thomas Paine.  I'm familiar enough with the arguments and the examples, at least as familiar as I want to be.  I think he was a bit extreme in some of his comments on these and other issues and people; he didn't understate, ever, though of course he could be ironic.

I admire his style and am sympathetic with many, but not all, of his opinions.  I sometimes wonder why I am so impressed by those who can write well.  Perhaps it comes from being a lawyer.  Legal writing is seldom eloquent and almost never witty, though it generally manages to be clear.  My admiration of style in writing leads me to forgive or at least tolerate those with whom I disagree who can write well.  Gore Vidal, who once considered Hitchens a kind of successor, wrote very well I think, but would express opinions now and then I thought absurd.  Nonetheless, I enjoyed reading him almost always.

Those that pass for intellectuals in these sad times often seem incapable of writing admirably, though they are more than capable of writing extensively, even relentlessly.  Most of our commentators seem to have adopted a declamatory style which I find tiresome.  Those that comment verbally are either boorish or pedantic.  This in combination with the fact that they are ubiquitous leads me to despair now and then, but also now and then I encounter someone capable of writing well, and feel a kind of tranquility.  Encountering someone who can think well and write well is an increasingly rare joy.

I find it interesting that what we call 9/11 resulted in a change in his status among the intelligentsia.  His railings against Islamic fundamentalism seem to make perfect sense given his views on religion generally, so the fact that his former comrades on the Left turned against him because of his support for actions against that fundamentalism is somewhat surprising.  This can be explained in part if their disagreement was with his support for certain actions, like the war in Iraq, but it seems broader-based.  He also burned bridges by his contempt for Bill Clinton and other liberal icons.

It strikes me that he was, for the most part, consistent in his thought and writing--based on what I've read, in any case.  He was a self-described contrarian who was just that.  Individuals are becoming scarce, though many claim to be individuals.  Self-styled individuals lurking in their bunkers awaiting government agents are merely deluded, however.  Anger doesn't make an individual, though it can make trouble for others.

Those who have wit and style, those that can write well, seem to be less objectionable than others, at least to me.  Even when they support acts or state views I oppose, I find them interesting and worthy of respect.  When I respect someone, I don't take them for granted, I don't treat them lightly.  It's impossible to feel contempt for those you respect or to disregard them.  One has to take them into account.

That's why respect is important, far more important than love, I think, because love is always reserved to a few.  The key to tolerance of others, the only thing that might save us yet, is respect.  Self-respect may even do the trick, as self-respect assumes the existence of thoughts, emotions and conduct which are unworthy.

I think we must add Hitchens to Mencken and Beirce as fierce, witty, eloquent critics of our society, culture and times, and mourn his passing as we mourn their absence.

Plaintive Love

We are commanded to love one another, in the Bible.  It's been claimed that this injunction distinguishes Christian ethics from others.  That may be true.  I wonder, though, whether that is to its credit.  That is to say, I wonder whether this command can be followed.  If it can't be in most cases, that would seem to make loving one another an unrealizable, and therefore useless, ideal.

I would maintain that it is an ideal that certainly has not been followed, by Christians or others, except in individual cases which themselves are distinguished from others as being romantic or familial in nature.  A parent (normally) loves his/her child.  One person may be in love with another.  But nobody loves a neighbor, or acquaintance, or enemy, or anyone but one's child as one loves one's child, nor does anyone love anyone but one's lover as one loves one's lover.  It would be dishonest to claim otherwise.

It may be asserted that the command that we "love one another" is not a command that we love all others as we love our children, or as we love our lovers.  And it's true that another Christian injunction is that we love our neighbor as we love ourselves.  It's not clear to me, though, that we can love ourselves as we may love others.  We have no relation to ourselves, unless we subscribe to a dualism odder than most.  However, we necessarily have relations to and with others, for the excellent reason that they are other.  And just how do we love ourselves that can be said to apply to our love for others?

If what is intended by "love" one another is that we feel benevolent towards each other, or seek each other's good, then it seems to me we're not referring to "love."  We're referring to being nice, or fair, or helpful to one another.  We will be nice to those we love, of course, but we'll be much more than that as well. 

An ethics based on love would be wonderful, but it is fantastic; so remote from what is the case that it cannot be achieved and is not applied.  If we seek to be moral, we should set standards which can be achieved.  Any realistic ethic must be based on such standards.

We can, for example, respect one another without having to be dishonest regarding our actual status and feelings.  We need not love someone to have respect for their person, thoughts and desires. 

Those who enjoin us to love one another do us, and themselves, a disservice.  They urge us to do something we will not and cannot do.  Especially when such an injunction is portrayed as a divine command, this can lead us to disregard what is within our capacities which can guide us in our conduct. 

To paraphrase Mencken (and refer to him once again) love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.  We can imagine all we want, but we will address our problems only through the application of our intelligence, because intelligence is part of our interaction with each other and the rest of the world.  Imagination may inform intelligence, may encourage us to be creative in our intelligence, but that is all it can do.