Praying For my Eternal soul

MY RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS, pantheism with a twist of deism, have been at least cursorily articulated on this website. I love Einstein's quote: "My religiosity consists in humble admiration of the infinitely superior spirit which reveals itself in what lttle we, with our weak and transitory understanding, can comprehend of reality. I cannot conceive of a personal god who would sit in judgment over creatures of his own creation. Morality is ofthe utmost importance, for mankind,but not for God." That, in a nut shell, is me. My religious role model is, perhaps somewhat surprisingly, Einstein. Problem is, people keep praying for my eternal soul, even though I deny having one. Currently there are only two people doing this, but that is more than enough, two people more than enough. Culprit number one is the ninety year old church lady who plays the piano for our Monday morning goepel singing group at the senior center. Seems ironic, in a way. As they say, go figure. The second is my dear cousin on my father's side Tommy, a well educated retired sales person for a large corporation, a world class pianist with a Steinway in his front room, and he is also, I fear, a devout Baptist. Funny thing is, neither of them ever confronts me directly with this allegedly altruitic endeavor. Never a word to my face about my eternal soul, nor much of anything else. This arouse within me suspicions that what they are not so altruistic after all, that their real consern has nothing to do with my eternal soul, but rather, with their self esteem. By saving my soul, they can either elevate me, magnanimously, to their level of spiritual attainemnt, or by failing to save it, take condescending pity me as I languish at their blood washed feet. The way I was raised, whatever you say about others, be willing to say it to their face. And no, with a topic of such immediacy and importance,they shouldn't have to be asked. If you really think my eternal soul is in grave danger, which you don't, tell me to my face. At least give me a chance to do something about it, since you seem to believe that I'm not already aware of my dire peril, which indeed I am not, because there is none. This, I would bewilling to tell either of them or anybody else, I consider presumptuous, arrogant, narrow minded, condescending, and insulting, among other bad things. Aside from my continued amazement that anybodoy would be gulllible enough to believe that God speaks to us in books and stories, to believe in this perfect, bucolic, enternally unchanging heavenly paradise I find no less amazing. Amazing, but entirely under-standable. (Can you even imagine how boring that would become?) We are the only species of animla who is aware of and fully comprehends the implacations of our own mortality, so we are told by modern science. Fair enough. Lucky cats and dogs. We rare afraid to die, again, quite understanddable. To assuage somewhat our fears, we invent religion,we invnet our various and sundry sky gods, we we write "scripture" giving us gods rules, and we invent the loveliest possible place for us to inhabit not merely after death, but to inhabit eternally, rent free, as they say. Its that simple, and you'll have to show me some astronomy and phsyics books explaining to me exacly how heaven and hell are written into the fabric of the universe. If you haven't done the math, or if our modern science hasn't yet reached the point of being able to prove a negative, that heaven is sheer fantasy, I can wait. I'll have a long wait, an eternal one, because nobody can prove a negative,and nobody ever will. As some Arab said to Peer O'toole said in "Lawrence of Arabia", "It is written", written into the fabric of irreversible logic, that you cannot prove that something does not exist, but only that it does. I'll go on attending my Presbyterian church and Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, on alternate Sundays, loving every minute of both. My Baptist friends and family memvers will keep playing their instruments, at vastly different levels of proficiency, Both will, I assume, keep praying for my eternal soul, while I bask in the afterglow of my beloved cosmic big bang spirit god, pitying them for their folly, fearing for their sanity.

Making Law and Money

THE UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION identifies only three crimes as federal felonies: treason, piracy, and counterfeiting. Treason is defined as an armed insurrection against the government, a military uprising. We interpret treason now somewhat more loosely, to denote any activity deemed to be deliberately harmful to the united States, traitorous behavior intended to either harm or destroy the country. Piracy refers of course to apprehending vessels on the high seas or the great lakes. Counterfeiting,the printing and distrbution of invalid currency, has always been difficult to detect, especially since the advent of paper currency, "greenbacks", during the time of the Civil War. It is now estimated that a substantial part of United States currency currently in circulation is counterfeit. Sheepishly I recall touring the Bureau of Printing and Engraving building in Washington D.C..We were all given a sheet of one dollar bills in two rows of eight, sixteen dollars, all attatched to each other, as souvenirs of our visit. One must presume that most people framed them or kept them as keepsakes. I became more creative, by sheer necessity. Short on beer money, boggged down by the rigors of graduate school but feeling a bit stressed and needing a break from dissertation writing, I,well,took a pair of scissors scissors and carefully, very carefully cut my sheet into sixteen equally proportioned rectangles, and bought two or three six packs of Budweiser. (In those days, beer, like everything else, was cheaper.) It must have worked. I got back on track dissertation wise, wrote a passable description of the intellectuall relationship between Albert Einstein and Neils Bohr, and got the docorate. When I defended it in front of my doctoral commitee, and wisely omitted mention of the boost I had ill gotten by cutting up money for "beer for study", not that they would have cared. I recall being relieved at the time that the liquor store clerk failed to detect any sign of my finanicial perfidy. I still am. I never wonder whether any of my fabricated one dollar bills remainin in circulation; the average life span of a one dollar bill is...what, eighteen months? And, no, I am not proud of this. My question was and remains: Was I guilty of counterfeiting? I am disclined to actually want to know the answer, but can rather readily surmise what it is. Piracy is a crime which the United States committed only a few short days ago; the now famous or infamous hijacking of the oil tanker ship off the coast of poor Venezuela. Poor Venezuela, languishing under the suppression of a brutal dictator, and besieged by the ongoing threat of American naval power, courtesy Trump, and, to a lesser extent, the defunctand always unforecable Monroe Doctrine This one's on Trump, alone. We may also thank Don the Con for our most recent manifestation of treason, but also must give credit to his insurrectionist mob of January 6, 2021. And make no mistake; this was treason, of the highly organized pre planned kind. No, it was not technically a "military" insurrection, but an insurrection it was,and with nearly all the assailants of the Capitol building on that infamous day,was more than sufficiently "militarized" to be so labeled. In other words, close enough. Since 1787 more than forty thousand more crimes have been identified by Congress by legislated statutory law as federal crimes, and the number keeps growing. The purest two acts of treason we Americans ever commited were the Revolution against British rule, and the Civil War. Donald Trump and his MAGA mob are currently in third place, but hey, who's counting? And, after all, as they say, its still early.

Advocating Revolution

IN THE ELECTION OF 1800, Vice President Thomas Jefferson ran against incumbant John Adams. The two men despised each other, and hadn't spoken to each other cordially since the outset of the Washingtion administration. Much later, late in their lives, they would become friends. The two slandered each other mercilessly. Adams accused Jefferson of having the audacity to support the French Revolution, which indeed Jefferson had. In those days it was considered impolite, in poor form for presidential candidates to either slander each other or to taut their own virtues; campaigning was done by proxy. Tha Adams people dug up as much dirt as possible, which was considerable. They portrayed Jefferson as an adulterer and an atheist. Indeed he was the former, but his religion was more deistic than atheistic, although most folks at the time saw little if any difference. Jefferson's slander team headed by the newspaper smear merchant John Calendar, to whom Jefferson had agreed to pay the then hefty sum of fifty dollors for his services. labeled Adams a "tyrant", which to the ultra democratic Jefferson was the worst of all possible insults. We see by this that vicious campaigning is not a modern invention. The close election went to the House of Representatives, and on the seventy sixth ballot, Jefferson preaviled. Adams and his wife Abigail left the Capitol City without either congratulating the winner or attending his inauguration. We see that Donald Trump did not invent bad manners, although he certainly the to a new level. ON he way back to Braintree, Massachusetts, Abagail asked her husband: "My darling, why did you allow him to do this to you?" His reply: "Dearest one, if he wants it that badly, let him have it." Soon after Jefferson movedinto the newly constructed White Hous, while the paint was still drying and the furniture being arranged, John Calander walked into the Oval Office. He wanted his fifty dollars. Jefferson, land wealthy but broke as usual, didn't have the money. When Calendar suggested that he intended to publish in his slander sheet a description of Jefferson's affair with his slave Sally Hemmings, dreamy, high minded Tom suddenly found the money. For this reason,among others, Jefferson has been labeled by some historians as a "scoundrel", and hypocrite. The first description was only party accurate, the second bears more truth. Duringhis presidency, Jefferson alternately favored the French and the English,though much more ofteh the French, since his was a "Francophile". When the two foreign powers were at odds, which was most of the time, he became frustraed and amostpetulanty issued an embargo on imported goods from both, which was a disastrous action for the American economy, which sank almost immediately into a depression. Merchants had nothing to offer for sale except inferior domestic merchandise. By examining the shortcomings of the flawed but brilliant Jefferson, we are reminded, as Bill Clinton once said, that, arguably, nobody is qualified to be president. Maybe nobody ever has been. But, As jefferson himself wrote in the "Declaration of Independence", "when a long train of abuse evinces adesire to reduce us (the colonies) under tyranny"...,strong solutions, even revolution, becomes expedient, indeed necessary. And so we find ourselves once again subjected to unsatisfactory leadership, governed not by a foreign power or a president with limited leadership abilities, but by a demonatrable criminal and tyrant, of severely limited intellectual capabilites, and utter moral depravity. Jefferson said that we would need a revolution and new constitution every generation. Isn't it apparent that we are long overdue?

Policing

I AM NOT FOND of police officers. I respect what they do, and support what they do, but their invariably stern, stolid, stoic personalities I find somewhat off putting. Certain professions seem to attract certain personality types: the priggish, pedantic, nit picking high school English teacher. The friendly bar tender, the analytical, pugnacious attorney at law. Bless them all, for their varieety, service to humankind, and behavorial tendencies. On the iconic television show "Law and Order", officers Briscoe and Curtis, good guys, good detectives, struck me as being a couple of impudent thugs who can't wait to get the perp into the interrogation room and rough him up before the court appointed attorney arrives and shuts it down. When I was five years old, ny father, a lawyer and friend of the police, took me down to the local police station at my request. I wanted to meet a real cop. I expected a blue uniform. What I got was a suit and tie. I was shaking hans with a detective, was disappointed, and dad assured me that, uniform or not, I had indeed met an actual officer of the law. My disappointment lingered...in high school, I was staggering home from a party one night, drunk as a seventeen year old skunk like all my classmates,and wasstopped by an officer, who inquired into my health. When he smelled alcohol, he laughed,and told me to go straight home, which I did. That cop, I liked. In those days, when America was still on its post war drinking binge, we laughed at drunkenness, while driving, or afoot. Then came mad mothers, and the fun was over. When I was twenty three, with a fresh bachelor's degree and no plans, I decided to "audition" for a job s a police officer. At the end of the day of training and testing, an officer interviewed me and tried to talk me out of it, at which he succceeded. There's no money in it, you have a good education, and so forth. One look at my long hair and Rolling Stones T shirt and he knew I wasn't the cop type. On another occasion, when I broke up a fight between two mentally clallenged teenagers, the police arrived too late,took the credit, and admonished me I should have been able to handle the situation myself. Well, whatever. When the "Bobbies" in London strapped on guns for the first time a few decades ago, I knew that the British empire had crumbled. Policing came to teh land of freedom in the eighteen thirties, through sheer necessity. Previously, Philapelphians had been on their own in the city of brotherly quakerly love. My ost recent incident occurred a couple of years ago when a police officer parked his car in my driveway, and handed me a court order prohibiting me from ever again entering a local "Dollar Genaral" store. Suspicion of shoplifting, I reckon. Well, whatever the hell. Nowadays my only contact in my small town quiet consists of the one and only town cop driving past my house a couple of times a day. I don't think he smells any marijuana smoke although he could. Its just that he has nothing better to do, and gas to burn. Doing his rounds,like Marshall Dillon. With each passing day I despise "I.C.E." more, for the following reasons: They are Trump's Gestapo, they rough people up, they help deport good law abiding American citizens, and they really have little or nothing to do with "customs enforcement." May I.C.E. melt into the gutter, and drain into the sewer of the history of ignominy. But I'll give'em this" when yo really need one, they come inmighty handy. I consider them heroes, despite my misgivings. I never,when in the presence of a police officer, fail to thank the lady or gentleman for all that they do. Some of them say thank you, some don't. It is the ones who do not who ruin it all for me.

Coming To Terms With Trump (And Politics)

NOT LONG AGO I encountered, on Facebook of course, an old friend of mine from high school. I had not heard from him since high school, fifty two years ago. I saw his name, sent a friend request, he accepted, and soon messaged me first, which flattered me. "Long time", he said. I agreed, and we chatted a bit. I assured him that I had lived what I thought was a productive life, happily teaching at several educational levels. He didn't need to tell me about his career trajectory. I had followed him all the way, keeping track. He was our star high school quarterback. He want on to play college ball on scholarship, then spent some time in the NFL. I related to him that among the most nerve racking moments of my life had come from watching him play professional football on television. I had never rooted so hard for anybody in my life. His NFL career was short lived, as most of hem are. After retiring from playing, he had gone on to a successful coaching football at both the small college and high school level. Like myself, he is now fully retired, with a nice family, complete with grand children. Laughingly we recalled our high school days together. We used to load up his car with beer, and have at it. One time, as seventeen year olds, we came staggering out of a local bar togethr, bragging about how much beer we had consumed. I was proud to have downed seven bottle of Budweiser at the high school level; he laid claim to twenty, and chided me for being a light weight. We got into a fake fist fight, arguing over beer. He is six three two twenty, andI , poor I, a mere five six one forty five at the time, though I've put on a "few" pounds over the years. We choreographed the fight to make it look like I was kicking his ass, laughing the entire time. I swear that I heard one of the old drunks, who had come out of the bar to see what kind of trouble the two teenagers were getting into, say: "Hell, I told you that that short little son of a bitch is a real bad ass!" After our encounter on Facebook, which was only a quick "howdy", I went right back to my primary Facebook raison d'eter, hammering Trump. I post nothing about Trump. I merely share and add comments to others who slam the bastard. I noticed that my quarterback friend went silent. I began to suspect that he is a Trumper, had seen one or more of my slanderous remarks, and, disapproving of me, had decided to shun rather than directly excoriate me. This, of course, was and probaly is all only in my head, but I still don't know. A mutual friend, a fellow anti-Trumper, assured me that his own hateul comments about Trump had not incited any mallce, which gave me a bit of reassurance. And that made me think this: politics is unimportant, friendship is not. Its just that simple. When Jesus told the questioner to "render unto Caesar" he meant, I think,this: Why bother? Why bother to even consider inciting a revolution against the Romans over payment of taxes? He needs the money nmore than you,or he woudn't demand it. Its my favorite part of the Bible,that, and the story about the prostitute being spared from stoning. Friendship is more important than politics. If you don't pay taxes to Caesar, you will pay them to somebody else. If Trump ever leaves, you'll have to deal with somebody else, somebody whose actions and policies of which you may or may not approve. My father told me to never lose a friend over ten dollars. I tell you, and I tell myself: never lose a friend over politics. I intend to keep my quality quarterback friend,Trump or no Trump, for as Casey Stengal said to his sobbing grand daughter after the seventh game of the 1960 World Series: "Its just another ball game, baby."

Trump, Lying, Bigly

JUST THE OTHER DAY the chronically confused president stated that his MRI had turned out well, hugely well, better than that of any other president, including George Washington. He later identified rising sea levels as being beneficial to everyone, because it provided ocean front property. As Casey Stengel used to say : "You could look it up." Yes, he really siad these things, and no, you can't make this stuff up. Behold our blathering chief executive, in rare form. Or actually, on a normal day. One might recall similar remarks previouly, concering windmill cancer and such. In preciescientific terms, this phenomena is known as "talking without thinking first because you are such a pathological narcissist that you assume that no matter what you say, its true, simply because you said it", or something like that. Of course, its not the inanities that are troublesome. They are highly entertaining, if only in a tragic sort of way. Its the lies. During his first term Trump told an average of twenty two point five lies per day, verified. Jeff Bezos, who hates Trump, printed them all, I understand, on the back page of the Washington Post, one lie ata time, in hiw Washington post newspaper. Pity that they won't be in print forever, as paper crumbles into dust. Their salvation will forever be the internet. I fully intend to google the question" "how many lies has Trump told during his second term so far, and what is the daily average?, but I haven't gotten to it just yet, as I await more information samples. I'm guessing that its donw somewhat; the great prevaricator seems to have toned it down a bit, perhaps on account of being reminded that people are actually listening and keeping track. As always, he most alarming aspect of all this is the manner in which his sult followers react to it. As if all that Trump says is true, gospel, by virtue only of his having said it, like some messiah, come to deliver all mankind from the rigorous rule of reality. To thepoint: of all these blatant lies, repugnant to all good citizens, accepted only by his most loyal disciples, there stands one alone, looming above all the others, casting its long dark shadow across the endless landscape of lies, taunting us eternally, and you precisely which one it is. the big election lie, the lie of alllies, the lies nearly as cruel and egregious as the one Jesus told when he assured his disciplesthat he wouel return to them within their lifetimes. We belabor thepoint each time we mention it, but remember it we must. Hisotry doesn't repeat itself, but it rhymes, and the rythem must at some point be broken, lest we sink beneath an avalanche of misinformation, as we currently are. The final fact about Trump's big election lie is this: the moment on that fateful night in November twenty twenty when Trump spoke his traitorous lie,every peron, placenadthing on the planet who heard knewinstantly that it was a lie, no exceptions. Nobody beieved what he said, including those who still claim that they do. Two weeks previously he had told his daugher what he intended to do, and he did it. "No matter what happens in this election, we'll just say that we won. Fuck it." ANd at that precise moment, the crucial moment, all of us had a choice to make: whether to embrace it and jump onboard the train to national destruction, or to call a lie a lie,and to take ars against a sea of iniquity, to paraphrase Shakespeare. Ther could be no hesitation.Our choice would be immediate, and binding. Whatever we chose, we would hae to live with. The moral implications alone were and remain prodigious. And we all made our choice, and we all must live with the choice we made...

Killing and Caring For Cats

EVERY YEAR in the U.S. more than a million and a half cats are murdered by the American people. That amounts to more than three thousand every day. Our so called "humane shelters" are badly named. More often they are death chambers, with the tacit but seemingly full approval of a majority of the American people. The word "murder" is rarely if ever applied to this situation, but is in fact quite accurate. We prefer the gentler, more palatable less guilt ridden term "euthanasia", or "putting them down". or putting themm to sleep", to conceal our self loathing and appropriately placed guilt. And make no mistake; we the Amerian people are directly responsible for this, by allowing it. But we needn't mince words. Murder is precisely what it is. I seem to have been misinformed. I had been given to believe that here in our loving and compassionate United States of Amnesia we had abandoned our barbaric brutality, had stopped pretending that we our a kind, compassionate culture, and pretending that, well, really, we are doing everyone a great service, including the milllions of ruthlessly murdered cats. I was wrong. We have not abandoned our murderous ways.. Some of the stray cats in my town,many of whom I feed, show up in my yard with a clipped left ear, the truncated triangle signifying that the cat has been spayed or neutered, vaccinated, and set loose in the community to make do as best it can. And indeed this practice has gained some degree of popularity. And yet, the feline genocidal extermination continues. Still we clip ears and set free too seldom, and kill too often. Don't they deserve a chance? I had mistakenly assued that animal "shelters" are tending to reform themselves to a "no kill" policy. Indeed, many have, but not all. These decisions are made, so I am told, at the local level. The fascist dictator who tragically governs our country has the power to issue an executive order prohibiting this slaughter, but doubtless has never given it a thought. And, even so, supposing that no federal court would step in and rule the order unconstitutional, the curret Supreme Court, riddled with Republican reprobates, most likely would, and the death ray would be turned back on. I don't even know how most of the unwanted, unloved cats are killed, by poisonous gas, presuably. In New Zealand the government has decided to elimate all stray and feral cats by the science fictiony sounding year of twenty fifty. There are surely millions of them, and the destruction to other species these best of all hunters on the planet cause in indisputable. Billions of dead birds, mass extinctions of mice and rats, and so forth. A picture appeared on Facebook, of a flatbed truck loaded with the corpses of cats,piled high, like dead rats in medieval bubonic Europe. Cats, of course, evolved in north Africa, and have become an "invasive species" in every corner of every continent on Earth, excepting Antarctica. And now, for some facts. Invasive species are neither now nor necessarily a bad thing, and the phenomenon occurs almost exclusively due to human activity. For thousands of years people, birds, and animals have been carrying seeds and eggs all over the planet. Arguably, what we call "invasive species" are nothing other than the inevitable result of the movement of animals, blowing in the wind, as it were. The salient fact in that we do not have a cat problem in america, nor anywhere else. What we have, dear reader, is a human being problem. New Zealand, in terms of habitat, would be far better off had the human plague not invaded the island. Much the same an be said of every land mass on Earth. As Bertolt Brect wrote in a poem: "they are strangely stinking animals, but, no matter, so am I." It is we who are the invasive species.

Playing For Pay

LANE KIFFIN recently signed a contract worth ninety million dollars to coach the football team at LSU. The university also promised him twenty five million dollars "N.I.L." money to be distributed among his players. These days, when you offer an athletic scholarship to a college student, it comes with money. College athletics are now free lance small business owners, marketing themselves. Having granted athletes release from their hundred year old tradition of essential bondage, no longer free labor, athletes are now being given a cut of the money that universities would never have accessed without it. That all athletes be allowed to profit from their own name, image, and likeness seem fundamental, a "no brainer" as we like to say, and long, long overdue. Pity the poor player who completed his or her collegiate athletic career immediately before the advent of paid professional college athletics. Sometimes you miss out for being late. They missed out for being early. College athletes have always been paid. Suddenly, a few years ago, it becae legal, then accepted,and now, mandatory. Any major university refusing to pay its athletes risks being left behind, without any revenue generating athletic department at all. At long last, but almost predictably, the purity of amateur athletics has been supplanted by the relentless forces of the freemarket, powered by human greed. Hence, your average high school super star quarterback can be a millionaire before he enters his or her first ever college clssroom. The university I attended and later taught is begging the public for handouts, looking for donors, knocking hopefully on the doors of millionaires and billionaires. So is every other university in America with a football program which generats tens of millions of dollars for the institution. A few years ago, after a particularly successful school year athletically, the same university donated one million dollars to the university library. One of my former students, a basketball star who later enjoyed a long and successful career in the NBA, told me that he is happy to have an athletic scholarship, room, board, books, and tuition paid for by the university, grateful for the opportunity he was being given to hone his basketball skills while getting a "free" education, but that, in all honesty, he wished he had a little spending money in his pocket. He told me that he had thirteen dollars to his name, and that he would have to make it last for the rest of the week. This was on a Monday. He said he was expecting a check from home, his weekly allowance, and was lucky to have such loving, supportive parents. I handed a twenty, and told him that there was more where that came from. I also reminded him to be patient, to wait a year or two, and the money would come. It eventually did, to the tune of tens of millions of dollars. I thought I was getting a baragin. He was a good student, came to class, gave me great joy by using his basketball skills to entertain me and help my beloved team win. I helpd him a few more times. We joked that I wasn't paying him to play basketball I was paying him to come to class. A few years later, he sent me a ckeck for one thousand dollars, with a note explaining that this was no handout from a suddenly wealthy professional athlete to a tired poor old professor. It was a token of his appreciation, because he had graduated, and planned to use his degree to pursue a career in sports business management upon retiring from playing. Funny, now, the thought of college athletes needing handouts from their professors. Nobody is happy with the N.I.L. system. Nobody should be. From one extreme to another, like a convulsion, as, we often to do in our great American funhouse. As we like to say: whatever works.

Meeting In the Middle

RECENT STUDIES provide insights into people's political proclivities, based on educational level. It turns out that the better educated people are generally, the greater the likelihood that they will end up leaning left. "Education" here means formal education. Author Gore Vidal, for instance, never attended college, but educated himself and became a first rate author and historical scholar. For the rest of us, good lluck with that. Folks who never attended school, an increasing rarity in the United States, seem to often have no discernable political opinions, little or no interest in politics. High school dropout in the United States tend, by a large margin, towards conservatism. High school graduates as a rule are somewhat more progressive, and people with some college under their belts more progressive still. College graduates are, by a large majority, progressive, and people with advanced graduate degrees are almost uniformly liberal, which, as one might recall, is what progressives used to be called, before the word "liberal" was turned into a dirty word by conservatives, just as conservatives managed to to sully words like "socialism" and "atheist". The better educated folks are, in a formal sense, the more likely they are to be liberals. Granted, there are many well educated right wingers, and many highly intelligent well educated people without a formal education. Generalities, however, are often indicative, and instructive. The definition of a conservative is a person who embraces the status quo, and wishes to retain it. Conserve, retain. A liberal, or progressive, whichever, tends to advocate change, being dissatisfied with the world as it is. Tradition, versus innovation. Change is not always progress, but progress is always change. It isn'tso much that conservatives summarily reject any and all social change. Its just that they want to approach the inevitability of change with a deliberate, slower, more cautious approach. As my conservative father admonished me: Precipitous action is always unwise. Maybe its more fun and exciting, but...risky. A wise philosopher and good friend of mine defined a gambler as anybody who gets out of bed in the morning. Regarding the current and maddeningly lingering, much discussed national political division in the land of freedom, there is no shortage of opinions concerning its causes and possible solutions. Its not that we want every American to be on teh same page in every possible aay on every issue, its jsut that we would likely benefit from an intentional, concerted, concious effort not to eliminate it, or to eliminate all disagreements among ourselves and to seek uniformity of opinion across teh board, but rather, to at least allow us to live in peace, with some degree of harmony, not only in the same universe, but on the same planet, in the same country. This would not appear to be too much to ask. Maybe we should all remind ourselves that there are no political purebreeds. Witin every human heart and mind, if you dig deep enough, you will find elements of both liberal and conservative thought and opinion. All human beings embody all human characteristics, to one degree or another. It wouldn't hurt any of us to open our minds a little, and at least try to see the world as others do, especially others with whom we disagree. Maybe we could all move, just a little, towards the center. We can alsways stop moving if and when it becomes painful. As for me, I'm still willing to give Trump a chance, but if I ever find myself advocating, say, deporting every undocumented dark skinned immigrant from the country, which would devastate our agriculture industry, I hope I will recognize that I have gone far too far towards the center.

Making Trump Irrelevant

THE LATEST POLL has it at sixty percent disapproval and thirty six approval for Trump, his worst yet, as his popularity continues to decline. his administration is finding it increasingly difficult to implement its agenda, as forces align against him, including the federal judiciary and the opinions of the American people. There has always been a strong and loosely organized resistance to Trump, resistance movement which is stronger now than at any time previously. The momentum is in the direction of overwhelming the Trump movement with such an outpouring of contempt and rejection that it loses all hope of fullly implementing its arguably malign agenda, by virtue of overwhelming the public's opposition to it. Most of the time public opinion means little or nothing to, for instance, Congress, which passes legislation which a majority of the American people dislike, and even more frequently fails to pass legisalation strongly desired by the American people, almost in the same manner as the colonial rulers in London did to the American colonies, a factor which led to the revolution for American independence. Two hundred years ago Congressman David Crockett of Tennessee, a member of that first generation of Americans born independent of foreign rule, remarked that in his opinion, Congress ought to at least occasionally legislate for the poor. A fine idea, seemingly. Since it seldom if ever sems to do this, we the people are largely left withotu representation of any sort, and are left with our only true political power, that of mass public opinion. It is a wellknown fact that the poor greatly outnumber the wealthy, and that they therefore have the potential to govern themselves. But, as Thoas Jefferson adroitly pointed out, chances are, no matter who you are, if you truly want to be free in the is world of huan subjugation of humans, you will probably, at one time or another, be forced to fight for it. In his words, "The tree of liberty will from time to time, require the nourishment of the blood of patriots and tyrants". No argument there. In our modernrn world oscomputers and sicialmedia, the potential for masspublic opinion to exert influence on the prevailing political system and establishment has never been greater. But, its only potential, The best possible result, considering current circumstances, is that for the next three years the Trump administration is thoroughly hobbled in attempting to implement its agenda by a constant onslaught of public opinion against it, that Trump leaves office having implemented essentially none of it. Policies such as deporting millions of people, bombing and killing boat people for suspicion of dealing drugs, invading our cities with the military, ignoring our current inflationary economic distress by meddling in foreign affairs, and all the rest. If we the sixty percent, the vast majority of American who diespise Trump and his leadership because we acknowledge that he is a criminal and a very stupid man, are willing to keep up the outpouring of expressions of resistance to Trump's leadership, we can, if not bring a premature end to the MAGA movement, a least render it utterlly and totally impotent, a lame duck president supported by a dwindling, shrinking minority of cultists, lame duck, dying flash of fascism in a nation searching for answers. Trump's cult will continue to shrink, as people jump a sinking ship. Approval ratings can sink to extreme lows, as Lincoln and Truman found out. Trump can be reduced to inactive irrelevancy if the sixty percent keeps growing, as it seems destined to do. And its the best we can hope for for Trump.