peace

Three Sentences About Thoughts And Things

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 Spring officially started March 20th and it is now the second day of May. How do I officially know spring is actually here in upstate NY? There is “possible snow” in the forecast.

Donald J Trump is often credited by super intelligent, oxygen-starved pundits with playing chess in as many as “five dimensions”*, since he is way smarter than the rest of us playing in the normal amount of dimensions***. That is a true statement but fails to mention what the Fifth Dimension** is. Most of us normal people are happy–and smart–with 3D.

Since his name was brought up, ask AI how much money the Trump family has made in the last 19 months from Crypto Currency. Don’t ask me what it is or how it works since all I know is Crypto is unregulated and only really enjoyed by the super-rich or those wanting to be super-rich. I am neither.

According to all official sources, The War in Iran is over. We won. Cue the sailors kissing random women in Times Square.

Hold on, this just in: If Iran doesn’t agree to our terms we will bomb them into non-existence. Put a hold on the casting call for sailors and kissable women. For now.

Correction. Ai says no one has specifically used the word “non-existence”.  While Emma’s search was disappointing, so was her lengthy list of other “official” words used to describe what will happen if our peace terms are not agreed to. My paraphrasing was easier and succinct.*****

On the subject, what will these essays be about in future years, when Trump is out of office? Feelings? Getting old?

Speaking of old, when exactly do we “age out” of caring about current entertainment? It’s been years since any actor or singer nominated for any culturally relevant award was known to me or had any creation I was familiar with. Is it possible I won an award and not know it?

Sex is a problem—in many ways—for us old people but sex has found a new way to cause angst. One afternoon I tried several new television programs in several different streaming platforms but ended my entertainment search because there was as a sex scene in the first 5 minutes of every show sampled. I am old but I still believe in foreplay.

Footnotes**** are—again—misnumbered and—again—left alone as a “cognitive test”. If you believe they are not corrected because of laziness, congratulations. You are smart enough to play chess with our current President.

*Ask Ai, but be ready for AI to be diplomatic. At least my Ai voice, Emma, is.

**Popular Mid-60s to Mid-70s singing group with 5 songs hitting number 1. You might need some help if you really think this is the Fifth Dimension Trump is in, though it makes more sense, relatively speaking, than anything other explanation.

***Do you know how many named and unnamed dimensions there are?

****But not this one.

*****But I always enjoy using this guttural, dirty-sounding word.

Civilization and People and God

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It occurred to me as I was reading the normal allotment of assorted news this morning, there may be a higher force involved in the rise and fall of civilizations. National Geographic once published a large, fold out chart showing the timeline of the major civilizations that have come and gone from the Earth. Incas, Mayans, Sioux, Ottomans, as well as Celts, Pics, Huns, and multiple Asian Dynasties. The information is too large for my own mental storage system, and too diverse to even memorize all the lost civilizations, but the graphic point illustrated is that civilizations have come and gone for all the time the globe has spun, making ripe opportunities for current civilizations to learn enough lessons to do better next time and last longer. But do we?

Most dynasties flame out after a few hundred years, an important fact as we begin to celebrate 250 years of the United States of America. It appears we haven’t learned anything as we are on the very cusp of a slope we can either go down or avoid. History often cites hubris and over-extension as a reason for a civilization to disappear, but no one can ever be sure. Imagine a population getting so big it outgrows not only sewer systems, but food delivery systems, health systems, and judicial systems. It’s a simple step, then, to infer a collapse of society and a descent into unstoppable chaos and decay. As our 2026 government focuses on external expansion, internal issues fester and multiply, all the while government hopes money, riches, wealth, rare earth metals, and other tangible things are the glue that will hold us together for another 250 years.

In remembering the chart as it was on my wall, and staring at it every day, it looked like a complicated system of trial and error, start and restart. If looked like a record of humankind  trying to figure out the best “style” civilization to ensure long-lasting survival, it tells a story. The main problem appears to be the generations of citizens populating those civilizations. Looked at this way, we (the Royal We) have tried one way, it didn’t work, we tried another, and we tried another, but we didn’t give up…for millions of years.

Unless you are an atheist, or a strong-willed agnostic, it’s hard not to see the hand of a Higher Power directing these actions on the macro (world) level, while we can also empathize with the suffering that must have been endured at the micro (person) level. One can hope, by the way, that the Higher Power was of some comfort to the billions of humans on that micro level who died. What else could it be to them? The sun didn’t just come and go, a god made it happen.

The conclusion reached by this writer is one he senses in life: there is a God, but He lets us work things out on our own. No fire and brimstone, no flooding, just live and learn and faith and hope. What else do we need? Over a few million years, and billions of lost lives, we will eventually get to a civilization that works and makes God…happy? Hard to say, since God being unhappy might, yet, yield Armageddon-ish consequences. But He is playing the Long Game and probably still holds out hope (faith?) we will get it right…. someday. The hard part for those of us existing now is, it may not be this moment, this very time, when we get it right. Should we take consolation in understanding we are just part of an incremental step in the establishment of a world where all can live in peace and harmony?

Maybe, but here is what God wants from His people in any civilization: Love everyone, and live The Golden Rule.

Sounds corny but think of your best friend and how you are when you are around him, her, or them*. Now imagine feeling the same for everyone else. In this day and age, your next thought will be about how you CAN’T live that way, and those thoughts are normal and necessary for micro survival but… what if they weren’t? What if micro survival did not even matter…in the long term? And what about the ages and ages and ages of life to follow? And when our macro leaders fail us, where do we go when we are no longer breathing? And what if, with each passing civilization, a larger and larger per cent of its people lived God’s macro dream and worked for the best we could be? Will the deaths of 800 billion others be worth it?

That National Geographic chart on my wall ended in 2009, but it is not the end of the story, just the latest update. Those of us alive, now, should see it as a start and imagine where we go from here.

Just have faith? Yes. Hope will help a lot, too.

Or not.

*A nod to pets, too, and other plants and animals. Our ancestors.

Another Amusing Thing About Old Age?

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As if physical decline (PD) wasn’t enough by itself, there is mental decline (MD) to worry about as a bonus for living longer. A strange oddity about MD is how does one observe said decline if one is the victim of said decline? Aching knees and joints are positive (WTF! Positive??) indicators of PD both my inner voice (IV) and outer voice (OV) easily recognize and process. Neither IV or OV is happy about it, but knowledge is power, and uncertainty is emotionally crippling. So when it comes to MD who will be the canary in the coalmine, IV or OV? Those two are already debating the issue in internal memos and hints of MD are leaking out through OV. IV has noticed lately, memories recounted by OV are being…embellished. Not outright fabricated stories but as IV searches the files it is finding inconsistencies in the tales OV is passing off as historical fact.

There are several memories (about five) from my past which are important milestones, or “forks in the road” for life as it unfolded. The memories used to be accurate recollections of times when life could have gone either way or at least changed direction. OV has retold those stories for years without inner turmoil or even discussion. The recollections were part of the story line of my life, with each recollection supporting each decision made and subsequent, related actions taken. Each story had its flaws, and its revealing moments where I might not have looked my best, despite persevering, and moving on with life.

But many times, in the last 34 months, as the stories have been recounted for medical professionals, new friends, or old friend wanting to know more, IV has raised its hand and suggested “That ain’t the way it happened.” For example, I’ve always told the story of a young, long-haired, hippy, radical Colgate freshman being escorted out a rural bar at the end of a shotgun. The listener is left free to assume a political or societal issue related to a liberal hippy in rural America. But here is what IV says: it was a drug deal gone bad, and I’d stepped on the toes of a local dealer running his operation out of the establishment in question. IV correctly points out I was a common criminal not a rebellious, anti-war icon. My power as an umpire over OV and IV is questionable, but there is no reason to believe IV wrong, as IV’s version of events paints a negative picture of the hero OV must want me to be.

But the real important issue is two pronged: 1. When did the story change? All of my internal voices knew the exact truth in November 1970, so when—and how—did the story change? And 2. How many of those “very important” memories have been infected with the “Need To Make It Better Virus? (NTBV). And is there a cure for NTBV and its possible variants?

My first hope is OV, IV and me are normal issues and the upgrading (upselling?) of memories is a normal function suffered by all who age gracefully. In other words, my extremely agile mind-group has found a way to get me to believe I’m not only normal, but also special for noticing it.

And I am heroic, as well, for talking about it in this open space.

Okay. To summarize…I may have some personality issues needing therapy and it is not heroic to note that, it is good, common sense.

But what if all of this is woke mumbo jumbo. What if IV is wrong? What if OV HAS been right all these years? What if…

All I know, now, is I wish God made easier signposts for MD. We need them.

It’s My Fault, It Has To Be

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I’ve spent a good part of this afternoon “chatting”, talking, and inventing new words to help in talking with customer service reps both human and Ai. Ai is starting to be as disappointing as humans. Twice Ai warned me. Once a disclaimer at the bottom of a search result: “Gemini can make mistakes, so double-check it.” The second time, on a phone call it said “You are speaking to an Ai generated agent and my information may not be precise or accurate.” Guess how I responded. There are two unopened bars of 100% pure Ivory Hand soap in my bathroom and if my mom were here…

To be straight, I’ve never used the internet singular for research of importance. Much as I use Amazon as a “shopping idea and reference”, so, too do I use an internet “fact”. It’s a starting point. So imagine when the new, super-charged search engine called Ai warns me they might be wrong, what is the point and who is kidding who about the efficiency of Ai in our future? Oddly, who would I double-check Ai with, anyway? God?

Is the internet good for anything, anymore? Yes. It saves legwork and time. My research finds a starting point and then looks for back-up, confirming, and supportive facts from other sources. Most often, those facts come from BOOKS or writings originating someplace else that wind up in the realm of public knowledge. News “aggregators”, sites that collect news stories the reader might like, are a case in point. The origin of the site’s stories is the most important thing to check in this click bait world. As a journalist by training, I know stories and articles from “legacy” media will not just be some podcaster’s opinion, but a researched, reviewed, edited, and approved work. An organization with some sort of review and edit structure has a better chance of giving us the truth than one, single mouth. I look for the source and hope it is The New York Times, Newsweek, USA Today, even CBS, NBC, and CNN…and Fox.  These organizations’ stories may contain some bias, but it is obvious when it happens. Watch Fox for half an hour and see. If a news article is from The Czech Daily, or John’s Basement Tapes, or an individual mouthpiece like Limbaugh, Bongino*, or Grandmas Knickers, it is more than likely click bait. It’s easier to see this with Medicine where excellent websites are available from The Mayo Clinic, Harvard Medical, Johns Hopkins, and your own local newspaper. As a bonus these types of sites also include patient blogs which can be invaluable for your own unique situation.

The internet is still a wonderful place for pure entertainment. You can not only see a man get hit in his gonads but can also see The Benny Goodman Quartet at New York’s Carnegie Hall in 1938.** But you are all aware of those neat things, already so it’s YOUR fault if you don’t find them and safely enjoy them.

It can be a neat, easy, and productive foray into the the nether world, out there, as long as you know who your guide is, and what they want from you. It isn’t always peace and love.

*Props for Mr. Bongino, the FBI Deputy Director. When asked about his false conspiracy claims from the past he said, truthfully and honestly: “I was paid in the past, Sean, for my opinions. …but that’s not what I’m paid for now.”

**A special performance, The first “mainstream” jazz concert.

Tuesday Morning Wha’??

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On Tuesday morning, October 8, 2024, God (Of any denomination) saw fit to install a rainbow outside the balcony of my apartment. It was awesome. Spectacular. Divine. It was full size and the entire arc of its beautiful design could be traced with my finger. I took lots of pics and videos but mainly stood there, jaw dropped, while the camera clicked away. The rainbow was so bright…and it had a partner. The second rainbow ran parallel to the first for most of the arc of the first, but didn’t have enough oomph to make it all the way. For moment I felt bad for the second, but then remembered There’s Two rainbows outside my window!

Never, ever have I witnessed two rainbows at once. Not in over 72 years filled with rainstorms, morning afters, and weather catastrophes. Never. even after Our Tornado this summer.

The colorful entities filled me with a sense of wonder lasting hours, and never fully dissipated until after the hours of rain the rainbows had presaged. There was a feeling of satisfaction, too, that someone, somewhere, felt I deserved not one, but two morning rainbows. My life on earth is being monitored and appreciated. The Boss had noticed my work!

A reason the awe and wonder faded was as the morning went along, I talked with others and they, too, had seen two rainbows…just before the rains. I wasn’t the only one….

Who cares about the others? The rainbows were there for me. The ‘Bows became a sign, an omen, to me. The rainbows were a delight, a blessing, a message to remember what’s important in life, and not stoop to cheating, lying, and taking advantage of others in our modern, self-centered world. And to remember to be happy with enough, and not long for too much more than what we need.

Then, another thing happened: contentment washed over me and settled in my pockets, my hair, and all the horizontal surface areas of my body. Even up my freshly plucked nose and recently shaved ears. I felt it burrow into my beard. It was going to be around for awhile. I wasn’t going to shower, ever.

As with the rest of you, there is a lot going on in our lives. Whatever it is, whatever bothers us, it’s nice to know a rainbow (or two) can make it all go away…for a day or two.

Nature? Nurture? Let’s call the whole thing off…

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A farm up bringing in the 1950s and 60s set the foundation for a certain life: frugal, efficient, and ornamentally-deprived

Add to the mix a pubescent mind reading the complete works of JD Salinger, and a love of 1950’s folk music and what do you get?

A young human being who has a serious issue with modern materialism/consumerism.

I was sun bathing on a picnic table behind a building in my home city this morning, and the huge tree next to me said: “Talk to me.” Are plants sentient? The tree was 80 feet tall, or more, and had a canopy designed so perfectly, the blue sky was brilliantly painted in the spaces between the thick, green leaves. And the sun came in to the picnic table at an angle, so as to tan, but still allow my gaze free access to the sky.

It was perfect. It was heaven. And it was free. No charge. No deposit. No waste. No plastic packaging.

I answered the tree. I asked if it was lonely, even though its majestic canopy seemed to be holding hands with the neighboring trees. It didn’t answer but had anyone else in history talked to this tree? It had to be very old. Was it senile? I touched its bark but still no more words. Maybe trees aren’t sentient, after all.

But are humans? My recent move from the south to the north highlighted how fast–and insidious–consumerism is: a lot of “things” left my life through donation, garage sale, gifting, or (sadly) garbage. All that came north was what I needed. It fit in my small car. Where had all those departed things come from? And why did a “human being who has a serious issue with modern materialism/consumerism” have all this excess stuff?

The idyllic morning in my tree support group sent me back to college days, when as Freshman we were challenged to “challenge everything”, every modern assumption, every modern truth, every modern “ism”.

There is no hope for the world if a man who hates consumerism ends up a absent minded consumer, is there? Was it my nature that overcame my nurture? Or was it something else?

Back at my apartment, I looked for my worn copy of Vance Packards 1957 book: “The Hidden Persuaders”, a book about how advertisers can manipulate consumers, but it was gone. I’ll just have to buy another.