Wednesday, August 14, 2019
Opening paragraphs..............
It was Beatrice Kenton who first questioned the identity of the new girl. She did so in the staff room, at a quarter past three, on a Friday in late November. The mood was festive and faintly rebellious, as was the case most Friday afternoons. It is a truism that no profession welcomes the end of the workweek with more anticipation that teachers—even teachers at elite institutions such as the International School of Geneva. The chatter was of plans for the weekend. Beatrice abstained, for she had none, a fact she did not wish to share with her colleagues. She was fifty-two, unmarried, and with no family to speak of other than a rich aunt who granted her refuge each summer at her estate in Norfolk. Her weekend routing consisted of a trip to the Migros and a walk along the lakeshore for the sake of her waistline, which, like the universe, was ever expanding. First period Monday was an oasis in an otherwise Empty Quarter of solitude.
-Daniel Silva, The New Girl
Fifty years ago......................at Woodstock
Joe Cocker.............................With A Little Help From My Friends
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
I would vote........................
...........................................for some sustained incremental tinkering, before embarking on some grand plan:
Such problems are easier to diagnose than to cure. Reforming American healthcare will require an almighty effort. With politics gridlocked and soaking in lobbyist money, it’s not obvious that the US government is capable of running the kind of healthcare system that works elsewhere — even if Congress decides to try. But try it must, because the status quo is a tragedy.
Doesn't matter the stimulus............
................I have a hard time subscribing to this reaction:
Yet now I find myself thinking: I don’t care. Do it incompetently, but do something.”
Fifty years ago...................at Woodstock
Arlo Guthrie........................................Coming Into Los Angeles
(music starts around 2:26)
Monday, August 12, 2019
Fifty years ago....................at Woodstock
Arlo Guthrie....................................Walking Down The Line
Sunday, August 11, 2019
Opening paragraphs...............
Three tellers were working the morning Isabel Roland was kidnapped. Clark Davos, a sweet guy whose third baby had just been born; Dana Chin, who was funny and wore fabulous shoes; and Isabelle, the youngest teller on duty. Isabel began working at the bank a little over a year ago, three months before her mother died. Five customers were in line, but more customers entered the bank every few seconds.
-Robert Crais, A Dangerous Man
Seth Godin..................
............................................Sometimes excerpting from one of his blog posts is just not enough:
Plato believes....................
Plato believes that a nation cannot be strong unless it believes in God. A mere cosmic force, or first cause, or elan vital, that was not a person, could hardly inspire hope, or devotion, or sacrifice; it could not offer comfort to the hearts of the distressed, nor courage to embattled souls. But a living God can do all this, and can stir or frighten the self-seeking individualist into some moderation of his greed, some control of his passion. All the more so if if to belief in God is added belief in personal immortality: the hope of another life gives us courage to meet our own death, and to bear with the death of our loved ones; we are twice armed if we fight with faith. Granted that none of the beliefs can be demonstrated; that God may be after all only the personified ideal of our love and our hope, and that the soul is like the music of the lyre, and dies with the instrument that gave it form: yet surely (so runs the argument, Pascal-like,of the Phaedo) it will do us not harm to believe, and it may do us and our children immeasurable good.
-Will Durant, The Story of Philosophy
Fifty years ago...................At Woodstock
Tim Hardin....................................Simple Song of Freedom
Disappointment........................
Christianity has to be disappointing, precisely because it is not a mechanism for accomplishing all our human ambitions and aspirations, it is a mechanism for subjecting all things to the will of God. The first disciples were disappointed because Jesus turned out not to be the kind of Messiah they wanted.
-Simon Tugwell O. P., Ways of Imperfection: An Exploration of Christian Spirituality
Saturday, August 10, 2019
Opening paragraphs..........................
'You know I don't like to meddle in things,' Conte Falier told Brunetti. 'But since, in this case, he's so close to me, I feel I don't have a choice, not really.' Brunetti, seated opposite his father-in-law in one of the over-ripe armchairs that filled Palazzo Falier, had been listening to the older man for some time, aware of how difficult il Conte was finding it to begin telling the story he obviously wanted Brunetti to hear.
-Donna Leon, Unto Us a Son Is Given: A Commissario Guido Brunetti Mystery
(If you haven't started reading Leon's Brunetti stories, well, start now. Much enjoyment awaits you.)
The autodidact..................
I had never heard of John Bernard Flannagan,
American sculptor,
until I found him on page 961
of the single-volume encyclopedia I have been reading
at the rate of one page each day.
He was so poor, according to the entry
he could not afford the good, quarried marble
and instead had to carve animals
out of the fieldstones he gathered
until he committed suicide in 1942,
the year, I can’t help thinking, I turned one.
American sculptor,
until I found him on page 961
of the single-volume encyclopedia I have been reading
at the rate of one page each day.
He was so poor, according to the entry
he could not afford the good, quarried marble
and instead had to carve animals
out of the fieldstones he gathered
until he committed suicide in 1942,
the year, I can’t help thinking, I turned one.
Of course, I know what flannel is,
but that French flannel is napped on only one side
is new to me and a reminder that
no matter what size the aquarium of one’s learning,
another colored pebble can always be dropped in.
but that French flannel is napped on only one side
is new to me and a reminder that
no matter what size the aquarium of one’s learning,
another colored pebble can always be dropped in.
Tonight a fog blows by the windows,
and a mist falls through the porch lights
as my index finger descends from flat-coated retriever
to flatfish, those sideways creatures—
turbot, plaice, flounder, sole—
all swimming through the dark with close-set eyes,
toothless, twisted mouths,
and a preference for warm, shallow water.
as my index finger descends from flat-coated retriever
to flatfish, those sideways creatures—
turbot, plaice, flounder, sole—
all swimming through the dark with close-set eyes,
toothless, twisted mouths,
and a preference for warm, shallow water.
But this is nothing new to me.
No dots are connected in the vast grid
of my autodidacticism.
No branch is pruned in the forest of my ignorance,
which is why I am stepping over the Flathead River
of Canada and Montana's Flathead Lake
and coming to rest on the Flathead Indians
who never actually practiced heat-flattening
I am disappointed to learn,
but got their name from neighboring tribes
who shaped the fronts of their own heads
to achieve a pointed appearance,
which is how I hope to look
when the entire contents of this book
press against the inside of my high forehead.
What a relief to emerge
from all this flatheadedness and land on
Flaubert, son of a surgeon, victim of a nervous
disorder, and pursuer of le mot juste.
Yet the entry for the supreme master of the realistic novel
is no taller than a filtered cigarette
and hardly half the size of the piscatory word-puff
then envelops the subject of flatfish.
Posterity is, indeed, a cruel and savagely attired mistress,
but my own slow, sentimental education
must continue with the revelation
that while there were three emperors and
a Catholic patriarch named Flavian,
there is only one Dan Flavin, another sculptor,
who works, the bottom of the narrow column tells me,
in the medium of fluorescent lights,
luminous tubes, strangely configured.
The hour is late as I mark my place
with a playing card and close the book in my lap.
A cool vapor flows over the windowsills.
Appalachia is behind me, Napoleon lies ahead,
and I will save for tomorrow the subject of flax
(the chief source of fiber and seed oil
from prehistoric times to the development of cotton).
It is time to float on the waters of the night.
Time to wrap my arms around this book
and press it to my chest, life preserver
in a sea of unremarkable men and women,
anonymous faces on the street,
a hundred thousand unalphabetized things
a million forgotten hours.
-Billy Collins, "What I Learned Today"
Fifty years ago...................At Woodstock
Tim Hardin..............................................If I Were A Carpenter
Friday, August 9, 2019
Fifty years ago.....................at Woodstock
The Band............................................................Tears of Rage
Thursday, August 8, 2019
Be not conformed....................
For years King had felt an affinity with Saint Paul. He likened his own "kitchen conversion" in January 1956 to Paul's blinding vision on the road to Damascus in the first century C. E. The Greek Jew, like King, heard Jesus speaking to him. The heavenly light was so bright that Paul could not see in an earthly way for three days. King identified with the ex-persecutor's relentless persecution—"tried for heresy at Jerusalem, jailed at Philippi, beaten at Thessalonica, mobbed at Ephesus, depressed at Athens," and imprisoned and executed in Rome.
Not long after King's own vision he preached a sermon at Dexter in the persona of Paul, a letter to American Christians. Martin as Paul urged his audience to "be not conformed to this world," but to transform themselves into the divine image, a colony of heaven, to being by refusing to conform to banal evil. At least since his Albany jailing King had thought about writing a letter from jail as Paul had done. Now he transmuted the despair he felt reading the clergymen's letter into a furious burst of intellectual energy, to craft a Pauling epistle that sharpened themes he had previewed in his 1956 sermon.
Like Paul of Tarsus, the Birmingham inmate penned an urgent letter for a particular place and time that took on universal meaning for all times and places.
-Stewart Burns, To The Mountaintop: Martin Luther King Jr.'s Sacred Mission To Save America 1955-1968
King's amazing letter is here
Intentionally.................................
We become masters of our calendar because we need to regain control of the time that is given to us. We start simple: just planing our coming week, setting aside a few hours towards our goal somewhere in those seven days. Then we move on to a day, carving out those twenty-four hours. . . .
To live reactively is a terrible thing. Reactive living is thoughtless living. It's a matter of responding to stimuli. Time is running out. Gotta do this! Gotta do that! . . .
We master our calendar so that we can manipulate time; we manipulate time so that we can start living intentionally, knowing where we want to go.
-Akbar Gbajabiamila, Everyone Can Be A Ninja: Find Your Inner Warrior And Achieve Your Dreams
Labels:
books,
Choices,
Control,
Habits,
Intent,
it's a plan,
Responsibility,
Time
Instead....................
"Instead, I’m beginning to understand the importance of living in the questions"
-Julian Summerhayes, as culled from here
via
Fifty years ago...............at Woodstock
The Band.............................................................The Weight
Wednesday, August 7, 2019
Is it a stretch to say that he is trying...
.................to do what Ronald Reagan did to the U.S.S.R? Just wondering.
"When would you ever expect the leadership of a democracy to be able to outlast an authoritarian government in terms of living with unhappiness from its citizens?"
-Warren Meyer, as extracted from here
Broadening horizons......................
................................Allen Toussaint. Who knew? #14 on this list. I'd easily trade a cigar and a single malt for that CD.
The view from my office...................
It was a great day to play two. The sun was shining over Cleveland as the Tribe swept the Texas Rangers, 2-0 and 5-1. Hard work, but somebody has to do it. Thanks Mark.
Fifty years ago.........................at Woodstock
Stills and Young........................................................Mr. Soul
Tuesday, August 6, 2019
Mimetic desire..........................
One of the most profound intellectual influences on Peter Thiel is a French thinker named René Girard, whom he met while at Stanford and whose funeral he would eventually speak at in 2015. Girard's theory of mimetic desire holds that people have no idea what they want, or what they value, so they are drawn to what other people want. They want what other people have. They covet. It's this, Girard says, that is the source of almost all the conflict in the world.
-Ryan Holiday, Conspiracy: A True Story of Power, Sex, and a Billionaire's Secret Plot To Destroy a Media Empire
The Second Amendment and "gun control".......
"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."
On December 15, 1791 the Bill of Rights (the given name for the first ten amendments to the Constitution) was ratified. Many a debate has been had over the interesting way the Second Amendment was worded. We are in the midst of another one.
Seems from here that the Framers of the Constitution built into their system the solution to gun control. Don't like what the Second Amendment offers you? Get Congress to approve the wording of a new amendment and have 75% of the state legislatures ratify it.
Difficult to craft an amendment that a vast majority of the citizens and states of the U. S. of A. will support? Absolutely. So do the hard work anyway. It is the only way.
On seeds..........................
36. Observe how all things are continually being born of change; teach yourself to see that Nature's highest happiness lies in changing the things that are, and forming new thinks after their kind. Whatever is, is in some sense the seed of what is to emerge from it. Nothing can become a philosopher less that to imagine that the seed can only be something that is planted in the earth or the womb.
-Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book Four
Fifty years ago.................at Woodstock
Crosby, Stills & Nash................................Helplessly Hoping
Monday, August 5, 2019
Do you have a "to do" list?
Do you also have a "stop doing" list?
Most of us lead busy but undisciplined lives. We have ever-expanding "to do" lists, trying to build momentum by doing, doing, doing—and doing more. It rarely works. Those who built the good-to-great companies, however, made as much use of "stop doing" lists as "to do" lists. They displayed a remarkable discipline to unplug all sorts of extraneous junk.
-Jim Collins, as excerpted from Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap . . . and Others Don't
Wouldn't an even higher................
...........................stage be when we actually begin to control them?
"The highest stage in moral culture at which we can arrive, is when we recognise that we ought to control our thoughts."
-Charles Darwin
It wouldn't hurt us............................
..........................to remember that the history of America encompasses more than the thirteen original colonies:
On August 15, 1779, the new governor gathered an army of six hundred men, including 259 Indians, and set off in search of Cuerno Verde. To avoid detection, he took a different and more mountainous route then the one used by all previous Spanish expeditions, crossing the front range of the Rockies near South Park. He went ultimately north and east, onto the elevated plains in present-day eastern Colorado, where he found the Indian camp. Though most of its warriors and the chief were absent, Anza attacked anyway; the Indians fled. It took the Spanish nine miles to ride them down, and another three miles to subdue them. They killed eighteen—presumably old men, boys, and women—and took thirty women and thirty-four children prisoner. They got all five hundred horses. From the prisoners, Anza learned that Cuerno Verde was off raiding in New Mexico but was returning soon for a grand feast and celebration.
Anza waited for him, surprised him on the trail in Colorado near a place that is still known as Greenhorn Peak, and in a piece of brilliant battlefield strategy, engineered one of the great Spanish victories in North America. He had ventured into the heart of Comancheria, to the very homeland of the Comanche, where countless others had perished, and where they had never been beaten in a major fight, and he had triumphed. Anza wrote later that he believed he owed his victory in part to Cuerno Verde's arrogance. After Cuerno Verde attacked the six-hundred-strong Spanish battle line with his bodyguard of fifty warriors, Anza theorized that "his death was caused by his own intrepidity and the contempt he wished to show our people, being vaunted by the many successes that they have always obtained over us because of the irregularities with which they have always warred. . . .From this should be deduced the arrogance, presumption and pride which characterized this barbarian, and which he manifested until the last moment in various ways, disdaining even to load his own musket. . . ." Only a handful of warriors escaped capture or death. The Spanish suffered only one casualty. Anza and his lancers launche other attacks into Comancheria, and though none was nearly as effective as the one against Cuerno Verde, he soon had their full attention.
What Anza did next was equally unconventional. Other governors, flushed with such success, would likely have tried to destroy the rest of the Comanche, in spite of the fact that there were more than twenty thousand of them on the plains (or, according to Anza's own inflated estimate, thirty thousand). But Anza was not trying to beat the Comanches, just scare them enough so that a diplomatic accommodation could be made. Considering what had happened in New Mexico and what was even now happening in Texas, he had what sounded like a wildly implausible goal: He wanted to make friends and allies of them.
This he did. He gathered Comanche chiefs for peace talks, insisting that he speak with all of the bands that touched the western perimeter of the plains, and eventually insisting on appointing a single chief to speak for all the bans, something that had never happened before. Anza treated the Comanches as equals, did not threaten their hunting grounds, and refused to try to declare sovereignty over them. He offered them trade. They liked and respected him. In one of the more remarkable diplomatic pirouettes ever seen on the border, Anza then managed to concoct an overweening solution to all his problems. He somehow managed not only to get the Comanches to sign a peace treaty, but also to bind them with their enemies the Utes in alliance with Spain against their bitterest foes, the Apaches. Then, for the coup de grace, he took this combined force of Spanish, Ute, and Comanche and used it to force the Navajo into the compact.
Odder still, Anza's treaty worked. . . .
-S. C. Gwynne, Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History
Fifty years ago......................at Woodstock
Crosby, Stills & Nash..............Marrakesh Express and Blackbird
Sunday, August 4, 2019
Be careful what you wish for.........
Peter Thiel, whom you will also come to know, has famously become associated with one question, which he uses interviews and over long dinners: "What important truth do very few people agree with you on?"
I'll give you mine to close this short preface: Perhaps we have too few conspiracies, not too many. Too little scheming, rather than too much. What would happen if more people took up plotting, coordinating how to eliminate what they believe are negative forces and obstacles, and tried to wield power in an attempt to change the world? We could almost always use more boldness, and less complacency. We could use less telegraphing of our intentions or ambitions and see what secrecy, patience, and planning might accomplish. We could use a little more craziness and disruption, even from the people we disagree with.
This book is my homage to that complicated idea, told in part through the complicated story of one almost unbelievable conspiratorial act.
Please use it wisely.
-Ryan Holiday, from his short preface to Conspiracy: A True Story Of Power, Sex, And A Billionaire's Secret Plot To Destroy A Media Empire
A civil religion.................
But Williamson has more in common with President Trump than she — and indeed many voters — might admit, and it’s not just that both have used personal celebrity as a springboard into politics. At their core, both are also prime representatives of one of the most important and formative spiritual trends in American life: the notion that we can transform our material circumstances through faith in our personal willpower. Trump’s authoritarian cult of personality and Williamson’s woo-inflected belief in the power of “self-actualization” both come from the quintessentially American conviction that the quickest and surest route to Ultimate Reality can be found within ourselves. . . .
-------------------------------------
On the surface, Americans are more religiously divided than ever. White evangelicals overwhelmingly support Trump; meanwhile, the ranks of the religiously unaffiliated, who tend to lean left, continue to grow. But many Americans of almost every political and spiritual affiliation share the inheritance of New Thought ideology: a distrust of institutions and experts, a reliance on personal intuition and feeling, and a conviction that “self-actualization” will lead inexorably to a bigger house, a better job, a banging body.
While it’s highly unlikely that Williamson will win the Democratic presidential nomination, her presence on the campaign trail, and Trump’s presence in the White House, serve as reminders that the ethos of Quimby and Peale thrives on both sides of the political aisle.
It may not be the “oneness” Williamson has in mind. But it’s the closest thing we have to a civil religion.
-Tara Isabella Burton, as cut and pasted from here. Read the whole thing.via
I suspend judgment........................
Like the others, Skepticism amounted to a form of therapy. This, at least, was true of Pyrrhonian Skepticism, the type originated by the Greek philosopher Pyrrho, who died about 275 BC, and later developed more rigorously by Sextus Empiricus in the second century AD. ("Dogmatic" or "Academic" Skepticism, the other kind, was less far-reaching.) Some idea of the bizarre effect Pyrrhonism had on people is apparent from the story of how Henri Estienne, Montaigne's near-contemporary and first French translator of Sextus Empiricus, reacted to his encounter with Sextus's Hypotyposes. Working in his library one day, but feeling too ill and tired to do his usual work, he found a copy while browsing through an old box of manuscripts. As soon as he started reading, he found himself laughing so heartily that his weariness left him and his intellectual energy returned. Another scholar of the period, Gentian Hervet, had a similar experience. He too came across Sextus by chance in his employer's library, and felt that a world of lightness and pleasure had opened up before him. The work did not so much instruct or convince its readers as give them the giggles.
A modern reader perusing the Hypotyposes might wonder what was so funny. It does contain some sprightly examples, as philosophy books often do, but it does not seem wildly comic. It is not obvious why it cured both Estienne and Hervet of their ennui—or why it had such an impact on Montaigne, who would find it the perfect antidote to Raymond Sebond and his solemn, inflated ideas of human importance.
The key to the trick is the revelation that nothing in life need be taken seriously. Pyrrhonism does not even take itself seriously. Ordinary dogmatic Skepticism asserts the impossibility of knowledge; it is summed up in Socrates's remark: "All I know is that I know nothing." Pyrrhonian Skepticism starts from this point, but then adds, in effect, "and I'm not even sure about that." Having stated its one philosophical principle, it turns in a circle and gobbles itself up, leaving only a puff of absurdity.
Pyrrhonians accordingly deal with all the problems life can throw at them by means of a single word which acts as a shorthand for this maneuver: in Greek, epekho. It means "I suspend judgment." Or, in a different rendition given in French by Montaigne himself, je souliens: "I hold back." This phrase conquers all enemies; it undoes them, so that they disintegrate into atoms before your eyes.
-Sarah Bakewell, How To Live - 0r - A Life of Montaigne: In One Questions And Twenty Attempts At An Answer
Opening paragraphs.....................
We all make mistakes, but starting the Third World War would have been a rather large one. To this day, I still maintain it was not entirely my fault. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
-Frederick Forsyth, The Outsider: My Life in Intrigue
Fifty years ago..................at Woodstock
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young..............................Wooden Ships
Saturday, August 3, 2019
Meddling...............................
President Kennedy, during his first months in office, spent long hours on the exotic disturbances in Laos—primarily because just before his inauguration, Eisenhower had told him that Laos was the key to all Southeast Asia. Once they had taken Laos, the Communists, he said, could bring "unbelievable pressure" on Thailand, Cambodia, and South Vietnam. If the situation reached the point where other countries could not be persuaded to act with us, we should be willing "as a last desperate hope, to intervene unilaterally." Kennedy's interest in Laos was no doubt further stimulated by the natural desire of all new Presidents to show their skill at statecraft. Laos was at the time the only game in town—the only genuine shooting war, even though little actual shooting was ever heard.
To me, Laos and Vietnam were all part of the Southeast Asia drama that had begun long before. Refusing to sign the 1954 settlements that made possible the French withdrawal, Secretary John Foster Dulles had the preempted the French role. With his addiction for formalistic paper solutions, he had devised the South East Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO)—a so-called mutual security arrangement the included the United States, Great Britain, France, Australia, and New Zealand as well as three Asian states: Thailand, Pakistan, and the Philippines. By a supplementary protocol, the signatory states of SEATO pledged themselves to protect three nonsignatory nations: South Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. Through Dulles's astigmatic vision, Laos loomed large as a "bulwark against Communism" and a "bastion of freedom," and by the end of 1960, we had provided the Laotian government with nearly $300 million, of which 85% was to help build an army.
Not much of an army was ever built, however, for the Laotian generals and civilian bureaucrats concentrated on stealing the new wealth. That left a Viet Minh-directed group, the Pathet Lao, to establish a firm hold on the villages and countryside. Old friendships and family played a role; the leader of the Pathet Lao, Prince Souphanouvong, was closely tied to Ho Chi Ming, while the regular government of Laos in Vientiane was headed by his half-brother Souvanna Phouma. In October 1957, the two half-brothers negotiated the so-called Vientiane Agreements, which provided a neutralized Laos under a coalition government—with the Pathet Lao represented in both the army and cabinet.
That infuriated Dulles, who thought coalitions with Communists a halfway house to perdition, so he made use of his own family ties by persuading his brother, CIA Chief, Allen W. Dulles, to force out Prince Souphanouvong and replace him with a politician bearing the even more unlikely name of Phoui Sananikone. Then the CIA conjured up from France a Laotian military officer named General Phoumi Nosavan; sixteen months later, Phoumi overthrew Phoui (which could have been either a significant event or a typographical error). Five months after that, Souphanouvong escaped from jail to the North, and the Pathet Lao resumed the civil war.
Phoumi in turn was displaced by a young paratroop captain, Kong Le, who seized power and asked Prince Souvanna to form a new government that, as before, would be neutralist. Meanwhile, the Defense Department continued to whoop it up for Phoumi, who, with American encouragement, took the Royal Laotian Army to Savannakhet in September 1960, where he proclaimed a new government and denounced Souvanna. Washington promptly responded by sending him American military aid, though continuing to give economic assistance to the Souvanna government in Vientiane. Then, in December, shortly after the American elections, Phoumi marched on Vientaine. Souvanna fled to Cambodia, where he made a deal with Souphanouvong. Kong Le, prudently taking along a huge store of American supplies, joined the Pathet Lao. That ended the first act of a preposterous long-running serial that, more than anything else, resembled a Kung Fu movie.
-George W. Ball, The Past Has Another Pattern: Memoirs
We should know our history.................
Ten years after the United States had withdrawn its last man, ignominiously, from Saigon, the journalist Joseph Lelyveld observed acutely, "When we talk about Vietnam, we are seldom talking bout the country of that name or the situation of the people who live there. Usually we are talking about ourselves. Probably we always were, which is one conspicuous reason our leaders found it so hard to shape a strategy that fit us and our chosen terrain." There are many ways of explaining why the United States came to grief so spectacularly in Vietnam. But the plain fact of it will always be astounding. The United States was not only five times more populous than Vietnam, its economy was seventy-six times larger. In 1964 there were only around ten countries in the world, aside from sub-Saharan Africa, that were poorer than Vietnam in terms of per capita gross domestic product, at a time when the United States cam in second only to Switzerland. Technologically the gap between the two countries—not least in the realm of armaments—was so large as to be nigh immeasurable. Yet America lost. Small wonder the Vietnam War became a trauma not just for those men who served in it but for all Americans of that generation.
Robert McNamara, who was secretary of defense throughout the period of military escalation, looked back in shame on at least six different failures for which he took at least some measure of responsibility. There was the failure to consult allies, despite the existence of the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) since 1954; the failure to appreciate how a people in arms could withstand and overcome the most sophisticated weaponry; the failure to see the limits of economic and military aid in the process of state building; the failure to uphold democratic principles in the governance of South Vietnam; the failure to understand the complex relationship between the application of military force and the achievement of political objectives; and above all, the failure of the American decision-making process itself. To explain this, McNamara blamed lack of time, lack of institutional memory within the government, and "the incremental nature of decision making about intervention in Vietnam [which] never allowed policy makers an opportunity to step back."
Another member of the flagellant order of the former Kennedy-Johnson officials was McGeorge Bundy. In a memorandum written as late as May 1967—a year after he had left the administration to run the Ford Foundation—Bundy could still assure the president, "The fact that South Vietnam has not been lost and is not going to be lost is a fact of truly massive importance in the history of Asia, the Pacific and the U. S." Nearly thirty years later Bundy added a simple marginal note; "McGB all wrong." His explanation for the American failure was a basic underestimation of "the endurance of the enemy."
-Niall Ferguson, Kissinger: 1923-1968: The Idealist
Fifty years ago................at Woodstock
Crosby, Stills & Nash....................................Suite: Judy Blue Eyes
Friday, August 2, 2019
Fifty years ago......................at Woodstock
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.......................Long Time Gone
It's been a long time comin'
It's goin' to be a long time gone
And it appears to be a long
Appears to be a long
Appears to be a long time
Yes, a long, long, long, long time before the dawn
Turn, turn any corner
Hear, you must hear what the people say
You know there's something that's goin' on around here
That surely, surely, surely won't stand the light of day, no
And it appears to be a long (yes it does)
Appears to be a long (mm)
Appears to be a long time
Such a long, long time before the dawn
Speak out, you got to speak out against the madness
You got to speak your mind, if you dare
But don't—no, don't no—try to get yourself elected
If you do you had better cut your hair, mm
And it appears to be a long (yes it does)
Appears to be a long (mm)
Appears to be a long time
Such a long, long, long, long time before the dawn
Thursday, August 1, 2019
Building blocks..........................
It's a thrilling story of invention: the young wizard of Menlo Park has a flash of inspiration, and within a few years his idea is lighting up the world. The problem with this story is that people had been inventing incandescent light for eighty years before Edison turned his mind to it. The lightbulb involves three fundamental elements: some kind of filament hat glows when an electrical current runs through it, some mechanism to keep the filament from burning out to quickly, and a means of supplying electric power to start the reaction in the first place. In 1802, the British chemist Humphry Davy had attached a platinum filament to an early electric battery, causing it to burn brightly for a few minutes. By the 1840's dozens of separate inventors were working on variations of the lightbulb. The first patent was issued in 1841 to an Englishman named Frederick de Moleyns. The historian Arthur A. Bright compiled a list of lightbulb's partial inventors, leading up to Edison's ultimate triumph in the late 1870s. [one version of that list may be found on page 38 of this pdf.]
-Steven Johnson, How We Got to Now: Six Innovations That Made the Modern World
image via
Historically misunderstood..............
By any measure, Edison was a true genius, a towering figure in nineteenth-century innovation. But as the story of the lightbulb makes clear, we have historically misunderstood that genius. His greatest achievement may have been the way he figured out how to make teams creative: assembling diverse skills in a work environment that valued experimentation and accepted failure, incentivizing the group with financial rewards that were aligned with the overall success of the organization, and building on ideas that originated elsewhere. "I am not overly impressed by the great names and reputations of those who might be trying to beat me to an invention. . . . It's their 'ideas' that appeal to me," Edison famously said. "I am quite correctly described as "more of a sponge than an inventor."
-Steven Johnson, How We Got to Now: Six Innovations That Made the Modern World
Fifty years ago.....................at Woodstock
Blood, Sweat & Tears.....................................their 22 minute set
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
The glory of repetition.................................
I was once asked, at a journalism conference, how I defined my job. I said: My job is to write the exact same thing between 50 and 100 times a year in such a way that neither my editors nor my readers will ever think I am repeating myself.
That’s because good advice rarely changes, while markets change constantly. The temptation to pander is almost irresistible. And while people need good advice, what they want is advice that sounds good.
-Jason Zweig, as cut-and-pasted from here
Fifty years ago.................At Woodstock
Richie Havens...........................................................Freedom
Soul force.............................
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
-Martin Luther King, Jr., as excerpted from here
Labels:
Discipline,
Heroes,
History,
Power,
Speeches
Tuesday, July 30, 2019
Stand thou forth.........................
I am not a day of season,
For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
In me at once. But to the brightest beams
Distracted clouds give way, so stand thou forth,
The time is fair again.
-The King, as channeled by Wm. Shakespeare in Act Five Scene Three of All's Well That Ends Well
Sean Carpenter........................
……..wants to know how you're going to finish out 2019:
Take a deep breath, grab a sip of water, and remind yourself that the actions you take over the next 30 days will have a huge effect on how the year will end.
Make sure part of your plan includes building relationships, solving problems and having fun. After that, the rest of the actions you take should be pretty easy to figure out.
Truth is elusive, although alcohol helps..........
The basic question that a lot of us have is why capitalism is such a boo-word among young people and why socialism is such a yeah-word. Young people sympathetic to socialism seem determined to believe that when they observe things they don’t like, capitalism is at fault; when they observe things that they do like, socialism deserves the credit. Yet the book drives home the point that the truth is the opposite.
-Arnold S. Kling, as he reviews this just-now-available book
Fifty years ago.................At Woodstock
Country Joe...........................I-feel-like-I'm-fixing- to-die-rag
Monday, July 29, 2019
Not the version you hear on the radio....
Joni Mitchell....................................................Woodstock
I came upon a child of God
He was walking along the road
And I asked him where are you going
And this he told me
He was walking along the road
And I asked him where are you going
And this he told me
I'm going on down to Yasgur's farm
I'm going to join in a rock 'n' roll band
I'm going to camp out on the land
I'm going to try an' get my soul free
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden
Then can I walk beside you
I have come here to lose the smog
And I feel to be a cog in something turning
I'm going to join in a rock 'n' roll band
I'm going to camp out on the land
I'm going to try an' get my soul free
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden
Then can I walk beside you
I have come here to lose the smog
And I feel to be a cog in something turning
Well maybe it is just the time of year
Or maybe it's the time of man
I don't know who I am
But you know life is for learning
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden
By the time we got to Woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song and celebration
Or maybe it's the time of man
I don't know who I am
But you know life is for learning
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden
By the time we got to Woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song and celebration
And I dreamed I saw the bombers
Riding shotgun in the sky
And they were turning into butterflies
Above our nation
We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden
Caught in the devil's bargain
And we've got to get ourselves
back to the garden
Riding shotgun in the sky
And they were turning into butterflies
Above our nation
We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden
Caught in the devil's bargain
And we've got to get ourselves
back to the garden
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