All Hallows' Eve

Should you want to reduce the number of trick-or-treaters who besiege your house on Halloween, do what we do: Instead of passing out gobs of candy to the grubby little beggars, offer handfuls of raisins and salted-in-the-shell peanuts. The first few years of Halloween in our current house, we would have dozens of assorted ghouls and goblins, princesses and cowboys, skipping merrily in anticipation down our walk. But when we would hold out a large bowl full of raisins and peanuts and encourage them to take as much as they liked, their expressions would turn confused, grim, unsure of what “trick” this was we were pulling on them. A few would politely say “Thank you” and take a peanut or two, many would just say “Thank you” and walk away to what they hoped would be a more rewarding cache next door. It didn’t take long before the numbers of bantam beggars began to dwindle. Experience and word-of-mouth taught them to avoid our house, and now we entertain maybe a handful of the scroungers each year, most new to the neighborhood or toddlers new to the revelry. But they learn fast when confronted with a bowl of raisins and peanuts instead of Skittles and Candy Corn, and they won’t be back next year, thank you.

The Fuel of War

Listening to the presidential debate last night on foreign policy, with the bellicose rhetoric and promises of a strong military (and military spending), I couldn’t help but think of our 34^th president, who also happened to be the only military general who became president since the 18^th president, Ulysses S. Grant, and happened to command the European theater in World War II, including the Normandy Invasion, Dwight D. Eisenhower:

I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity. – January 10, 1946

Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. – April 16, 1953

In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist. – January 17, 1961

Since Ike’s words 50 years ago, it’s become the “military-industrial-congressional complex,” and it’s wholly controlled by the moneyed interests across the world. Capitalism needs industry and growth, the major growth industry is the war machine, and the war machine needs war. No wonder we’ve been at war for virtually all of the past 75 years, that we have troops, aircraft, and ships in some 150 countries, that we are the “world police” or “peace keepers” or whatever euphemism you like for war mongers or empire. We have an economy to fuel, and war – endless war – is that fuel.

Debased Debates

If the U.S. really cared about its democracy it would get rid of presidential debates. Or at the very least, televised debates. And for only two reasons:

1. Televised debates are only about style, not substance. Ever since the first televised debate between Nixon and Kennedy in 1960, it has become commonplace to declare the “winner” to be the candidate who comes across better on TV (facial expressions, gestures, body language). But for those who only listen to the debate on radio, it’s usually the other candidate who comes across as the “winner” (control of facts and ideas). The medium is the message.

2. The TV networks – and especially the cable networks – hype the importance of the debates in order to promote their coverage (and advertising dollars), and in so doing skew the campaign to the “game of the week.” This week’s debate is the most important event of the campaign. Until it’s over, and then next week’s debate becomes the most important. Until it’s over . . . and so on. How quickly we forget those “most important” primary debates back in the spring, not to mention the “most important” conventions (now TV shows) in the summer.

Our democracy would be much better served if we went back to pre-television campaigns. Or better yet, further back to when candidates didn’t campaign at all. Maybe we could judge candidates on what they’ve done, written, and said rather than how they perform.

Attack Of the Unwanted

We couldn’t take it anymore. They had been relentless, starting only occasionally several months ago, but in the past few weeks escalating their attacks, half a dozen a day to a dozen or more, any day or night, they hounded, they harassed, they bullied. We tried to ignore them. But it was like ignoring a swarm of hungry mosquitos. Finally, I had to just unplug the phone from the wall. There will be no land line for us until this election is over.

Taking Back the Country

Mitt Romney continues to end his campaign speeches to his supporters with the right-wingnut slogan “We’re going to take back this country!” This is the rally cry of a revolutionary. I don’t know who the “we” is, but I’m sure it’s not me. And I don’t think it’s the independents and undecided voters (few as they might be). I’m evidently one of those who took Mitt’s country away from him and his. And now he’s trying to take it back away from me and mine. When did the possession of the country become the object of an election?

Ticonderoga #2

On my walk this morning, near the high school, I came across a pencil lying on the sidewalk, apparently dropped from the pocket or backpack of a student. It was something of a surprise, like coming across a fossil in a streambed. Do they really still use pencils? Why? And for what? Don’t they have computers and iPads and calculators and, in a pinch, pens? I tried to think when the last time I used a pencil was. I have two large coffee mugs on the desk in my office with a few pencils in each, but can’t recall using any of them in at least several years, maybe five or eight or ten. If I ever have to write on paper – not very often, phone messages and shopping lists mostly – it’s always with a pen. I thought it might be at a hotel, where they provide a slim pad of paper and writing implement beside the phone, but it’s been I don’t know how long since the writing implement was a pencil and not a pen. And several times in the past few years there hasn’t been any pad of paper or pen or pencil, the assumption being that you had a computer or smartphone for any notes – written or oral – you might need to make. The world is digital and probably will forever be, and that’s probably for the good. But for a moment this morning, striding across that dropped Ticonderoga #2 on the sidewalk, a pang of nostalgia crossed my memory. And I wondered – did the student who drop it even ever miss it?