Posted on by Fred

Approaching Gilead

Better is never better for everyone.  It always means worse, for some.

–Commander Waterford in “Faithful,” from The Handmaid’s Tale, Season 1, Episode 5, and from the novel by Margaret Atwood.  Episode written by Dorothy Fortenberry

There’s much to unpack in that line, and I am not sure whether I believe it.  I’m trying to think of something in which better would be better for everyone.  We Idealists spend lots of time trying to imagine a world that is better for everyone.  I like to think that ending homelessness, hunger, and poverty would be better for everyone.  I suppose a case could be made that for those currently in power, it would be worse.  They would have less money somehow, but I’m not entirely sure how.  They would certainly lose much of the power they have now.  It would make it more difficult for them to tell the rest of us what to do all the time.  We would no longer be their wage slaves, forced to choose between working for them or facing those conditions.  I suppose in the short term it would be worse, but we would inevitably reduce crime by lessening desperation, and people would generally be less angry.  The wealthy would be safer.

Equality and Equity may not seem to be better for everyone.  Those at the top feel like they would be forfeiting their superiority.  I’m not convinced they are superior to the rest of us, but they certainly have the power to force many of us into positions we would rather not occupy.  Equality and Equity would reduce that power.  Justice usually accompanies these two, but I’m reluctant to decide what justice is in most cases.

Perhaps it’s the lust for power that separates those who have so much of it from those who have so little.  I, for example, have little interest in telling anyone else what to do with their lives.  I should like for them to pursue what interests them.  I would like them to be free to explore the world, the ideas that have helped to get us to the place that we have enough for everyone, their own ideas, and their own identities. 

I understand, then, I suppose, why some people are opposed to my Idealistic World.  It will mean less for a few and more for many.  Since the few have the power, they’re not likely to accept any such arrangement. 

The purpose, however, of our Democratic Republic is to give power to the many.  It is intended to rescue us from the power of the few.  We evicted a King in favor of having a President who would be elected by the majority of us.  And there are people now who would like very much to change that.

“​Now I’m awake to the world. I was asleep before. That’s how we let it happen. When they slaughtered Congress, we didn’t wake up. When they blamed terrorists and suspended the constitution, we didn’t wake up then, either. Nothing changes instantaneously. In a gradually heating bathtub, you’d be boiled to death before you knew it.”

― Margaret Atwood

This is, of course, fiction… for the moment.  One of the horrifying aspects of The Handmaid’s Tale is its close resemblance to the world we already inhabit.  Margaret Atwood, and the producers of the show, have shown us a dystopian nightmare that quite nearly began on January 6, 2021.  Had that insurrection been successful there’s little room for doubt that those who seized power would have enacted laws similar to those in Gilead.  They have already stripped bodily autonomy from half the population.  They would like to tell us who can marry whom, now.  They have corrupted Christianity, which was never the law of the land in America, to be a weapon of hatred instead of a religion of love.  They declare homosexuality an abomination.  They are working to keep those who choose to explore other genders than those of their physical bodies as far from society as possible.  Rapists are seldom punished.  There are always questions about what the woman did to deserve what happened to her.  The answer, by the way, is nothing.  There’s nothing a person can possibly do that makes them deserve to be raped.

Right now, in America they are banning books.  Reading is illegal in Gilead.  The offense was originally punishable by the loss of a hand.  In their kindness, those in power reduced the penalty to a finger.  One can work more efficiently with the loss of a single finger than the loss of an entire hand, after all.  And a Commander’s Wife loses her finger for reading The Bible.  Fascists frequently turn on their own.  Ask Mike Pence.

While we are certainly perilously close to becoming Gilead, it’s vital that we realize we’re not there yet.  I’m not, in any way, minimizing the danger we are facing.  One of my friends, however, was shocked when I said we’re not there yet.  She’s sure we are.  Interestingly, she made this comment on Facebook, in response to one I made that she must have… read.  She used either her phone or her computer.  I assume she still has all her fingers.  In America, in September of 2022, she wasn’t breaking a law.  Had Offred (or June, which is her real name) made such a comment, the consequences of her words would have been swift and merciless.  We’re not Gilead… yet.

A case could be made that I ought to be careful about what I wish for.  (Yes, I ended a sentence in a preposition.  My late father is hovering over my shoulder telling me to take the corn cob out of my butt.). Gilead, after all, has no homelessness, poverty, or hunger.  Neither do prisons.  If one is willing to sacrifice freedom, some of the challenges in life can be eliminated.  We can simply discard the poor.  They can be executed and used for animal feed in Gilead.  Jonathan Swift suggested serving them as a delicacy at the tables of the wealthy in the 18th century… except he was kidding, at least as much as someone with an 18th century corn cob up his butt could kid. 

Among the reasons people can be convinced that Gilead is a good idea is that it removes our need to find out, for ourselves, who we are.  My father told me once that George Bernard Shaw said, “Most men would rather dig a ditch than think a thought.”  I assumed he was right.  I was accustomed to Dad always being right.  For the life of me, though, I can’t find that quote anywhere, and I’ve read my share of Shaw and done my due diligence Google searches.  So, if it wasn’t Shaw, maybe it is best attributed to Dad.  Whomever said, there’s more than a little truth in it.  

Introspection is difficult.  It is frightening.  When we begin to consider all the sorts of people we could be, it’s not unlike losing ourselves in the stars when we stare too long at the night sky.  I’ve actually become uncomfortably dizzy while stargazing.    While many of us find this exhilarating, there are plenty of us who prefer to keep our feet firmly planted on terra firma.  We cling tightly to the old and familiar.  Questions are frightening.  If something seems to be working for us, we don’t want to change it.

I used to get fucked behind a dumpster just so I could buy a sixth of Oxy and a Happy Meal. I’m clean now. I’ve got a safe place to sleep every night and I have people who are nice to me.

— Ofglen in The Handmaid’s Tale Season 1, Episode 5, “Faithful”

Fascist authoritarian dictatorships have their value, too.  I will, however, die before endorsing one.  Freedom has to exist before anything of value can be accomplished. 

The question now is how to save us from the Gilead we are about to become.  The first step needs to be to protect what freedom we still have.  As of September, 2022, we can still vote.  That fundamental right is under attack all over the country.  We need to keep those who threaten that right out of office.  I know it’s easy to be cynical and tell me that all politicians are corrupt, and voting is useless.  I won’t subscribe to that interpretation of our world.  It takes away the only weapon we have in this fight.  It’s tempting to endorse violence, but violence means killing, and killing makes us into what we oppose.  I won’t advocate that. 

We need to open our minds to more than one idea.  We need to consider things we haven’t before.  That doesn’t mean we have to accept them.  I won’t accept Gilead, but I will try to understand how our world might become that way so I can try to keep it from happening.  The only tool I have is my words.  My body is worthless.  My influence is less than insignificant.  I realize that.  And I will keep trying anyway because to do otherwise is to surrender. 

Dad also told me that Albert Camus said, “To believe you can change the world is insanity; failure to try is cowardice,” but I’ve never been able to find that line, either.  I think Dad just didn’t want to take credit for his best lines, so he pretended someone else said them realizing that, since Google wasn’t a thing yet, I would probably never know.  I don’t believe for a moment I can change the world.  I will always continue to try.  I’m secretly hoping you can do it. 

I joined the Patreon of one of my heroes, David Gerrold, last month.  It cost more than I can possibly afford, but I wanted to make an investment in myself and in this show.  I may eat more ramen for a while, but I hope to be a better writer.  One of our assignments was to describe our Ideal Audience.  You’re probably in these words.

My Ideal Audience

My great writer’s dream is that an up-and-coming politician, uncorrupted by the influence of lobbyists, corporations, or PACs, reads my work or listens to my show and decides to pass laws that help that unrepresented majority of us who hope only to make it to our next paycheck.  They change the world.  Everyone has a place to live.  Everyone has all the medical care they require.  Education is free for everyone forever.  Food is considered a human right and not a luxury for the chosen few.  I don’t know this reader or listener’s name, or gender, or age, or sexuality, or ethnic background, and I couldn’t possibly care less.  They’re my Ideal Audience.

I find that my actual audience is made up of kind and caring people who respond favorably to my Idealism.  They are compassionate.  They are empathetic.  Some of them have both of those qualities.  A few of them have a few extra dollars a month they contribute to my Patreon every month so I can make it to next month.  That’s probably more times that I’ve said month than I’ve said in the last… month.  Most of them are older people.  I’m unaware of any children who listen to my work, and it’s not written for them.  I taught Elementary School for 29 years.  I’ve done my bit for kids.  I’m talking to “gr’ups” now.  A few of them are in their 30s.  They seem to be a diverse group.  I don’t target any particular group.

I have a surprising number of Conservatives supporting my show.  I write with them in mind.  If I can avoid pissing them off, I might be able to get them to rethink some of their ideas.  One of them actually said, on more than one occasion, I’ve given him “something to think about.” 

I write for an audience that is at least as intelligent as I am.  I assume they’re familiar with Shakespeare, the classics, and current popular culture.  If they’re not, Google is readily available. 

Finally, my audience is Seymour’s Fat Lady:

“This terribly clear, clear picture of the Fat Lady formed in my mind.  I had her sitting on this porch all day, swatting flies, with her radio going full-blast from morning till night.  I figured the heat was terrible, and she probably had cancer, and — I don’t know.  Anyway, it seemed goddam clear why Seymour wanted me to shine my shoes when I went on the air.  It made sense.”

J.D. Salinger in Franny and Zooey

I feel a little like one of the underground broadcasters in Harry Potter when Voldemort has taken over.  I’m sending out messages hoping someone will hear them and do what I can’t.  I’m Piglet, sending out his message in a bottle in “Piglet is Entirely Surrounded By Water.”  I’m Josh Lyman in The West Wing yelling at the President that Bartlett needs to listen to him.  Josh was having a nervous breakdown at the time, however, and I try to remain calm.  And interestingly, Bradley Whitford played Josh Lyman in The West Wing, and he plays Commander Lambert in The Handmaid’s Tale.  Elisabeth Moss played Zoey Bartlett in the former show, and stars in the latter.  That makes the show strangely more personal for me.  I was friends with both of them two decades ago, in the way that we all become friends with fictional characters.  That adds to my catharsis.  Connections add to the power of an experience. 

I hope my connection with you is sufficient for you to help in what ways you can.  The midterms are coming.  This is not the time to sit them out.  Even if you are a very small animal like me, you can still vote.  If you don’t do it now, there is a very real possibility you won’t have the right to again.  Gilead is coming for us.  Let’s stop them while we still can.

Posted on by Fred · 2 Comments

Unlocking Our Minds

We go through life with certain truths about which we have no doubt. 

Faith in God is, for many people, unshakeable. 

Italian, Florentine God the Father about 1430-40 Egg tempera on wood, 12.8 x 13.1 cm Presented by Charles Ricketts and Charles Haslewood Shannon through The Art Fund, 1922 NG3627 https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/NG3627

The idea that hard work makes one virtuous is beyond question.  It is a priori true that laziness is a vice, and lazy people deserve nothing. 

We know, in the same way we know the sun will rise in the morning, that all people are either male or female.  Sex and marriage are to be between one man and one woman, and any variation from this idea is unacceptable. 

Money is essential to the operation of the world. 

Changes in these ideas are not to be tolerated.  This is the way the world, perhaps the entire universe, works, and if someone has a problem with it, they are a troublemaker who is to be shunned, ignored, dismissed, and, if need be, arrested.  Sometimes they are even killed.

It is for us to decide what help, if any, is warranted and what punishments are appropriate for those who are different.  Prisons should be places of unspeakable horrors to ensure they provide maximal deterrent to crime. 

There are two political parties in our country, and no others will be taken seriously. 

And what have all these Undeniable Truths produced for us?

At least half of Americans are struggling to make ends meet.  Some studies place it as high as 70% of us.  These are two links I found quickly on Google.  There are plenty of others that will give you similar numbers. 

https://www.adeccogroup.com/future-of-work/latest-insights/70-percent/

You’re Not Alone: 52% of Americans are Fighting to Make Ends Meet

Our economy is usually measured by how well Wall Street is doing.  The problem is that many of us own no stock at all.  It’s out of the question for most of us because we’re trying to pay rent and eat.  Investing in the Stock Market is, at best, risky.  It can be disastrous.  When the Stock Market crashed in 1929, the myth is that investors were leaping off tall buildings.  That isn’t, evidently, true.  On the other hand…

Behind 1929’s building-jumping myth, however, may be the larger truth that the onset of the Great Depression did correlate to an increase in suicides.  Based on statistics reported by Galbraith in The Great Crash 1929, the suicide rate in the United States increased from 17.0 per 100,000 people in 1929 to 21.3 in 1932 during the worst of the financial calamity.  The pattern was much the same in New York… 

People may not have been leaping off buildings by the dozens, but during the final months of 1929, American newspapers reported terrible incidents involving those who lost nearly everything in the Crash.  The day after Black Thursday, Chicago real estate investor C. Fred Stewart asphyxiated himself with gas in his kitchen.  When the market took an even further dive on Black Tuesday, John Schwitzgebel shot himself to death inside a Kansas City club.  The stock pages of the newspaper were found covering his body.

https://www.history.com/news/stock-market-crash-suicides-wall-street-1929-great-depression#:~:text=Based%20on%20statistics%20reported%20by,the%20same%20in%20New%20York.

While investing in the Stock Market can be profitable if one is both smart enough and lucky enough to make it work, most of us aren’t, and even those who are good at it can be destroyed by it. 

A better measurement of how well the economy is doing might be found in how many people are struggling.  Those statistics are above.  The economy consists of more than the wealthy.  Most of us are not wealthy.

So, our Eternal Truths haven’t done much for simply surviving.  Money is a blessing for those who have it, a curse for those who don’t, and it can turn from blessing to curse in a single day.  This, however, is the way the world must operate, isn’t it?  No other ideas are allowed.

Our faith in whatever God (or lack thereof) we have chosen is supreme.  We learn what is right and what is wrong from that faith, and there can be no doubt we are right because we’ve been taught that to doubt our beliefs is a sin.  And, without doubt, ours is the correct faith, regardless of how many others there may be.

Anthropologists estimate that at least 18,000 different gods, goddesses, and various animals or objects have been worshipped by humans since our species first appeared.  Today, it is estimated that more than 80 percent of the global population considers themselves religious or spiritual in some form.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/your-brain-food/202107/why-do-humans-keep-inventing-gods-worship#:~:text=Anthropologists%20estimate%20that%20at%20least,or%20spiritual%20in%20some%20form.

It’s extraordinary that we’ve beaten the odds so completely.  There are roughly 50 people listening to this podcast.  I’m willing to bet here on The Front Porch we have at least 5 different forms of Gods.  For me, it isn’t a problem that someone has beliefs that differ from mine.  The problem comes when those beliefs cause them to hate someone else.  Jesus was pretty clear about hatred, and since his is the most prominent view among those who are not me, let’s see what he says in Luke: 27 – 36

27 But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you,

28 Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.

29 And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also.

30 Give to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again.

31 And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.

32 For if ye love them which love you, what thank have ye? for sinners also love those that love them.

33 And if ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have ye? for sinners also do even the same.

34 And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again.

35 But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil.

36 Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.

One of The People on The Porch, who I believe considers himself a Christian said, “You don’t have to work.  If you choose not to work, I choose not to support you.”  That doesn’t seem to fit well with what the leader of that religion preaches.  To review, Luke 30 says to give to anyone who asks.  It says not to ask for anything in return. 

The retort, of course, comes from Thessalonians.  To be clear that’s not Jesus.  “Paul, and Silvanus, and Timotheus, unto the church of the Thessalonians in God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Those are the people handing out advice in this book of the Bible.  And what do they say?

 10For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat. 

The Bible can contradict itself.  Jesus says to avoid hating, and Paul and his friends are up for letting people starve. 

Take what is useful to you in your religious beliefs, and allow yourself a few other possibilities.  Let’s recognize there are any number of reasons people aren’t doing what you call work.  Or shall we continue to say, “This, however, is the way the world must operate, isn’t it?  No other ideas are allowed.”

Religious faith is often cited as the reason for intolerance.  A Facebook friend of mine posted the other day, ““I identify as” is synonymous with “I pretend to be.””  I’m told by another friend that pretending doesn’t change the facts.  In both cases, this is said with contempt for people who are trying to understand themselves in a different way.

Who comes out ahead when we limit people’s abilities to find their own identities?  Socrates and several other Ancient Greeks told you to “know thyself.”  That was at least 2,400 years ago.  It’s not a new thing.  Again, however, we’ve decided people may do that, so long as they stay within tightly defined parameters.  I’m heterosexual and quite comfortable being male.  That’s nice for me.  I know people to whom this doesn’t apply.  You probably do, too.  Why can’t they try to become whatever it is they feel they need to be?  How does it hurt me that someone I love very much was declared to be a female at birth, but sometime afterward discovered they were more comfortable being male?  Why do I care what they have in their pants unless I’m in a sexual relationship with them?  How does their quest for meaning in their lives hurt me?  Why should I feel the need to ridicule them for trying to find that meaning? 

If your answer is that God made them a particular gender, my response is that God also made them a person who was not comfortable as that gender.  God made them someone who wanted something different.  If one is true, the other is, too. 

My feeling is that the universe is unimaginably diverse.  It is filled with wonders and terrors beyond our most startling and beautiful dreams.  Humanity is the Universe’s Effort to understand itself.  To gain the most complete understanding, it must see itself from the greatest possible number of perspectives.  To my knowledge, humans are the only form of life in the universe capable of understanding at all.  There is a mathematical likelihood of there being other intelligent life in the universe, but we haven’t met them yet.  Douglas Adams would tell you that dolphins have a unique perspective that may be of some use to the Universe.  I suspect that dogs, cats, snakes, spiders, and maybe even bacteria all have their own ideas about the nature of the universe, but I can’t prove that.  I’m in favor of encouraging as many perspectives as possible.  I’m mostly in favor of allowing people to live their lives in the ways they choose so long as they’re not hurting anyone else.  I’ve only said that about a billion times over the course of this show. 

Or do we need to decide, again, that this is the way the world must operate and no other ideas are to be allowed?  That’s an incredibly limiting way of seeing things, don’t you think?

We’ve taken it upon ourselves to decide who deserves what.  I find that frighteningly arrogant.  I think everyone – and that means all human beings, whether you or I like them or not – everyone deserves to live as well as possible.  I don’t believe only some people deserve a place to sleep tonight.  I don’t believe only some people deserve to eat.  I don’t believe there are people who deserve the horrible atrocities they are forced to endure.  I’m more interested in rehabilitation than I am in punishment.  The worst people in the world became who they are because of the experiences they had.  I don’t have to like them, or what they did, to recognize it’s better for them, and it’s better for the rest of us, to help them become people who find meaningful lives in which they can live in the way they choose, without hurting anyone else. 

Let’s stop despising differences.  Let’s learn to celebrate them.  Your way of viewing the world is different from mine, and I respect that.  I would like us all to respect that others think differently than we do, and that they’re allowed to think that way.  You’re allowed to despise diversity, and I will accept that.  I only ask that you not ridicule others who are different.  I ask that you allow them to live their lives and find their own meanings, as I do for you.  Yes, we disagree.  No, I don’t want you to have less because of that.  I don’t want you to be punished in any conceivable way for that.  I will hope to get you to unlock the treasure chest of your mind to see the world just a little bit differently than you did before we started.  If I can do that, you’re in a better place, and you’re a kinder person than you were before.  That kindness benefits all the world.  How can you object to that? The universe is filled with endless variation.  My favorite Vulcan once commented on that: “Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.”  The Vulcans even have a lovely emblem for that.  The idea is the basis of their philosophy. 

Infinite Diversity exists whether we like it or not.  Look at the pictures we saw a few weeks ago that show us a portion of the Universe the size of a grain of sand.  They illustrate how vast the Cosmos is.  The Diversity is mind boggling. 

Let’s embrace the fact that more than one way of life is possible.  Let’s celebrate the differences in ourselves and in each other that add so many more hues to the palette we are all using together to paint our Intergalactic Self Portrait.   

And, yes, like Billy Joel, “I love you just the way you are.”

Posted on by Fred

On The Other Hand…

There is an innumerable quantity of reasons to be upset about the world.  Freedom is under attack.  Democracy nearly ended a year and a half ago.  Rents are spiraling out of control.  The world is perilously close to nuclear war.  If you’re upset, I promise I understand. 

Each of us has our own set of problems about which to be upset.  I walk the diabetes tightrope every single day.  My depression is a threat to my very existence.  I will never be loved romantically again.  My dog still tries to eat my furniture.  You surely have your own, some of which are probably worse than mine. 

I won’t pretend there are no reasons to be sad. 

On the other hand…

“It’s very important to remember that there are good people in the world who are doing good, in lots of ways.  Goodness exists, even when it can’t be seen.  So do beauty, and love, and the light of faraway stars.  The good will show itself in time.”

— Nanea Hoffman

Somewhere on this little planet in one of the billions, or perhaps, trillions of galaxies that make up our universe, at this very moment… right… now… a baby is being born.  It’s taking its first breath.  All of the world, in all of its beauty and wonder, is beginning in front of this new life. 

A few minutes ago, a child heard Mozart for the very first time, and she experienced a joy that will make her into an Artist.  She’s learning about the miracles human beings can create simply with our minds and our hands.  Some time in the not-too-distant future she will create something of lasting beauty that will change someone else’s life. 

“No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible.” 

            — George Chakiris

An hour ago, a boy just got his first real kiss, and he’s reeling in ecstasy, wondering if his lips will always feel so oddly chapped as they do right now, and whether she will text him today.  He’s excited to be alive. 

Yesterday, an old man like me just got a dog that will love him unconditionally for the rest of his life.  He’s cuddling with him right now.  The dog feels a contentment it never experienced before.  It’s warm, safe, dry, and loved. 

“I still believe

In the Goodness

Even when it’s hard to find”

— Sara Niemietz and WG Snuffy Walden

Last week a painter sold her first canvas, and she feels like a real Artist for the first time in her life.  Her dreams seem real, and the flame of her creativity has been ignited.  In less than a year, she’ll be having her first show at The Museum of Fine Arts in Houston.  A hundred years from now people will continue to gaze in awe at her painting. 

In August, a new teacher will step in front of his class for the first time.  His career will span more than 25 years, and children still unborn will remember him for the rest of their lives.  One of his students will grow up and make a difference in ways the teacher never imagined, and it will be because of what the child learned in his class. 

“I see your head
Is hanging low low low
Doing all you can
To keep the spark inside your soul
Wish you could see
You like I do
You’re original
You’re powerful
You’re something new
Can’t wait to see
Just where you go
I do believe
You’re gonna let them know”

–Niemietz – Taylor

A couple of weeks ago, humanity gazed deeper into the universe than we ever have before.  We’re learning more about the beginnings of life as we know it than we ever could have known before.  We’re gaining a deeper understanding of our origins.  By gazing into the past, we are creating a better future.  Thirty years ago Voyager 1 showed us our place in the universe from 4 billion miles away.  Carl Sagan helped us to understand.

Look again at that dot.  That’s here.  That’s home.  That’s us.  On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.  The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there–on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena.  Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.  Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.  Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.  In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life.  There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes.  Settle, not yet.  Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience.  There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.  To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

— Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994

Sometimes, for the preservation of our own mental health, we need to think about the possibilities that life still holds.  Love still exists, even when it’s hard to find.

I believe in The Power of Love.  Love is the only reason I’m still alive.

It is the love of people who know me that has saved my life from the best efforts of my diabetes to kill me on nearly two dozen occasions.

It is Speedy Shine’s love that gives me that gives me the strength to fight the depression that threatens my existence more often than I like to admit.

It is the love of my best friend and her ex-boyfriend that allow me to have a home.  I would survive as a homeless person for less than 48 hours.

It is the love of a friend from so many years ago that allows me to eat well enough to survive.

It is the love of The People on The Porch that gives my life purpose so I can feel that I can make a difference even while I’m not capable of doing anything to earn a living.  Their financial assistance keeps me from complete poverty, and their attention to my work makes me feel that I’m living instead of merely surviving.

It is the love of my Facebook friends that keeps me from feeling entirely alone, even while I do all I can to avoid leaving the house.  They allow me to feel some connection to the rest of the world.  They help me to control my fear of other people.

I believe it is love that will finally save us from losing our freedom.  I believe love is stronger than hate.  I could be wrong.  I remind myself of that several times a day.  But I will hold on to my belief in the power of love until the stars grow cold.

Love is my religion.

My true religion, my simple faith is in love and compassion.  There is no need for complicated philosophy, doctrine, or dogma.  Our own heart, our own mind, is the temple.  The doctrine is compassion.  Love for others and respect for their rights and dignity, no matter who or what they are – these are ultimately all we need.

—  The Dalai Lama

Of course, I’m an atheist, so how can I have a religion?

 A great Rabbi was once asked, “Why did God create atheists?”

The Rabbi said, “Atheists are the most important example for all who believe in God.  When an atheist is moral, and good, and kind, and compassionate, it’s not because he believes God commanded him to be so, nor because he fears any kind of punishment for being bad.  An atheist performs acts of righteousness because he knows it is right to do.  And where is God in this?  If He is in the atheist’s heart, or guiding him, it doesn’t matter.  The atheist helps regardless.  He helps because he believes there is nobody else, no power that can or will act without his own deeds.  So when someone is in need, in our times of crisis, you shouldn’t say, ‘I’ll pray for you, ‘ or, ‘May God help you.’ Rather, in this moment, you should be as an atheist.  Believe there is no God who can help, and say, ‘I will help you.’ In this way the atheist is closest to God, and so must we be as well.”

Captain Kirk taught me, in April 1967, when I was not yet five years old, that the three most important words are not, “I love you.”  The three most important words are, “Let me help.”

Where is the love in your life?  I promise there is some, even if you can’t find it at the moment.  I know mine isn’t what you probably want, but you have it anyway, even though we’ve probably never met and almost certainly never will.  If you’re a human being, I want you to find happiness, meaning, and love in your life.  I want you to have enough to eat, a warm bed in which to sleep, and somewhere to handle your bodily functions in a sanitary way. 

I’m willing to bet you feel the same way about nearly everyone.  On the other hand, I just turned a straight, and the player to my left rivered a full house, so I should probably not be gambling so much right now.  Perhaps you are battling the Hatred that is poisoning your soul, and if that’s the case, I hope you win the fight.  It’s not helping you to feel any better, I promise you.  It’s hurting you.  It’s hurting the object of your Hatred.  No matter how well deserved that hatred is, take a break from it for just a little while.  It will still be there when you’re ready to come back. 

Sometimes we need to lose things in order to learn not only their value, but also their weight.  Loss is a brilliant teacher that way; it can show us what’s important simply by creating space where it once was.”

— Mark Groves

It was 111 degrees here today.  My best friend loaned me the courage to leave the house, and she took me out to lunch.  I put my dog, Speedy Shine in the backyard with two trays full of ice cubes, and lots of water, and I filled all his toys with that cheese spread you get from PetSmart.  I told him I loved him, and I would be back soon.  I was gone for just over two hours, and when I returned, he jumped on me for nearly 5 uninterrupted minutes.  It was as though I had been gone for a year.  And there was an extra jolt of love from both of us.

And even in the middle of the summer, I couldn’t help but remember this Christmas story from what is, in my view, the greatest series ever to appear on television.

“Every year, when I was little, Daddy told me a story about The Great War.  How on Christmas Eve an English soldier started singing “Silent Night,” and from the other side of the trenches, the German soldiers joined in, and then they crossed the enemy lines and vowed not to fight each other the next day.  But the sun rose, and their commanders told them to charge, and they did.  I don’t know why that story makes me feel hopeful.  Maybe it’s that Good Will exists.  Even if it’s small and weak, there’s a chance it may grow up one day.”

— Barbara Hall in “I’ll Fly Away” Season 2, Episode 11, “Comfort and Joy.” 12/11/1992

That’s been with me for just shy of 30 years.  It will be with me until I am no more.  And now it is with you. 

Search for the Goodness.  Seek the Kindness.  I promise you, no matter how dark the skies, there are little lights of love still to be found.

I love you.

Posted on by Fred

The Omelas Problem

In a basement under one of the beautiful public buildings of Omelas, or perhaps in the cellar of one of its spacious private homes, there is a room.  It has one locked door, and no window.  A little light seeps in dustily between cracks in the boards, secondhand from a cobwebbed window somewhere across the cellar. In one corner of the little room a couple of mops, with stiff, clotted, foul-smelling heads, stand near a rusty bucket.  The floor is dirt, a little damp to the touch, as cellar dirt usually is.  The room is about three paces long and two wide: a mere broom closet or disused tool room. In the room, a child is sitting.  It could be a boy or a girl.  It looks about six, but actually is nearly ten. It is feeble-minded.  Perhaps it was born defective, or perhaps it has become imbecile through fear, malnutrition, and neglect.  It picks its nose and occasionally fumbles vaguely with its toes or genitals, as it sits hunched in the corner farthest from the bucket and the two mops.  It is afraid of the mops.  It finds them horrible.  It shuts its eyes, but it knows the mops are still standing there; and the door is locked; and nobody will come.  The door is always locked; and nobody ever comes, except that sometimes–the child has no understanding of time or interval–sometimes the door rattles terribly and opens, and a person, or several people, are there.  One of them may come in and kick the child to make it stand up.  The others never come close, but peer in at it with frightened, disgusted eyes.  The food bowl and the water jug are hastily filled, the door is locked; the eyes disappear.  The people at the door never say anything, but the child, who has not always lived in the tool room, and can remember sunlight and its mother’s voice, sometimes speaks.  “I will be good, ” it says.  “Please let me out.  I will be good!” They never answer.  The child used to scream for help at night, and cry a good deal, but now it only makes a kind of whining, “eh-haa, eh-haa,” and it speaks less and less often.  It is so thin there are no calves to its legs; its belly protrudes; it lives on a half-bowl of corn meal and grease a day.  It is naked.  Its buttocks and thighs are a mass of festered sores, as it sits in its own excrement continually.  They all know it is there, all the people of Omelas.  Some of them have come to see it, others are content merely to know it is there.  They all know that it has to be there. Some of them understand why, and some do not, but they all understand that their happiness, the beauty of their city, the tenderness of their friendships, the health of their children, the wisdom of their scholars, the skill of their makers, even the abundance of their harvest and the kindly weathers of their skies, depend wholly on this child’s abominable misery…

They would like to do something for the child.  But there is nothing they can do.  If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed.  Those are the terms.  To exchange all the goodness and grace of every life in Omelas for that single, small improvement: to throw away the happiness of thousands for the chance of happiness of one: that would be to let guilt within the walls indeed.

This is The Omelas Problem.  Everyone can be happy, but the price is the endless suffering of one child.  She’s makes it clear in the story (and I can’t recommend highly enough that you read it… It’s brilliant!  I’ll drop a link in the transcript.) that there is no other way it can work.  The rules are unchangeable.  This is the foundation on which the problem rests.  You have two options, and two only.  You can stay in Omelas and enjoy the paradise created by the child’s sacrifice, or you can walk away from Omelas and find somewhere less idyllic to live.  In neither case can you affect the child’s fate.  It will continue to suffer no matter what you do.  What is the morally correct choice?

I’m not going to pretend to know.  I would like to think that, as a matter of conscience, I would choose not to live in such a society, but it’s clear that helps the child not at all.  The child’s sacrifice is, in my case, wasted.  I derive no benefit from his suffering.  Others do.  I don’t.  This doesn’t end his suffering.  It doesn’t even mitigate it. 

So, I can see that I might choose to stay.  My conscience would probably hound me endlessly.  My Prosecutor would never stop.  I would hate myself.  The happiness to be gained by his sacrifice is, again, wasted in my case because I can’t be happy knowing the price being paid for my happiness. 

Ms. LeGuin has presented us with an unsolvable moral problem.    Fortunately, we don’t have to solve it because that’s nothing like our world.  Everyone in our world is free, and few of us are happy.  That’s a fair assessment, isn’t it?

I think our moral problem is a bit more nuanced.  We don’t have one child suffering; we have many millions of people suffering.  We don’t have everyone living the idyllic life of Omelas.  We have a few living in their own private paradises. 

While the Rules of Omelas are unchangeable, the rules of our world are not.   Star Trek: Strange New Worlds recently took up this problem, and they had a line I loved: “Let the tree that grows from the roots of sacrifice lift us where suffering cannot reach.”

Our history is replete with both sacrifice and suffering.  They come in nearly infinite varieties, and they affect nearly everyone at some time or other.  We’ve made sufficient sacrifices to grow a tall, broad, powerful tree, but it fails to lift us high enough to avoid the suffering of uncounted homo sapiens. 

We have the resources to end much of the suffering right now.  We have enough to give everyone a home, to feed everybody, to provide power for the whole world, and to provide medical care for all.  We absolutely can do that.  We choose not to. 

The moment I suggest anything of the sort, people will begin shouting, “Yeah, well who’s gonna pay for it??”

And we instantly tumble into the delusion that money is valuable.  We believe nothing can be done without money.  Why do we believe this?  Why is it impossible, even for a moment, to question that idea? 

In the last few weeks, I’ve taken you to a place where you could choose your own Universe, I’ve let you hear from a Time Traveler, and I’ve described the suffering in our world in horrible detail.  Can I get you to travel along this flight of fancy just a little farther? 

Let’s start by recognizing that money, in fact, has no value beyond the value we have assigned to it.  If aliens invade Earth tomorrow afternoon, I promise they won’t come to get our money.  It’s worthless to them.  Our water might well be valuable.  Our oxygen, our cattle, our farms, and even our people might be resources they could use, but money?  No.  They see no practical function for bits of cotton and linen or digits on a computer. 

A bottle of water has more inherent value than a hundred-dollar-bill.  The value of that bit of paper is that it can be traded for lots of bottle of water.  More people believe in the value of money than believe in any form of God.  It is The One World Religion.  It’s more powerful in our world than all the Gods we have ever posited.  I’ve never heard of any church that doesn’t need it.  Have you? 

I’m asking you to do something even more difficult than questioning your religious faith.  I’m asking you to question the value of money. 

Is it possible we could have done all the things we’ve done without money?  I think so.  Why?  Because we did.  Money isn’t supernatural.  It’s an invention of ours.  It wasn’t handed down to us by a God.  It wasn’t the Obelisk from 2001: A Space Odyssey.  It is an invented means of motivation. 

W.C. Fields, I think, (please don’t trust my memory.  It’s faulty at best.) had a great line in a movie once.  He asks a woman if she would sleep with him for a million dollars.  She thinks it over a minute, and finally says she probably would.  He asks her, then, if she would do it for a dollar.  She gets deeply offended and asks him what sort of girl he thinks she is.  He responds that they’ve already established that, and now they’re just haggling about the price. 

If I offer a bear a million dollars not to kill me, it isn’t going to have any response to that.  I will be dinner, or not, based on its whims.  Money is a magic that is effective exclusively on humans. 

When I taught Elementary School I used a token economy.  It was designed to get students to do what I wanted them to do.  If you answered a question in class, you got a ticket.  If you turned in your homework, or you stayed quiet while someone next to you is talking, or you remembered to push in your chair, or you lined up when I asked you to, or you did anything else I wanted you to do, you would earn tickets.  Tickets could be exchanged for property or privileges once a week.  Students worked very hard to get tickets.  I managed to control a population using something that was, in fact, worthless. 

By the end of the year, students would figure out that tickets were stupid, but by now, most of them were doing what I wanted them to do even without them.  The tickets had accomplished their goal. 

Now that I have some space from it, I wonder if I could have accomplished my objectives in other ways.  All of my students were capable of all the things they did.  The Beatles knew this.

There’s nothin’ you can do that can’t be done
Nothin’ you can sing that can’t be sung
Nothin’ you can say, but you can learn how to play the game
It’s easy
Nothin’ you can make that can’t be made
No one you can save that can’t be saved
Nothin’ you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time
It’s easy

All you need is love

  • Songwriters: John Lennon / Paul McCartney

We have enormous amounts of suffering, much of which could be promptly relieved by giving everyone enough money to survive.  We can’t do that because… why, exactly?  We don’t have enough?  It isn’t water or oxygen or cattle.  It’s not a finite resource.  We can just make some more and hand it out to everyone.  Of course, if we do that, it will cause runaway inflation and money will lose its value.  What value is that?  The value we assigned to it?  That’s the only value it has. 

The tree that has grown from the roots of sacrifice is strong enough to lift us to a place where there is no suffering.  We choose not to allow that because somehow we believe if we don’t have so many people suffering, our world will collapse.  But, you and I don’t live in Omelas.  We live on Earth.  We can make our own rules. 

Change begins with imagination.  Work on imagining Omelas.  See what ideas spring into your mind.  Then let’s see what we can do to make a better world in which there are no children in cellars, and everyone gets to Shine in their own way.  We can do that.  I know we can.  Let’s work on that together.

I love you.

Posted on by Fred

Combatting Hatred

You can’t change the world; only your corner of it.”
— My father, Alan Eder, quoting my grandpa, Enno Schuelke, September 12, 2001

“We’re on track for a million illegal aliens to rush our borders. People hate the word ‘invasion’ but that’s what it is. It’s an invasion of drugs and criminals and people. You have no idea who they are.”

Donald Trump

Invaders, by definition, need to be stopped. They are almost invariably met with violence.

Look at the examples of the usage of the word.

“To enter forcefully as an enemy; go into with hostile intent: Germany invaded Poland in 1939.” – Dictionary.com

If we believe the mythical “Others” are invaders, the logical response is to kill them, isn’t it?

This is the leadership we have. We are told we are being invaded. How can an American who believes this President be expected to act differently?

We can argue about gun control, but it’s a blind alley. We’re never going to make meaningful changes in those laws. If we didn’t do it after children… CHILDREN!… died at Sandy Hook, we certainly won’t because of a few “others.”

But, why do we have to accept the idea that those whose skin is darker, whose national origins are different, or whose sexuality, or gender identification, or religious beliefs are other than the majority are somehow bad? I’m sick to death of the argument that Mexicans are welcome if they come in legally. That’s bullshit, and the person making the argument knows it. It takes years to become a citizen, if you can do it at all. The first step is to determine eligibility for naturalization. That step alone can take 3 to 5 years. There are 9 additional steps.

The information is here:

https://www.path2usa.com/us-naturalization-eligibility

What they really have in mind is keeping America filled with people who are like them. We want only white people. If that’s not true, why are we building a wall at the Southern border, but not the Northern? We don’t seem to mind Canadians coming in.

My plea is really to give up our hatred. The most important question is who is better off for this?

I am better than some people. I am not as good as others. This is determined by my abilities and my behaviors. It has nothing to do with my race, gender, sexuality, religious or political views. The same is true for everyone else.

If you want to hate me, and there are many who do, then hate me for what I do. Hate my liberal opinions, but not the fact that I’m straight. Hate my Idealism, but not my religious views. Hate my speaking out against Hate. Hate my writing. Hate my reaching out for help. Those are all choices I have made. They are open to scrutiny. I was born male. I had nothing whatever to do with that. I was born in America. I deserve no credit for that.

Why should I hate someone because she’s female, or because he is homosexual, or because her children were born in Guatemala? Who is better off for that? How is my life better because the lives of others are worse? I don’t become taller by pushing someone else down. I don’t become richer by denying wealth to someone else.

We don’t need to be told to hate.

Hate leads to fear. Someone else is going to get something that should have been mine. I know that these people are bad because they weren’t born in America. It’s because of them that my life is no good. I am afraid of them invading and taking what is supposed to be mine.

Fear leads to violence. I can’t let them invade. I have to protect what’s mine, and what belongs to the rest of my tribe. They don’t belong in my country any more than a cockroach belongs in my house. The only thing to do when you’re invaded, is kill the invaders.

Violence leads to suffering. My mother, my son, my wife, my best friend… someone… is dead. I won’t see them again. No more laughing together at jokes that aren’t really funny. No more hugs and love. No more of the joy of seeing their eyes light up when I walk into a room. No more breathing for this person I love. And this hurts like a bitch.

Haven’t we had enough suffering yet?

What if we realized that a person had no choice about being born? No one chooses where or when to enter the planet. No one chooses the color of his skin (beyond tanning, I suppose). No one chooses her sexual orientation. No one chooses his gender. Is it reasonable to hate someone for things over which he had no control?

Hatred can be useful. I hated Osama bin Laden, not because he was from another country, not because his religious views differed from mine, and not even because of his sexual identity. I hated him for stealing my sense of security by slamming planes into buildings and killing thousands of human beings who were every bit as deserving of their next breath as I am of mine.

But I didn’t generalize that hatred to include all people who shared his religion. As it turns out, there are millions and millions of perfectly nice Muslims in the world. I have no cause to hate them. And it doesn’t do much to make me feel better to hate anyone. Do you enjoy hating others? I find it’s kind of a burning sensation in my chest that I would rather not have.

Again, it’s worth asking, before you do anything, “Who is better off for me doing this?” Sometimes, it’s something small. If I make a burrito, I’m better off for doing it because my blood sugar won’t drop, and I won’t be so hungry. But when it’s something that has the potential to hurt someone, it becomes a more serious question.

I understand, to some extent, the need to blame someone else for the conditions of our lives. I certainly don’t like mine. There’s at least a 70% chance I’ll be homeless on September 1. That makes me afraid. I would love to blame someone. But… who will it help? I still have the same problem to handle whether it’s the fault of President Trump, “The Others” (whomever you may choose), myself, my roommates, or the landlord who is selling the house in which we live. Blaming someone won’t get me a new habitation. Since I don’t like being angry, I don’t see any point in wasting emotional energy on hating someone else. I’m no better off for it. Neither is the subject of my blame.

If we can stop looking for scapegoats and start looking for solutions to our problems, we are more likely to be happier. It is intellectual cowardice to decide that someone else is responsible for our lot in life.

I’m told that there are websites called 4chan and 8chan that are dedicated to promoting Hate Speech. They have the absolute right to do this. I would never want to take away Freedom of Speech from anyone. Since I can’t stop them from spreading their message of hate, what can I do? I can fight their words with mine. I do what I can to spread a message of Love and Acceptance. Just as those sites incite violence, so I hope to incite peace.

We can legislate all day and into the night, and we won’t end the problem of gun violence because its root – Hatred – can’t be killed by laws. If we want to end this we have to stop the hatred. Martin Luther King, Jr. said it better than I can, so I will leave you to ponder his words in the context of mine.

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,
begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy
Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.
Through violence you may murder the liar,
but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.
Through violence you may murder the hater,
but you do not murder hate.
In fact, violence merely increases hate.
So it goes.
Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,
adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness:
only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.


Will you join me, please, in advocating Love over Hate?

Posted on by Fred

American Concentration Camps

U.S. Border Patrol agents conduct intake of illegal border crossers at the Central Processing Center in McAllen, Texas, Sunday, June 17, 2018.

“The United States is running concentration camps on our southern border and that is exactly what they are – they are concentration camps – and if that doesn’t bother you…”

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

Right off the top, people are disagreeing. Concentration camps are where the Jews were held by the Nazis during World War II. What we’re doing at the Southern Border doesn’t involve gas chambers pretending to be showers. We’re not murdering six million people. The language is inflammatory. It’s divisive. It’s offensive to Jewish people the world over.

Right… why, exactly, is that?

Frankly, I don’t care if you want to call them Concentration Camps, Detention Centers, Holding Facilities, or Holiday Fucking Inns. The fact is that they exist in The United States. Today. Right now. These aren’t the Japanese Internment Facilities of the past, before most of us were alive. These exist in America today. They are morally wrong.

“Well, you liberals want to blame Trump for everything. These were started under Obama, and where was your outrage then? You’re just a Trump Hater.”

Okay. Fair enough. We won’t blame President Trump. You may blame President Obama if you would like. You may blame Hillary Clinton. You may blame Nancy Pelosi. You may blame AOC, Santa Claus, The Tooth Fairy, or me personally. Whose fault it is doesn’t matter in the least. What matters is that it’s happening.

Let’s look at some facts. The following is from the Inspector General’s Report on one of the better facilities located in Newark, New Jersey. These are their recommendations from February, 2019.

Recommendation: We recommend ICE conduct an immediate, full review of the Essex County Correctional Facility and the Essex County Department of Corrections’ management of the facility to ensure compliance with ICE’s 2011 Performance-Based National Detention Standards. As part of this assessment, ICE must review and ensure compliance with those standards addressing: 1. Unreported security incidents; 2. Food safety; and 3. Facility conditions that include ceiling leaks, unsanitary shower stalls, bedding, and outdoor recreation areas.

Those are the conclusions of the Department of Homeland Security, not the conclusions of liberals, democrats, or socialists.

Facilities in Texas are worse. “Many of them are sleeping on concrete floors, including infants, toddlers, preschoolers. They are being given nothing but instant meals, Kool-Aid and cookies — many of them are sick. We are hearing that many of them are not sleeping. Almost all of them are incredibly sad and being traumatized. Many of them have not been given a shower for weeks. Many of them are not being allowed to brush their teeth except for maybe once every 10 days. They have no access to soap. It’s incredibly unsanitary conditions, and we’re very worried about the children’s health.” –

A law professor who recently visited the facility, Warren Binford of Willamette University

These are children. They are no different from your son or daughter, or your niece or nephew, or you and your siblings. They cannot possibly be guilty of any crime.

If their parents didn’t want them in this situation, they should have stayed in their own countries. It’s the parents’ fault, not ours!

Again, I couldn’t care less about whose fault it is. It does nothing to excuse the atrocities of the way we are treating human beings. We’re kidnapping children from their parents’ arms. They can’t be traced later, so reunification is exceptionally difficult. The children are housed in areas intended for adults, and the overcrowding is such that children are sleeping on top of one another on cold cement floors.

“Gialluca and a slew of other lawyers have been meeting with children and young mothers at facilities across the state this month as pro bono attorneys. At the McAllen center, Gialluca said, everyone she spoke with said they sought out Border Patrol agents after crossing the Rio Grande so they could request asylum.
Gialluca said the migrants, all from Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador, told her they aren’t receiving proper medical care and children don’t have enough clean clothes. Unable to clean themselves, young mothers reported wiping their children’s runny noses or vomit with their own clothing, Gialluca said. There aren’t sufficient cups or baby bottles, so many are reused or shared.”


https://www.texastribune.org/2019/06/23/immigrant-detention-center-mcalllen-overcrowded-filthy-conditions/

These are not conditions under which any human being ought to be living. We are experiencing this crisis in this country at this moment. It needs to end. It needs to end now.

Okay, Mr. Bleeding Heart Liberal, how would YOU end it? We have borders for a reason, or do you think we should throw open the door and let everyone in? Is that what you do at your house, or do you lock the door every night?

First, in my Ideal World, we would be done with Us and Them. We would recognize that every single one of us is a human being. We would recognize that all human beings should be allowed to live some form of decent life, and that one’s country of origin does nothing to tell me if one is a good person or a bad person. Neither does one’s race, gender, religion, appearance, economic security, or political ideas. To determine if one is a good person, I need to observe that person’s behavior.

Well, their behavior was to break the laws of the United States. That makes them criminals, and they deserve NOTHING from us!

I’m afraid adherence to laws does nothing to tell me about a person’s value. Harriet Tubman, for more than a decade, was breaking the law by guiding people along the Underground Railroad. She was breaking the law. She was also doing the right thing.

If an immigrant does something to hurt someone – if an immigrant assaults someone, kills or rapes someone, or steals from someone – that’s a reason to remove him or her. But stepping across a line does nothing to hurt me. It does nothing to hurt you, either.

The arguments against immigrants are generally an effort to dehumanize them. How could you do this to a child? Well… if they’re not really children… if they’re not my children… then it’s okay to treat them badly because they, you know, deserve it somehow.

But I think, deep down, we all know that’s not true. We have to find a way to make this normal so we don’t have to feel appalled. And when this becomes normal, Death Camps aren’t far behind. And, it won’t be just immigrants. They’re first, but others will join them in coming days.

We’ve been doing this for centuries. We did it with black people. They were obviously different. Their skin was a darker color. They were Them. Good people, white people, were Us. We have to subjugate those who are not Us.

We did it with women. We did it with those whose sexual orientations were different from the majority. We did it with those whose religious beliefs were different from the majority.

Why?

Who is better off for deciding that one group of people needs to be treated better or worse based on their membership in that group?

I’m a straight, white male. That makes me better than absolutely no one. Your membership in whatever groups have been assigned to you makes you no better than anyone else, either.

You’re better or worse than other people based upon your behaviors.

The behaviors of these immigrant children don’t earn them the hell we are giving them.

I’m not a politician. There are many very good reasons for that. I don’t have solutions to America’s problems. But I can certainly recognize a problem when it’s staring me in the face. We are moving down a road we should all be able to recognize by now. Let’s stop where we are and turn around and go back.

Can we afford to give these people the help they need? I submit, if we want to call ourselves human, we can’t afford not to.

In my Ideal World, there are no borders. No, we don’t let strangers in our houses, but my house is not the same as my country. My home contains my private property, and a stranger inside it may represent a danger to me.

The country, however, is made up of nothing but strangers and immigrants. I’m perfectly content for them to find the best life they can here. In my world, everyone has shelter, food, medicine, and sanitary conditions in which to live. We all have a fair chance to make our lives better. We’re all willing to give each other a helping hand. We all get a good education, and we find joy in our lives.

Why is that world impossible? Because you’ve been taught it is.

Let’s learn something new. Let’s learn Love for All Humans. Let’s learn what a friend taught me when I was 16 years old: “One planet, one people… please?”