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.  

 

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.

 

The "Principleless" Platform of a Platformless Party

     

Brevity can be a desirable thing in American politics.  A political speech that is brief and to the point would be admirable, for example.  And as everything in a political campaign in our Great Republic seems endless, repetitive and squalid, it's understandable that any curtailment of the process seems prima facie desirable.

But alas, the Resolution adopted by the Republican Party at its convention this year, though blessedly brief, isn't remarkable for its brevity.  It would be possible, though unusual, for principles of a party or candidate to be stated succinctly.  It's remarkable because it states no principles of any kind.  Indeed, it doesn't even try to do so.  In fact, its language seems to express a kind of delight or relief that no principles need be identified, and concludes with a stern statement to the effect that no effort to formulate or promulgate any principles will be tolerated.  So perhaps there were some Republicans who felt it was important that the party at least seem to endorse principles and were being told that wouldn't happen.

Only a portion of the resolvedly unprincipled Resolution is shown above.  Most of the rest of it consists of claims that the fact that the Resolution contains no principles should not be taken to reflect adversely on the Republican Party and that it is wrong for anyone to to suggest that it does.  But the Resolution also states, more than once, that the Republican Party is united in support of the president.

This is most appropriate.  As close members of his family and others have noted, the president has no principles.  It's entirely fitting that a political party which eschews principles, or at least the expression of them, would support a person who is manifestly unprincipled.  

It's amazing, however, that a political party would flaunt its insistence that no principles may be espoused by it.  The rule is that in politics as in advertising appearance is significant, not substance.  So the expectation would be that a party, a politician and a candidate will at least pretend to be principled, pretend to stand for something, with varying degrees of sincerity or success.  But the Republican Party is so blithe in its dismissal of any effort to adopt a set of principles for this election that it's clear it has decided its failure to do so isn't a matter of concern.  Oddly, it doesn't even incorporate the prior election's platform, but merely mentions that there's no need to prepare another.

Does this mean that it has chosen to be honest about the fact that statements of political principles are meaningless, and generally disregarded, and so their preparation a wasted effort? There are portions of the Resolution which suggests that is the case.  That would certainly be extraordinary, particularly of a party which is moralistic and self-righteous to an extreme.  It has a long history of generating platitudes.  You'd think it would be an easy thing to resurrect those used in the past, or prepare new ones adequate to the task.  Probably, this is merely an effort to contend that it doesn't really matter whether it has a platform or not, in the end.

And that strikes me as an expression of profound resignation, if not cynicism; an acceptance of the relegation of a party to the whims of a single, self-obsessed person.  It's as if Republicans were saying "Screw it.  Principles?  A platform?  Come on!"

But it's hard to think that there is such a level of self-evaluation at work.  It's more likely, I believe, that the majority of the voting members of the party understand that the electors, or at least those who will vote Republican, don't care what principles are adopted or appear to be adopted.  Their cultish devotion to the president is such that they need have no reason to support him or those that facilitate his caperings.  

As a result, there's a concern that restating or reformulating the traditional principles of the party would merely make it, and them, look silly.  Whatever devotion there was to those principles has disappeared.  The Republican Party, as it now exists, supports the president because it has nothing else to support.  His largely incoherent ramblings and bizarre conduct have little to do with the nation or the best interests of its citizens.  The party knows this.  The members of the party are so craven that they don't wish to risk his displeasure by seeming to believe that he should concern himself with such things, instead of himself.  That's something he will not do, and he would resent anyone who tells him he should.

But it may be the case that most of the party has come to accept that principles are inconvenient in any event.  The less thought about them the better in this age of diminished people, things and ideas.