Yearly Archives: 2021

2121
As the Sun pours its rays on Earth's dust
Airless clouds whirl in russet and rose
Rivers sink into cracks in the crust
Grasses burn as a dreadful wind blows

There were years when the mallows grew tall
Scarlet petals would sip on the dew
When the mist from a cool waterfall
Wetted rocks where the mosses once grew

Wading birds stalked their prey in the ponds 
That the beavers had fashioned from creeks
Lady ferns produced copious fronds
Made to moisten the wading birds' beaks

Lack of snow did away with the streams
Lack of plants led to ever less rain
We accepted extremer extremes
But we hoped for a less painful pain

We watch robins peck dirt to find food
In days past, they found worms everywhere
But as drought baked away plenitude
Easy meals grew increasingly rare

They say corn on the cob was a treat
That our grandparents ate long ago
Maize was bred to survive summer heat
But not hundreds of days in a row

Warming waters drove fish from the shores
And the size of the catches went down
Now we never find fish in the stores
Under ninety-nine dollars a pound

Steaming trucks inch along buckled roads
River barges lay trapped in the sand
Cargo pilots fly overweight loads
And then pray for a safe place to land

Global warming exceeded our fears
Now there's nothing the experts can do
All their warnings just fell on deaf ears
And the poets are drying... up... too...
Read 5 comments and add yours | Read other posts in Verse

[Today’s post is a direct rip-off of Sidney J. Harris‘s columns of the same name.  I am not the first and won’t be the last to do so — it is hardly the most original idea — but a tip of the hat to Mr. Harris in any event.]

⊛ In 1793, the French Republic rejected the royalist/religious calender of its times and adopted the calendrier républicain.  Day One of the new calendar was September 22, 1792 (or 1 Vendémiaire I) to mark the day the Republic was born.  The months were all given new names (Fructidor, or giving fruit, is my favorite) along with each day of each month.  Years were designated by Roman numerals, which turned out to be less unwieldy than one might fear: the calendrier lasted only to Year XIV.  Had that calendar persisted, and had my parents lived in France, The 100 Billionth Person would have been born on 22 Ventôse (Windy) CLXI, on Percil (Parsley) day.

⊛ I was surprised to learn that the Pittsburgh Pirates, winners of the 1960 World Series, played a rare tie game in the regular season that year, so their season record was 95-59-1.  I thought they might have been the only World Series winner with a regular season tie, but I was wrong.  The 2016 Chicago Cubs, who won the World Series vs. Cleveland that year, played a 1-1 game on September 29 that was suspended after 6 innings due to bad weather. As the game lasted five innings, it was an “official game” and could have been ruled a tie.  Instead, the league simply wiped the game off the books, as its outcome did not affect the final standings.  This Chicago Cubs non-tie was played against… the Pittsburgh Pirates.

⊛ Is there an English word that means “next to next-to-last”?  Yes — antepenultimate.  This describes, for example, the 60th episode of Breaking Bad, in which Hank dies in a desert shoot-out.  That episode was titled “Ozymandias” based on a sonnet by the English poet Percy Shelley in 1818.  Ozymandias in turn was the Greek name of Egyptian pharaoh Ramesses II, who had the longest reign of all Egyptian kings.  We could keep on walking down Association Avenue, but let’s turn to my penultimate item instead.

⊛ The other day as we were Netflixing The Long Riders, a 1980 western, I began to notice how rarely the actors and, especially, the actresses blinked their eyes.  It was eerie to watch an actress stare at her eyeline (film-speak for focal point) as if possessed.  This led me to look up the typical rate of human eyelid blinking: about every 6 seconds.  But that is trivia; the more interesting thing I learned is that infants do not produce tears until they are one month old and that they only blink once or twice a minute.  So, we are all born actors!

⊛ As my faithful readers know, I’m sort of a map nerd.  Earlier this spring, I ordered from our library How the States Got Their Shapes by Mark Stein (2008), to satisfy my curiosity about the seemingly arbitrary alignments of various state borders.  The thing I learned was how the institution of slavery — those striving to preserve it pitted against those hoping to contain it — played an outsized role in setting the borders of states west of the Mississippi.  But the thing I learned while learning that thing was how Idaho Territory, formed in 1863 in the midst of the Civil War, became a Confederate (later, Southern Democrat) stronghold for almost two decades.

After the Battle of Gettysburg (July 1863), the Union Army marched southward.  Refugees from the battle states fled northwest to Idaho Territory, lured by the news of gold strikes.  Those ex-Southerners brought their Confederate sympathies with them, as evidenced by the various Confederacy place names in present-day Idaho, e.g., Atlanta, Dixie, Leesburg, and Secesh River.  (Secesh was not a Nez Perce word for caribou but rather the shorthand of its time for a Southern secessionist.)

Not long after the Civil War, the Idaho World of July 24, 1867, heralded the publication of The Lost Cause, a 750-page book by pro-Confederacy writer and editor Edward A. Pollard.  Pollard described slavery as a “system of servitude [which] elevated the African and was in the interest of human improvement” and called his Southern brethren to remain steadfast and take their fight to other arenas:  “The Confederates have gone out of this war with the proud, secret, deathless, dangerous consciousness that they are THE BETTER MEN, and that [nothing was] wanting but a change in a set of circumstances and a firmer resolve to make them the victors.”  The editor of Idaho World wrote that he had “no hesitation in warmly commending the book to all our readers as a faithful, interesting, ably written volume.”

And so were those poisonous seeds scattered and sown.

⊛ Postscript: I had always wondered why the diamond-shaped District of Columbia had a northeast (Maryland) sector but no southwest (Virginia) sector.  The reason, I learned, was again related to slavery.  Alexandria was the northern hub of the U.S. slave trade.  It had been included in the lands that Virginia ceded to help form D.C.  But in 1846, slave-owners forced the U.S. to recede the land to Virginia, so that Alexandria’s slave trade would not be subject to D.C. law.

If the lands that Virginia ceded in 1790 still belonged to D.C., the D.C. population would easily exceed one million, greater than that of six and possibly seven other states, each of whom enjoy representation in Congress from two Senators and one House member.

Read 4 comments and add yours | Read other posts in Life

Even though Donald Trump no longer dominates every minute of every media day, we are  all too aware that he still aspires to.  Our corporate/cooperative media loves to play up the “Emperor in Exile” angle, as if Trump were Napoleon and Mar-a-Lago were his Elba.

If I may remind, Napoleon escaped from the island of Elba in March of 1815, then gathered a new army and “reinstated” himself as Emperor of the French.  In June of that year, his army would be crushed at Waterloo, leading to Napoleon’s second and final exile, on the isle of St. Helena in the South Atlantic. Plagued by boredom and loneliness, he died there in 1821, claiming his captors had poisoned him.

Trump is like Napoleon was, not only in his delusions of grandeur but also in terms of his popular appeal.  Consider this “Great Courses” profile of Napoleon, written of him in 2017:

Napoleon would become a great champion of the self-made man. He would become the idol of a great many people, commoners who saw in Napoleon the possibilities of what a man of talent, what a man blessed with ability, with ambition, could do if he were unfettered by the structures of the old regime.

Substitute Trump for Napoleon in that paragraph and ask yourself, was that not exactly how Trump marketed himself to America, boisterously and incessantly, on his way to becoming President and while he was President?

But such comparisons miss the mark in an important way.  Napoleon Bonaparte gained his fame and power by military conquest; Donald Trump did so through demagoguery, drawing strength from the basest instincts of his base.  Whereas Napoleon needed wars, Trump demanded audiences.

Trump found that the best way to draw the largest crowds was to expect nothing of them but instead entertain and pander to them.  These were the messages Trump sent to them:

  • It’s OK to be bigoted — but don’t let anyone call you one.
  • It’s OK to say whatever you want, even if it isn’t accurate or well-reasoned, and even if it offends someone.  In fact, offending people is kind of fun.
  • It’s OK to be selfish, but you’re not selfish if you’re nice to your friends.
  • Everyone else is trying to steal your hard-earned money.
  • And it’s their fault if your life isn’t what you want it to be.

“I’m a narcissist, a racist and a bully, and goddammit, people like me.”

These messages resonated with millions of Americans who, at heart, do not want to bear any moral or societal obligation.  Donald Trump became a kind of Bizarro Stuart Smalley for such “individualists”. He didn’t want them to be better people.  He didn’t expect them to serve any cause except themselves.  In fact, Trump rarely asked anything of his followers except to show loyalty to Trump.  His message of affirmation for them was: follow me and you’ll feel good about feeling angry.

The MAGA mob knew it was OK to storm the Capitol if they did it in Trump’s name. They felt no obligation to the institution, the building, the authorities protecting it, or the lawmakers inside.  Their savagery had no good or great purpose, but Trump would step forward to validate the angry marauders, using words that the “real” Stuart Smalley might say: “We love you, you’re very special.

Trump was and is popular — he received 74 million votes! — because he asks nothing from people who want nothing to be demanded of them, most of all the need for them to be any better people than they are.  That is the real source of Trump’s power.  Trump may one day fade away — the permanence of his exile is still in doubt — but his “affirmations” to his self-regarding followers, his letting Americans off the hook from giving a damn about their fellow man, will, like Napoleon’s legacy, long and notoriously outlive him.

It may take a generation to restore what society has lost.  I doubt that I will see those tens of millions of Trump’s followers re-enlist in the cause of mankind in my lifetime.

Read 2 comments and add yours | Read other posts in News and Comment