Cruising Pennsylvania, Part 1

Nora and I took a seven day trip around Pennsylvania (with a side jaunt to Cleveland) from September 13 to 19. All in all, we drove 1150 miles in that seven days. Remarkably, with our new Toyota Cross SUV Hybrid, we only used around 24.5 gallons of gas which equates to about 47 miles per gallon. Without getting too far away from my main topic, it just boggles my mind why America, let alone, the world, isn't encouraging consumers to purchase hybrid vehicles, either with monetary enticement in the form of rebates or tax incentives, or just merely talking them up, rather that the current administration's focus on policies which increase the demand for gas. 

Is he that obtuse that he would ignore the demand side of any consumer product when he focuses entirely on increasing the supply side, or is he just too old, too out of touch, too stuck in the past, that he doesn't realize that technologies that reduce the consumption of gas, reduce the need for fossil fuels, which might also reduce all the international drama (and outright war) that is associated with them. 

Oh well.

So, we left on Saturday for an afternoon bike rail adventure. If you haven't heard of these, it involves special bikes that are mounted to abandoned railroad tracks, of which there are hundreds, if not thousands of miles in Pennsylvania. In our case, we rented a four person bike for myself, wife, daughter and daughter-in-law. It was a beautiful day, in fact the weather for our entire trip was perfect. The ride was about 7 miles each way, through woods and past pastoral scenes, farms, meadows, open land. Just beautiful, and even relaxing despite the necessity of peddling. 

From there we had dinner with the girls, then they drove home to our house as they had offered to take care of our cats, water the plants, pick the produce, and, hopefully, enjoy time away from their normal routine.

On Sunday, Nora and I went to "Beyond the Battle", a museum on the edge of Gettysburg Military Park. Its focus was the land surrounding the battlegrounds, the history of who lived there, how it was "developed", and why that area was attractive in the first place for the advancement of soldiers and the movement of armies. It wasn't haphazard that Gettysburg became a such an important place for the battle that took place there. 

The highlight was a room outfitted to invoke a family who might have hidden in their basement as the battle took place around them. It was very realistic. You could feel in your chest the power of the cannons, could sense the panic of those who lived there, and the sheer chaos that such a horrific battle, and its devastation, created.

The end of the experience featured the voice of a rebel as he "discovered" the family, us, as we hid in the basement, a voice infused with less than friendly intent.

During this experience, I couldn't help but wonder about all the families in the world who are being subjected to similar onslaughts. although with far more destructive weapons. In Gaza and Ukraine, to name two, everyday families are experiencing the horror of war which we felt for just those few minutes in that room. It is sad that we spend so much time worrying about such trivial things, while people in those countries, women and children to boot, are under attack.  

From there we went to the military park. 

While I am sure I visited Gettysburg National Military Park as a child, I remember little about the visit, and haven't been there for at least 50 years, so I was surprised by its size. We downloaded a free app from the National Park Service that has a tour of Gettysburg, along with dozens of other national parks. At the visitor center we were given a map that detailed 16 stops along the auto tour that you could drive yourself. The NPS app was organized in the same way, so that at each stop you heard a description of what was going on at that place during the various battles that took place in Gettysburg in early July, 1863. We fell into the pattern of listening to the audio as we drove to the various sites, then got out to walk around. Often we listened again after returning to the car. In this way, we hit all 16 spots. All in all it took about four hours for us to make the circuit.

The park was bursting with monuments, small and large, to the various soldiers, regiments, battalions, etc that fought in the battles that took place. In addition, many mentioned battles at other locations that those same groups of soldiers engaged in, and died. There were a lot of statistics detailing deaths, wounded, captured, and missing.

The missing number was often as high as any of the other stats, indicating that, perhaps some of the young men thrown into such battles may have departed without permission, but most were delegated as missing because they were killed in such a way that their bodies could not be identified. Ah, the glories of war.

But the most surprising aspect of the military park was the large percentage of monuments to Confederate soldiers, more so than for their Union counterparts. Now, don't get me wrong, I have no problem with honoring those who gave their life for their beliefs, but it is still true that those who fought on the Confederate side were fighting against the United States Government. Perhaps traitors is too harsh, but they did engage in succession, did attempt to overthrow the ruling US Government. While Gettysburg is not that far north of the Mason-Dixon line, it still struck me that there seemed to be less reverence for those who fought, and died, for our country, less recognition of their sacrifice.

As a Pennsylvanian by birth, I was proud that the most spectacular monument was the one celebrating the brave young men who fought in the various regiments and battalions which were formed in my home state. It was one of the few that you could climb up to its top, to look out over the fields which were dotted with other shrines to the various generals and soldiers. 

One of the last stops on the tour was the graveyard which featured an abundance of markers with names only, or no name mentioned. Again, such a powerful indicator of the devastation that caused so many young men to be buried without recognition because they either weren't recognizable or because there was no available info to reveal their identity.

We returned to the same hotel we had stayed at after the rail trail bike adventure after finding a nice local restaurant for dinner. We also had breakfast at a local diner that morning before the ride to Gettysburg, and the next morning before we left for the Pittsburgh area.

Our plan was to stay at my son's house in Aliquippa, after visiting the National Aviary in Pittsburgh, but we encountered a two hour delay on the Pa turnpike when a truck was not able to negotiate the entrance to one of the tunnels and got jammed in the entrance. We commented more than once that we would have missed that delay had we not, fill in the blank, as we were within 200 yards of the accident. We didn't actually witness the incident, but I expect had we passed that spot a mere two or three minutes earlier, we would have been through the tunnel before the calamity.

If we hadn't finished the last drops of that coffee, or not glanced around the hotel room one last time for anything we forgot, or not chatted with the waitress at the diner before giving her our order, or any number of 2-5 minutes activities we engaged in that would have brought us to that tunnel entrance a bit sooner, we would have made our scheduled visit at the Aviary. 

Instead, we went right to JW's house, chatted a bit, then went out to dinner. We had a wonderful meal at an all you can eat Japanese restaurant. Sated, we returned to my son's house for some more conversation, a bit of TV, then sleep.

The next morning, Tuesday, we all went to breakfast at a local breakfast/lunch place, then Nora and I drove to Cleveland to visit the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame. It was glorious. Constant music played as we walked through the museum's six levels. In addition to the stories and pictures on the walls of the early days of Rock, there was a slew of paraphernalia. Outfits, instruments, scribbled lines on paper and napkins of future number one hits, playbills, etc, just a cornucopia of everything related to rock n roll.

At one point there was a display featuring tapes of some Congressional hearings that occurred during the early days of rock music. Similar to what we see today when some self-righteous man or woman testifies about the evil of something, book, ideology, type of person, activity, etc, always declaring that this thing or action is ruining our culture, will bring the downfall of everything we treasure, and needs to be eradicated. 

Funny how the music of the time, so controversial, so sexual, so dangerous, is now used to sell cars and cruises and every other type of consumer product that one can imagine. And not only to us boomers who were condemned by those who perceived rock music as the devil's work, but even to our children.

Kind of makes you wonder how today's evil will be used to sell consumer products in 30 years, and what the children of those who condemn today's version of the things that will ruin our their minds and souls, will be targeting when it is their turn to "protect" the next generation from future cultural perversions.

Such an interesting circle, yet one for which we seem to eternally be ignorant of its lessons.  

After a few hours in the Hall, we drove to Presque Isle State Park near Erie, Pa where we had a take out Chinese food lunch at a picnic table, the sun heating the benches we relaxed upon, a cool breeze countering its warmth. After eating, we walked on a small trail for a bit, then went to the hotel to check in. 

As we had already done a few times, we asked the hotel clerk to suggest a local restaurant for us to try for dinner. It was so good that we ate there again the next night before driving to our next stop.

The next morning brought us another beautiful day. We drove back to the state park, stopping at one of the lighthouses on the island, and the Perry Monument which is located at its tip, on Lake Erie. Interesting story about Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry who defeated the British at the Battle of Lake Erie, a pivotal engagement during the war of 1812, a war not well known, but one which, had it gone the wrong way, would have changed America for decades.

Perry, after surviving a number of naval battles, died from yellow fever on a diplomatic mission to South America, on his 34th birthday. Funny, or is it ironic, how death can emanate from such everyday activities despite some people's history of dangerous events.

After the history lesson, we hiked a few of the trails, one properly called The Sidewalk Trail as it resembled an ordinary sidewalk which one might see on any city street. Not necessarily usable for bicycles, but a nice trail nonetheless.

As mentioned before, we returned to the restaurant we had tried the night before, had another nice meal, then departed.

As a side note, I mentioned that we only used about 24-25 gallons of gas during the trip. We left with a full tank, but after checking out gas prices online, I only purchased 4 gallons of gas when we left the Gettysburg area, knowing it would be enough to get me to Ohio on the way to Cleveland, the reason being that gas in Ohio is about 45 cents cheaper than Gettysburg and an even better bargain than in Aliquippa. We paid $2.86 a gallon there.

Also, as Erie, Pa is located on a sliver of land that would more practically be a part of New York State, I knew we would be traveling into New York for a spell, then head south into Pa towards our next destination. Again, a bit of research indicated that just before we headed south, gas would be even cheaper than in Ohio. We paid only $2.73 at a station that advertised a free pre-rolled joint with a $20 gas purchase. Sadly, we didn't qualify as the hybrid was only sipping gas as I detailed above, and we only needed 6 1/2 gallons to fill the tank.

 

 

 

 

 

Toni Morrison

I believe I mentioned in a previous post that I borrowed two books from the library written by Toni Morrison. In the last two weeks, I have read those books, The Bluest Eye and Sula. 

I enjoyed both, perhaps Sula a bit more. Both described, in raw detail the lives and experiences of Black people in the South in that hundred years after Emancipation but before the Civil Rights Act of 1964. In each, Morrison does not pull any punches as she relates in very graphic scenes the reality of being Black in America during that time. 

While I believe it would have been educational, certainly challenging, to have been required to read her novels in high school, I can understand why so many White Americans, Christians no less, push to have her books banned. Advocate that their sons and daughters not be exposed to the systemic racism that existed in the land of the free for so many generations.

That it is better to pretend that those times are gone, not withstanding the glorification we are experiencing concerning Charlie Kirk who often expressed opinions that dismissed the damage done by slavery, individually as well as communally, while claiming the existence of some kind of reverse discrimination that elevates undeserving people of color and women over the much superior white male.

No wonder people of his ilk prefer to erase the historic level of racism that existed in America. They need such erasures to enhance their support for continued prejudice against minorities and women but with a new twist, that white males are now the victims.

It would be comical if it wasn't so successful, and so insidious.

Morrison died in 2019, so she has missed the meteoric rise of MAGA, although I am sure she noticed the roots of it from the day of that famous ride down the escalator, and during those first few years of the first administration.

I haven't done any research into Morrison and her books. Whether some of her stories were partly autobiographical, or just what she observed, or what was passed down from her family or her neighbors. Having been born in 1931, I am sure she experienced some of the hopelessness that she imbues in some of her characters. And the resilience against the stacked odds against her race. And the resignation that nothing would change, as long as their skin color did not match those in charge.

Neither book is happy, neither has a happy ending, or a hero or heroine who succeeds despite the odds. Perhaps she has other novels that do supply more hope. When I googled that question, the description of her novel Paradise seemed to indicate one such book.

But both books delve into the topics of self identity, self worth, race, family, and friendship, all themes that resonate across race and gender, but are uniquely detailed through the lens of the accepted belief that being born Black makes one less equal, a belief that Morrison expresses as common for both sides of that color divide.

Again, it is only two books, but I was also struck by the lack of the angry black man, or woman, that is depicted in so many stories told for white readers, by those who wish to justify the need to keep "them" under control. This is not to say that there exists in any of her other books, or books by other famous Black writers, homage to those who were more aggressive in their fight for freedom and equality.

But that is the irony. When a mostly white mob attacks our nation's capitol at the behest of the outgoing president who is too weak or just too arrogant to accept his election loss, they are hailed as patriots, and eventually pardoned. Some are even serving in legislatures, state and federal, across our land.

But when a non-white person exhibits similar aggressive action, they are law breakers, pure and simple. They must be labelled terrorists, as the president has now done in reference to antifa, which actually stands for anti-fascism. Funny how a president who actively calls his enemies all the pejorative names, socialist, communist, fascist, as if he, and his cult, understand the meaning of any of them, would be so focused on a group that itself is against fascism.

I am old enough to remember when, on the podium as they received their gold medals at the 1968 Olympics, Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised a black-gloved fist to express their dissatisfaction with the state of race relations in America. Of course, this "black power" salute as it was named by the white power brokers in our country was roundly condemned. Calls for them to have their medals revoked burst from the halls of Congress and the pundits of the day. 

Not to mention the kneeling during the national anthem that was a thing for a hot minute during the early part of Trump 1. 

In each case, just a gesture. No one was hurt, nothing was destroyed, yet because it was Black people leading the way, there was condemnation. Outrage. Ostracism.

To be fair, there was also outrage when 140 Capitol Police officers were attacked, when a couple million dollars of damage was done to the Capitol building, when a number of those same injured officers died in the days following the attack, some of their wounds, some by their own hand, traumatized as they were. 

But now, the whole incident is being rewritten as a day of Love and Peace. Nothing to see here. In fact, perhaps we should start investigating anyone who says it was a riot, anyone who investigated it and came to any conclusion other than it was an act of American patriotism.

Not sure why I decided to read Toni Morrison books so late in life, so long after their publication. I assume I encountered her name, or a reference to her works in a magazine, perhaps even The Atlantic. 

But I am glad that I read them, even if a little late. They help me feel more confident that I am on the right side of history in my condemnation of the policies of the Trump Administration, and the words of someone like Charlie Kirk, both who represent the worst of American behavior towards people not white. Whose words are the antithesis of the teachings of Jesus, the inspiration of the religion they claim to follow.

Finally, I recently asked a friend of mine how all this will end. What will it take for America to wake up to the fact that we have lost our way. His response, bloodshed, matched my prediction earlier this year that an American citizen, or citizens would be killed by an ICE or National Guardsmen, or military soldier sometime in the summer.

Fortunately, I was wrong, as summer ends has ended. But with the planned national day of celebration and remembrance for Charlie Kirk on October 14th, his birthday, which is also the birthday of George Floyd, I am hesitant to withdraw my prediction. I expect there to be all sorts of counter protests, and, if history is any lesson, those that celebrate the white racist will be called American patriots, while those that honor the murdered black man will be labelled anti-American terrorists.

And so the decline continues. 

    

Another 9/11 Anniversary

Today marks the 24th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.

24 years.

Most children born that year, and the four years following it, are in their early 20's. Perhaps on college campuses as we speak, or in the work force as they begin their adulthood adventures.

I am sure many have children, despite the declining birth rate. Experiencing the joys and anxieties associated with raising an infant. The struggle to balance work and home life, day care expenses, and the challenge of leaving their care free young adult lives behind in lieu of responsibilities, bills, and budgets.

The wars that were inspired by that horrific day are behind us, although the threat of war is still prevalent, the wrath of those who would destroy our "way of life" still widespread. 

I have posted a number of times under the label of Nine Eleven, twice in the first year, then for the first and second anniversary. But only a few times more since then, in 2016 and last year. Perhaps there are others that I haven't been able to identify, but I am less than happy that I have allowed this anniversary to be pushed out of view, at least my view, so often. 

Here are links to the five posts I refer to.   

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2016/09/another-911-anniversary.html

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2013/09/another-911-anniversary.html

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2012/09/another-911-anniversary.html

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2011/09/reflections-on-911.html

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2011/08/jumpstart-to-911-discussions.html

In reading them now, I am struck with the lack of progress we have made, as a country, in regards to our relationships with the rest of the world. In fact, disappointed would be a better word, especially considering the current administration's apparent desire to eliminate all the soft power programs that provided food, medicine and monies to assist those in the world with less. 

 

Those efforts, which helped cement the opinion that America was a great nation, willing to help the less fortunate, are being replaced with, at best, an isolationist attitude, at worst with the very clear message that we only care about ourselves. America first.

 

Certainly it is true that telling everyone what to do, how to run their country, who to elect, what their values should be, was a mistake, even if it was meant to help. 

 

But a 360 degree shift is not the answer either.

 

When we end programs that save children's lives, provide medicine and food to reduce poverty and disease, food, by the way, grown by American farmers who are also suffering with this change in philosophy, we diminish the connection we have developed with those whose only crime was to be born in a country not America. In essence we tell them, too bad, no longer interested in sharing our blessings.

 

And, we provide an opening for other countries, China in particular, to fill that void and establish their country, their belief system as one which aides those without resources. 

 

Even worse, along with two of the worst bullies on the planet at this time, Putin and Netanyahu, who are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of women and children, our president seems aligned, if not with all their actions, the actual methodology they represent; might makes right. 

 

Not that America hasn't endorsed this motto often, but now it has taken a whole new meaning with Trump's threats to Greenland and Canada, his obvious disdain for all leaders of our traditional allies/democratic nations, his love affairs with Putin, Orban, and Jung Un, each a dictator in his own right, and even the outright attack on a Venezuelan ship in international waters, judge, jury and executioner.

 

We seemed to have learned nothing. 

 

As is Israel with their attempts to eliminate every Hamas leader from the face of the planet, women and children as collateral damage be damned, America seems on a headlong path to eliminate friends who have stood by us, reduce the population of countries that historically depended on our largess, and create even more enemies in the world.

 

Or maybe the plan is to make new friends among our old enemies by moving away from democracy towards a version of performative democracy like in Russia and Hungary, or outright autocracy like in South Korea.

 

As I have said a number of times, the decline is real, it is only a matter of how far and to what degree. 

 

And how long, hopefully, it might take us to recover. 

Kurt Vonnegut

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been using the Chester County Library System a lot these last few months. Last week I withdrew three books, two by Toni Morrison, and Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five.

Not exactly sure why I decided to read Vonnegut's book, although I suspect his name may have appeared in one of the articles in the August Atlantic about nuclear weapons.

But first, interesting story. When I searched the adult fiction section for "Slaughterhouse...", I didn't find it even though I had checked before going and knew it was on the shelf. After easily locating the two Morrison books, I asked at the desk where I was told that "Slaughterhouse Five" was in the young adult section. I was intrigued. When I asked why, I was told that it was there because it was included on a the local high school reading list. In retrospect, I guess this shouldn't have surprised me as I am sure I was assigned to read it in high school.

While also at the checkout desk, I asked if they had a banned book section yet. Working on it, was the response When I commented that all three of the books I was checking out would most likely be included when they did establish such an area, the librarian agreed. I told her I would make sure to return them all soon.

Now, of course, as an adult, I would certainly be able to access any of those books, I assume, even in the most backward/aggressive of states which are actively banning books. What is sad however, is that they would not be available to young adults in those places.

Just another reason why it boggles my mind that so many Americans embrace the current surge of ideology that results in ideas being censored. And so the decline continues.

Anyway, as I read "Slaughterhouse...," I was taken back to Mr Topper's English class in high school. Or was it Mr McCabe? I guess it doesn't really matter who lead the discussions, just that it was discussed, although I can't recall any of those classes and analysis.

As I read the book this time, I must say that I was getting a bit tired of the phrase "And so it goes", which Vonnegut uses throughout the book. I actually googled the question, how many times...., and found one answer to be 106 times. Of course, who am I to critique Kurt Vonnegut, but I felt it started to lose its effectiveness after a while. Although, perhaps that was the point.

Anyway, I was most struck by the invention of the Tralfamadorians in the book, especially as it relates to their ability to see in 4D, where the 4th dimension is time, and their perception of death, which is that, for them, there is no death, only experiences, and in no definitive order.

The character Billy Pilgrim, who claims to have been abducted by the aliens, and to have traveled in time many, many times, illustrates the advantages of this concept. While many of us may be adverse to knowing when we are going to die, Billy knows precisely when, and in fact seems to have experienced it, but not as the finale of his life. He even predicts that he is going to die while giving a speech, which leads to him being offered police protection. He declines. And so it goes.

Of course, many people believe that death is not final, believe there is an afterlife. That our life force will go on without the body. Sometimes I wonder how many people actually believe that, despite the high percentage of people who say they do.

I say this because of the plethora of ways humans attempt to lengthen their lives, certainly their youth. I mean the search for the Fountain of Youth is as old a tale as tales themselves. Not to mention the obsession we seem to have for accumulating wealth. Do we forget that you can't take it with you, or do some people really believe that the afterlife has a yardstick for possessions, and that the more you die with, the better cloud you get assigned to?

Perhaps it is the fear of death that makes us scramble, lie, cheat, long for, even sacrifice our morals and principles to gather more and more money. 

I recently expressed my surprise at boomers whose goal is to spend every single dollar they have earned, to purposefully leave their children nothing. Seems a bit selfish, but then again, at least it reflects the understanding that money will not buy one's way into eternal bliss.

Throughout the book, the character Edgar Derby is mentioned. He is found guilty of stealing a teapot in the aftermath of the fire bombing of Dresden which killed more people than the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, and is shot by a firing squad. 

I imagine the irony of such an act was discussed in those high school classes I attended, and perhaps in today's classes as well. Or is the correct word sarcasm?

The United States military recently blew up a boat traveling from Venezuela to our borders, allegedly carrying drugs. While there may be proof that there was a crime about to be committed, it seems that whomever was on that boat was guilty until proven innocent. Except there was no chance to prove that innocence. 

For a country that values freedom, and the rule of law, and our alleged superior system of justice, there was remarkably little coverage in the media, and very little outrage. A national shrug.

Yet today, a conservative firebrand, someone who has openly expressed anti-LGBTQ and transgender views, who has called for a reversal of gay marriage rights, who considers the passing of the Civil Rights Act to have been a travesty, who supported unproven claims about the 2020 election being stolen, etc, etc, was assassinated in Utah. Since then, he has been lauded by no less than the president as a fine person, loved by ALL (his caps). 

I would imagine that the majority of people he believes (his) God hates didn't love him. Nor should anyone who believes in the phrase "all men are created equal", or even the advice "love thy neighbor as yourself."

Yet, even on MSNBC there are laments that we must not allow political violence to take hold, that there is no place for it in a country such as ours, that all must condemn such barbaric actions.

Unless of course, it is directed at people like those in that boat that was blown away. 

Or against the Capitol police officers who were brutalized on January 6th.

Or against the tens of thousands of Palestinians that have been slaughtered, a large percentage by American bombs. 

Or against any of the "others" that are so easily identified by people like Charlie Kirk, or Donald Trump. People who are now denied medical care, are being kicked out of the military, and who are bullied to such a degree that upwards of 40 percent of them have tried to kill themselves. 

Oh, and by the way. Two students were shot at a school in Denver today. There have already been dozens of shootings in schools and it is only September, but again, a national shrug. 

I don't know if Charlie himself said this, or just agreed with the sentiment but more than once he chided those trying to restrict 2nd Amendment rights, stating that it was ludicrous to think that in a country with such rights there would be no children deaths, or deaths of any innocent person. And that it was worth those sad but inevitable deaths to guarantee those gun rights.

Perhaps we should chalk his death up to that very same belief. Or just shrug, as we do at so many other senseless deaths.

And so it goes. 

 

 

 

Klaatu

 A few days ago, I watched the original "The Day The Earth Stood Still" released in 1951. It was quite different from the more recent version starring Keanu Reeves.

In the original, Earth was visited by Klaatu and Gort to tell us that our foray into atomic weapons was dangerous, to us, but will not be tolerated by the other species of the universe who fear we will expand our use of such weapons beyond our own planet. 

In the remake, Klaatu fears that we are destroying our home planet, and that given Earth is relatively unique in the universe, it must be saved from us.

In both cases, humanity is threatened with destruction if we don't change our actions.

Interestingly, the original ends with Klaatu, having been killed by man yet revived by his robot, after issueing his warning that should we not change, we will be destroyed, flies off in his ship with that ominous warning ringing in the ears of all who were present. 

It is a far less hopeful ending compared to the remake where Klaatu sacrifices himself once he is convinced that humanity is worth saving, is worth being given a second chance.

The other glaring difference in the versions is that the Earth actually stands still in the original. Klaatu is asked to perform some kind of miracle that will demonstrate his power, and he literally stops the flow of energy for thirty minutes. All cars and trains are immobile. Phones don't work. There is a scene where a secretary tells her boss that the phone is out, and he tells her to call the phone company to get if fixed. Not sure if that levity is supposed to indicate the lack of reasoning that humanity has shown to Klaatu, or just the typical attitude of a male boss who expects his woman secretary to provide him with what he requires to conduct business, but regardless, it is a scene of levity that stood out to me, considering the gravity of destruction that Klaatu was trying to convey.

Interestingly, the point is made that energy still flowed in hospitals so that real people did not suffer. 

One similarity between the two versions is that in both, a woman is the first to understand the importance of Klaatu's message. I easily believe that this was purposeful in the remake, but have to wonder about the thinking behind those who made the 1951 version when women were not exactly valued for their logic and intelligence. Still, perhaps that was the point. That humanity needed a burst of understanding, perhaps empathy, to counter its headlong path down the sometimes sterile world of technology, and its advancements, for good and bad.

In some ways, I like the original better. We aren't left off the hook like in the remake. We are presented with the choice, and even though the choice is to change or die, it is our choice, and not the choice of Klaatu who stops the destruction of Earth.

Of course, were there any reality to the premise of the original, those who had sent Klaatu would have returned by now. Whether to reward us for not having sent any atomic weapons into space, or to punish us for continuing to build such destructive weapons, and for using the threat of their use against other citizens of our planet is certainly debatable.

I wrote my own version of this concept, a little over three years ago. Here is a link to that story. 

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2022/06/the-universal-guild.html 

-----

By the way, if you google Klaatu, you will find a reference to a Canadian band specifically named after the lead character in "The Day..." Apparently for a hot minute there was speculation that the albums they released were actually recorded by the Beatles as the style was similar, at least to some. Of course, there were many who wished the Beatles would reunite, especially in the 1970's, so it is no wonder that so many fans would respond to rumors and innuendo. In fact, the promoters of the band did not deny such speculation, at least until it was definitely proven otherwise.

 

Empathy Revisited

Someone told me recently that I was not as upset as she is about the attack on women's reproductive rights because I am a man.

Initially, I was very hurt by this statement. While I know that I can be condescending to people at times, and that I often use (or try to use) humor to offset difficult or stressful situations and experiences, I was of the opinion that I possessed a fairly advanced sense of empathy for others. That I recognized that "do unto others..." was not just a nice moral guideline, but a trait that advanced society as a whole, or at least did not allow us to easily descend into depths featuring such horrific events as the Holocaust.

However, the fact remains that I am a white male and that I have had the advantages of that simple description (other than the occasional prejudices in the labor market which I experienced when I had mid-back length hair) throughout my life. 

I have won the birth lottery by being born in a country with as much opportunity built into its systems as any other, and being born a white male to boot, a two word category that includes a virtual lock on the power and resources of this very fine country, especially during the first 150 years of its inception. 

Even today, the percentage of the rich and powerful white man, whether in politics or business, exceeds by many times the actual percentage within the entire population.

So, is she right? 

Before answering that question, I thought I would provide links to the other times when I posted about the Birth Lottery. The original, in spring 2010, the revisit in May 2013, and a commentary about indigenous children in June 2023.

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2010/04/birth-lottery.html

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-birth-lottery-revisited.html 

https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2023/06/the-birth-lottery-and-native-americans.html 

--- 

So, I think the answer is that she is right, but also wrong. 

I think that in the aggregate, history shows that it is possible for white men to have empathy for other demographics. After all, the 19th Amendment, which recently celebrated its 125th anniversary since passage, was passed by white men in America's Congress. As was the Civil Rights Legislation, although there were some women and people of color representing the electorate in Congress by then.

Do those accomplishments erase the decades of suppression, the years of brutality? Certainly not. But perhaps those actions, while tacitly endorsed by the majority by the power of not seeing, were only perpetrated by a small percentage of individuals. That in general, white men were able to empathize, to improve life for people not like themselves, despite the actions of some very horrible individuals.

Sadly, that would have been my answer in the past. Perhaps even the recent past, but past nonetheless.

Now, however, I believe that the script has flipped. With the advent of Trump's white man victimization tour, it no longer feels that in general we are capable of putting ourselves into the shoes of our fellow Americans who are non-white and/or non-male, let alone the vast populations across the planet who are also deemed less than human. 

There are certainly specific white men, millions of them in fact, who have not lost touch with their ability to empathize. But whereas I believe it was a small set of men who were responsible for the rampant prejudice and withholding of opportunities for women and people of color, too many white men today accept that undocumented immigrants should be rounded up and incarcerated, and that women should not have the choice to carry to term or abort their pregnancy. 

We should know better, but have chosen to fail to recognize that what is going on is the exact opposite of what our alleged Judeo-Christian ethic teaches, what Christ's sermons instruct us as to how to behave towards one another.

Men who otherwise love their families, have worked hard all their life, pay their taxes, go to church, yet are seemingly incapable of accepting that part of the reason for their success is their race and gender, and the advantages that have come there way, through no effort on their part, but just simply because they won the birth lottery. 

And then discount that advantage when opining about those who didn't.

Now, of course, they don't look at it that way. They prefer to believe that all their accomplishments occurred due to their work ethic, or intelligence, both of which could also be included as traits we inherit, that we are provided by the randomness of the birth lottery. 

The funny thing is, they are right, to a degree, as not every white male achieves success or fame or wealth, so they do deserve credit for "making it". I don't begrudge them that, even congratulate them for their accomplishments.  

But that doesn't change the simple fact that for most of history, men have enjoyed greater benefits simply due to their gender, and that white men in particular, for all of America's existence.

And that the failure to recognize this edge equates to a severe shortage or empathy. 

So, where do we go from here?

Is this just a temporary swing of the pendulum away from the progress that has been made in the last 100 years? 

If we consider the whole of history, the ebbs and flows that have transpired during the course of humanity, then it seems obvious that this is just another blip. 

That, like the horrors of WW1 and WW2, when soldiers as well as civilians were just so many pawns in the struggle for power, and the goal of victory, no matter what the cost, we eventually ended those conflicts, and now countries that were once enemies, are now friends.

That, like the atrocities of the various genocides that have occurred throughout the globe, the killings ceased, just as we hope that they might end soon in Palestine and Ukraine.

That the slow progression of humanity's spiritual growth will somehow get us through these crises, so that one day we might look upon today's horrors with the same rational that allows us to consider past human against human violence as part of our communal growth.

Maybe.

The Atlantic devoted much of the August edition to the history of nuclear weapons. We recently celebrated (is that the right word) the detonation of two atomic bombs over cities in Japan. Since then eight other countries have developed and possess these weapons, and are far more powerful than the ones used in 1945. 

One of the articles discussed a sort of malaise that the writer believes has evolved about the possibility of an actual nuclear war taking place. That, since the days of practicing an attack by diving under our desks at school, and the proliferation of backyard bunkers, there seems to be a belief that since it has happened yet, it won't happen at all. 

Or perhaps it is because there are so many other doomsday scenarios in the public consciousness that seem so inevitable.

Regardless, the articles together remind us that our weapons of mass destruction are vastly more dangerous than in 1945, that the rhetoric of us vs them is no less vitriolic than 80 years ago, and that the time allotted for a president to decide to launch or not is minutes, which means that such a decision about whether a perceived attack is real or not requires an even stronger understanding of the specifics of the widespread destruction that will occur. 

It certainly needs more thought than how can I show how strong a man I am, as the current lodger in the White House seems obsessed with. 

When the leader of our country expresses very little of this trait, it can embolden those with none themselves to lash out at the "others", while tempering those who possess even a modicum of empathy to question whether such a trait is weak, or woke.

Empathy.

For the record then, it is certainly possible that the critique that I am not as upset about the attacks of women's reproductive rights as a woman might be is valid, not because I am not upset, after all, I have a daughter of reproductive age, but because I am not a woman. 

While I can still advocate for pro choice policies, I will never find myself in a position where I have to decide to carry a fetus to term, or abort it. 

Which means that all I have is my ability to empathize; and to assume that such a decision should be left to the person/people most involved.

Similarly, I have never left my home country, traveled hundreds if not thousand of miles to a new land with limited understanding of its language, customs, laws, but I can empathize for those who make such a choice, and give them the benefit of the doubt as to their motives.

In the end then, it is only empathy that allows us to accept someone's decision to do something that we might disagree with, or not understand, or never do ourselves, let alone when that person's religion, race, gender, sexual orientation, etc, differs from our own.

And is it empathy that I find lacking in the policies and actions of our country under the leadership of President Trump and his allies, a lack that makes me ashamed for America.