The Timely Rage of Howard Beale

I wonder how many recall the movie Network and its seemingly demented anchorman, Howard Beale, played by Peter Finch.  Beale was maddened by the mess the world was in, thought his job as an anchorman served merely to promulgate lies and hypocrisy, had no answers to any of the world's problems, but thought it necessary, before addressing them, for all to get angry.  Famously, while on national TV, he urged viewers to throw open their windows and shout "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore!"

The film came out in 1976, but what he rants against, initially, are characteristics of the world in which we live now in most ways.  It's interesting to watch the clip, which is available like so much else on the Web.  Not much has changed.  

His rage and his phrase resonate.  People throw open their windows and shout.  The network for which he works milks it for all it's worth, of course, changing its news format to something which is also fairly familiar in these sad times (think Fox News), geared towards pandering to the lowest common denominator.  Mad as hell in more ways than one, Beale's persuaded by the network's corporate masters to become their shill.  Things go on much as they did before.  It's money that matters, as Randy Newman sang.  Not much has changed in that respect, either.

No figure quite like Beale has appeared in today's traditional media (yet), but the rage is there, and we're not limited to traditional media anymore.  There are plenty of seemingly demented souls on social media.  Also, there are plenty available to take advantage of them as the network took advantage of Beale in the movie.

Those who take advantage of our rage now are little different from those who took advantage of our rage all those years ago.  In a way, the continuance of our desire for money and power and our facility in devising ways to pursue them serve as comforting in a time when things seem to become less and less in our control and life more manic.  Politicians, the media, corporations continue to manipulate us.  Even our anger can provide them with opportunities by which they may be benefited.

Until it's directed against them.  One wonders whether that will ever take place, though.  It may on a temporary basis.  The French Revolution was a case of rage directed against those with political and economic power which destroyed those with power with considerable efficiency.  The Terror was an expression of that rage.  The change which took place as a result was extensive, though not total.  

It seems to me that outside of that remarkable event, our history indicates that we're fated to be manipulated by the same kinds of people who've always manipulated us, in saecula saeculorum.  After all, we have the same faults they have; we merely lack the means by which to indulge them.  Our plight is self-perpetuating.

Not much will change.

 

Homage to Saint Simeon

The Saint that is the subject of this post, and homage, is that Simeon who is described as a "holy fool."  I don't give homage to that Simeon who is known for the length of time he lived on a small platform atop a pillar, though it must be admitted that this is a remarkably stupid thing to do.  Homage is inappropriate in the case of that Simeon.  Homage is, I believe, due the Simeon who apparently lived in the 6th century C.E. or A.D. and was considered, justly it appears, to be mad.

That particular St. Simeon famously dragged the corpse of a dog behind him in his travels.  He would blow out candles in churches.  He was also known to throw nuts at the clergy during masses, and also at women.  I'm uncertain why he threw nuts at both.  If there is a connection between them, and them and nuts, it escapes me.  He was known to skip and dance his way around the arena during public performances or games.  On feast days calling for fasting he would eat huge amounts of food, particularly beans, and then proudly indulge the effects of eating that "magical fruit."

He is shown in the picture above, apparently doing a kind of summersault for the delight of those waiting along his path.  The dog appearing with him is presumably dead.  He's known as the patron saint of puppeteers, and pictures of him sometimes show him brandishing a puppet of some kind--probably an angel.

In the peculiar logic of religious belief, his bizarre behavior is claimed as evidence of his saintliness.  Sometimes, it's maintained that he acted like a lunatic in order to demonstrate that life on earth was a farce, and only the Kingdom of God important.  Perhaps he is meant to be a kind of Christian version of Diogenes.  After all, according to Plato, Diogenes was Socrates gone made.

But I confess that I suspect he was mentally ill.  I also confess that it delights me that such a person was made a Saint.  A crazy Saint is worthy of reverence.  I must see if there is a St. Simeon the Holy Fool medal.  I'd gladly wear it.

And, although it seems this Simeon isn't the patron Saint of fools, it's appropriate that there be one, particularly given the prevalence of fools here in our Great Republic and elsewhere.  Those who believe in such things as a worldwide conspiracy of powerful pedophiles should have someone they may ask to intervene with God on their behalf, and who better than the nut-throwing St. Simeon?  Though it seems they've lost their minds, they wouldn't pray to St. Anthony being uninterested in finding them.

 

The Law as Public School Teacher

You'd think our Glorious Union has had enough of laws seeking to dictate what is or is not taught in public schools.  The infamous Butler Act, adopted by the State of Tennessee nearly 100 years ago, led to the Scopes Trial, which led to the humiliation of William Jennings Bryan (and possibly his death mere days after the trial concluded) by Clarence Darrow, to some blistering articles by H.L. Mencken, and made the United States the laughing-stock of a good portion of the Western World, is perhaps the most notable law which sought to do so in modern times.  Or at least it was, until recently. 

The Butler Act at least had the virtue of clarity.  That law stated in pertinent part "[t]hat it shall be unlawful for any teacher in any of the universities, normals and all other public schools of the State which are supported, in whole or in part, by the public school funds of the state, to teach any theory that denies the story of the Divine Creation of man as taught in the Bible, and to teach instead that man has descended from a lower order of animals."  I know, the use of the word "story" in the law is amusing.  The legislators of Tennessee were apparently unaware of the implications of that word.

But now the State of Florida has adopted a law which similarly seeks to regulate what takes place in classrooms, which not only lacks clarity but seems to flaunt its vagueness.  This is the so-called "Don't Say Gay" law, officially Florida SB 1834."  It states, also in pertinent part:

 "A school district may not encourage classroom discussion about sexual orientation or gender identity in primary grade levels or in a manner that is not age-appropriate or developmentally appropriate for students.  A parent of a student may bring an action against a school district to obtain a declaratory judgment that a school district procedure or practice violates this paragraph and seek injunctive relief. A court may award damages and shall award reasonable attorney fees and court costs to a parent who receives declaratory or injunctive relief."

Defenders of the law like to point out that it provides that discussion of sexual orientation or gender identity is only contrary to the law in kindergarden to third grade, according to its terms ("primary grade levels").  Who would object to that, really?  I doubt anyone does.  But that's not all the law says.  It also says discussion of such topics may not be encouraged "in a manner that is not age-appropriate or developmentally appropriate for students."  So, the law clearly applies to students of other grade levels.

A reading of the law raises several serious questions:

How does one encourage classroom discussion?  Must the discussion take place in a classroom for the law to be violated, and a cause of action arise?  What is "sexual orientation or gender identity"?  Does the fact that the law refers to a "school district procedure or practice" indicate that encouragement (whatever that may be) by a single, "rogue" teacher or other school district employee (a janitor?) wouldn't be actionable? Is it necessary that a policy or procedure, sanctioned by the school district expressly or by implication, as an entity, exist? What do "age appropriate or developmentally appropriate" mean? Is that left to the courts and the lawyers who litigate claims to decide?  Just what kind of damages are available to a parent in the action created by this law? 

What is "age appropriate or developmentally appropriate" is clearly subjective, and would vary from student to student.  Florida's legislature probably gave parents the right to sue under the law in an effort to avoid enforcement of the law being considered "state action" for constitutional purposes.  But that would leave interpretation of the law undetermined until precedent could be established through the courts, and that won't happen anytime soon.  In the interim, school districts and teachers will be justly terrified of being sued by some parent or another who thinks wrong words are being spoken in classrooms.  They may therefore be inclined to take fairly drastic steps to avoid litigation, e.g. refusing to require the reading of any books the subject matter of which involve sexual relations, prohibiting the use of certain words in classrooms, disciplining teachers, etc.

In short, it's a shoddy law, and will be difficult and expensive to implement.  The cynic in me wonders if the law was adopted purely to discourage talk of sex in the classroom, especially talk of particular kinds of sex.  Sex is something which has always frightened Americans, especially when it comes to the task of making children aware of it.  I think most of them would like if others had that task.  It may even be, ultimately, a form of posturing by politicians, always interested in obtaining popular support (at least when it doesn't interfere with monetary gain).

The law is alleged to be one protecting parental rights.  But do parents have a legitimate interest in making certain their children under the age of majority don't hear certain words of learn what other people are in terms of gender or sexual orientation?  Is it possible, indeed, that they think students won't otherwise learn of such things or speak about them unless they're "encouraged" to do so by teachers?  Only a fool would think that.

For my part, I think most parents are detriments to education, generally speaking.  They recognize that basic skills such as reading, writing and 'rithmatic (as the old song goes) must be acquired, though they probably would prefer that the use of the legendary "hickory stick" be reserved to themselves.  But otherwise, I think the preference of most is that their children think like them, be like them, talk like them and act like them until they become adults, at which time parents can claim that they're beyond their control and influence.  The sad fact is that most parents would prefer that their children not learn more than their parents have, at least in cultural or social matters in my opinion, and it may be that this law is an expression of that fact.

Justice itself isn't blind, but the law is, in the sense that the law may be good or bad, wise or stupid.  This particular law is stupid.  But it is a law nonetheless, just as the Butler Act was law, and may wreck all the havoc it did, and more.  

Mere Thuggery is Loosed Upon the World

In the drawing above, Senator Charles Sumner is shown in the course of being assaulted with a cane by Preston Brooks, a member of the House of Representatives.  It's an interesting moment in the history of Congress, and that of the United States.  Not all that long after Sumner was beaten unconscious, the Civil War began.  It's not completely clear whether Brooks was motivated to cane Sumner because of the latter's stance against slavery, or because the Senator vilified a fellow Senator who was Brooks' kinsman.  I think it's likely that Brooks felt his kin was being dishonored, as Sumner and others made their anti-slavery stance clear long before the incident.  Brooks evidently didn't challenge Sumner to a duel because he didn't consider Sumner to be a gentlemen.  So, he resorted to beating him as he would a dog or, likely, a slave.

"Thuggery" is variously defined as rough, violent or anti-social behavior by criminals or bullies.  I'd call the caning of one member of Congress by another an act of thuggery.  Happily, actual violence between members of Congress is relatively rare.  But thuggery of one kind or another is becoming commonplace, or so thinks your less than humble servant, Ciceronianus.

Why is this?  Consider those who have commonly been described as thugs.  There were of course the bandits in India from whom the word is derived.  Unfortunately, the word has become associated with some rap or hip-hop sorts who apparently find being considered a thug to be attractive.  But it's also been associated commonly with, e.g., mafiosos, low-level but brutal criminals, bullies, muggers, and even some political regimes, like the ever-repulsive Nazis (unless of course you're a devotee of Heidegger, the Nazi so esteemed by intellectuals, the good Nazi).

Thuggery by a political regime is most recently on display with the Russian invasion of the Ukraine.  The reasons given for the invasion have been baseless, and even obviously so.  Some are absurd.  There is some truth in the assertion that Russia and the Soviet Union has for a very long time always wanted and claimed the Ukraine, but though that may be a fact it's hardly grounds for an invasion, unless it is simply a means by which territory may be obtained that is claimed by a recognized, sovereign nation by another stronger nation through the use of force, which is to say by thuggery.

But thuggery is evident in other respects as well, though perhaps in a smaller and less violent way.  Here in our Great Republic, it seems to be increasingly characteristic of our politics and many of our people.  The person formerly known as the president was and is in several ways a kind of thug-wannabe--an admirer of real thugs on the world stage, and a (thus far) failed thug in his efforts to overturn a legal election.  This is not to mention the manner in which he ran his (often failed) businesses, blithely avoiding debts through the bankruptcy courts and, apparently, spreading unsubstantiated claims regarding their financial soundness.

It can also be maintained that he and his minions encourage thuggery.  As a friend recently said, through them an "ugly door" has been opened and several kinds of bullies, boors, bigots and others have flowed through it to run amuck in our society in a kind of celebration or festival of thuggery, sometimes of a low, mean kind and sometimes by those pretending to a grand manner in politics, media and culture.  Rudeness and the flaunting of ignorance and prejudice are seen as admirable; some people seem to think they're entitled to be louts.  It's become something of an honor.

We may be becoming a nation of Jonathan Swift's Yahoos, without Houyhnhmns to guide us. 

O Fortuna

You've all heard  O Fortuna, though you may not know that you have.  This medieval poem was set to music by Carl Off in the 1930s.  The poem itself is a rather grim, even angry, description of the goddess Fortune.  Set to music, it is an ominous, and then thundering, condemnation of the vagaries of cruel Fate and the life we're made to live while on Earth.

The pagan goddess Fortune was, no doubt, cursed from time to time, though my guess is more effort was devoted to placating her than cursing her.  In this poem, though, we have what I think is a very Christian work, consumed as it seems to be by hate and despair of Fate in the kingdom of this world.  Life on earth, after all, is almost by definition inclined to evil, as are we, or so it was thought by the Church when this poem was written.

You've probably heard it in various movies and perhaps even during a TV show, used to render a scene portentous, or comical when heard during something silly and it's used to mock.  I remember thinking it might be something of Wagner's when it was played during the movie Excalibur along with Siegfried's Funeral March and bits of Parsifal and Tristan and Isolde.  Oddly, it was played during a scene when Arthur and his knights road out to face Mordred, and the country was coming alive in spring blossoms with the return of the king.

We might think it appropriate as part of the soundtrack of our times, when everyone weeps with us.  A Stoic of the ancient past might think life, however changeable and hurtful, was only seemingly so, and evil only in the limited view allowed us as the kind of creatures that we are.  What the Universal Reason dictates is beyond us, but necessarily good.  A more modern version of a Stoic might have no trust in a spirit of intelligence motivating the universe, but would aspire as would the ancient Stoic to recognize that it is foolish to allow what is beyond our control to disturb us and be content to govern ourselves if not events.

Governing ourselves, thinking of us as a group of any kind, seems beyond our power these days, however.  The tendency is not to do so, in fact, but to leave that to someone else, provided only that our governor seem to be not only powerful but a panderer, playing up to us and gratifying our increasingly material and simple, meaning baser, desires.  It seems we'd be content with very little, really.  Perhaps it's always been so, in the end.  Food, shelter, entertainment and the sense that we're better than others are all that are needed to make us content, Fortune be damned.  

Those of medieval times may have felt that they were responsible for the evils inflicted on them by the world, or God.  Many of us no longer think that way.  We're more inclined to blame others, not Fortune or Fate. Others make us angry, and are much more easily punished than Fate, or Fortune or God.  We don't bemoan our fate, we make others bemoan their fate.  But the soundtrack of our angry, vengeful time may still include O Fortuna for its effect if not its meaning.