Eric Schlosser Nails It Again

Some people really do know how to make a difference in their culture. And one of them is Eric Schlosser (Fast Food Nation, 2001; Reefer Madness, 2003).

The September 30th issue of The New Yorker has an in-depth review by Louis Menaud of Schlosser's newest book, Command and Control. Here's a quote from that review:

"…an excellent journalistic investigation of the efforts since the first atomic bomb was exploded, outside Alamogordo, New Mexico, on July 16, 1945, to put some kind of harness on nuclear weaponry. By a miracle of information management, Schlosser has synthesized a huge archive of material, including government reports, scientific papers, and a substantial historical and polemical literature on nukes, and transformed it into a crisp narrative covering more than fifty years of scientific and political change. And he has interwoven that narrative with a hair-raising, minute-by-minute account of an accident at a Titan II missile silo in Arkansas, in 1980, which he renders in the manner of a techno-thriller…

…Command and Control is how non-fiction should be written."

And once again for Schlosser, written about something we all should know.

Kudos to Eric Schlosser for the new book, and kudos to Louis Menaud for a wonderfully written, in-depth review. I highly recommend both.

 

 

 

 

 

Wisps in the wind

"Among the forces which sweep and play throughout the universe, untutored man is but a wisp in the wind. Our civilization is still in a middle stage, scarcely beast, in that it is no longer wholly guided by instinct; scarcely human, in that it is not yet wholly guided by reason.

On the tiger no responsibility rests. We see him aligned by nature with the forces of life–he is born into their keeping and without thought he is protected.

We see man far removed from the lairs of the jungles, his innate instincts dulled by too near an approach to free-will, his free-will not sufficiently developed to afford him perfect guidance…

As a beast, the forces of life aligned him with them; as a man, he has not yet wholly learned to align himself with the forces."

–Theodore Dreiser, in Sister Carrie

I’m afraid Icarus is driving

"Our personal psychology is just a thin skin, a ripple on the ocean of collective psychology. The archetypes are the great decisive forces. They bring about the real events, not our personal reasoning and practical intellect… –CG Jung

 

OK, that's arguable. Because, as usual, Jung was saying something intiutive rather than something statistically provable.

But if we cede him the format — that certain instinctual forces drive humanity as a whole, from the inside out — and if we look at our own little slice of history that way, as a mere ripple in the great current of humanity occurring on this planet, then what would be the driving archetypal images of our time?

The first one that comes to mind is hubris. The pride that goes before the fall. The idea that whatever you think of can be (or even should be) done.

Then of course there are aggressive images.

Represented by the beasts, the monsters, the ogres, the tyrants in our tales…

And finally, there's greed: that ole dragon of capitalism, lurking and lying in wait within us all.

Nothing pessimistic about me.

 

 

Prejudices

I'm still on George Eliot, here. Because her insights are so right on. Because she was frackin' brilliant.

How brilliant? Mary Anne Evans, aka George Eliot, was a wildly successful female novelist from her very first published novel, Adam Bede… in the Victorian Age.

Despite living openly with a man who happened to be married to someone else, Eliot held a weekly salon attended by England's best and brightest lights. She counted that epitome of moral rectitude, Queen Victoria herself, among her most ardent fans.

When you can even get those who disapprove of you to approve of your work?… that's brilliance, folks.

Here's what Eliot has to say about prejudices:

 

"To minds strongly marked by the positive and negative qualities that create severity — strength of will, conscious rectitude of purpose, narrowness of imagination and intellect, great power of self-control, and a disposition to exert control over others — prejudices come as the natural food of tendencies which can get no sustenance out of that complex, fragmentary, doubt-provoking knowledge which we call truth.

Let a prejudice be bequeathed, carried in the air, adopted by hearsay, caught in through the eye — however it may come — these minds will give it a habitation; it is something to assert strongly and bravely, something to fill up that void of spontaneous ideas, something to impose on others with the authority of conscious right; it is at once a staff and a baton."          –George Eliot, from The Mill on the Floss

 

Interesting that she links those who tend to be severe, and those who have a vacuum in the spontaneous ideas department, with those who tend to form prejudices.

Gives us a better grasp on the handle of human nature.

The Problem with Free Will

The mistakes that we male and female mortals make when we have our own way might fairly raise some wonder that we are so fond of it. –George Eliot, in Middlemarch

the possibility of balance

"There is not justice in this world. Father, forgive me wherever you are, but this world has brought one vile abomination after another down on the heads of the gentle, and I'll not live to see the meek inherit anything. What there is in this world, I think, is a tendency for human errors to level themselves like water throughout their sphere of influence. That's pretty much the whole of what I can say, looking back. There's the possibility of balance. Unbearable burdens that the world somehow does bear with a certain grace." — Leah Price speaking, from The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver

 

Do not take the shadow lightly.

My husband came up with a catchy phrase today:

Do not take the shadow lightly.

Shadow, light… lightly, as in underestimating…

that's pretty good.

I love phrases that get deeper as you think about them. Phrases that open out, or in, when you turn your attention to them.

Ranting and raving over the airways

There's a lot of ranting and raving over the airways.

And of course it's always someone being very hot and bothered by something someone else is doing. Someone who just can't seem to get off of certain subjects…

I like what Vaclav Havel said about that once:

"Hate has a lot in common with love, chiefly with that self-transcending aspect of love, the fixation on others, the dependence on them, and in fact the delegation of a piece of one's own identity to them… the hater longs for the object of his hatred." –Vaclav Havel

Interesting thought.

For instance, what would Michelle Bachmann have to talk about if it weren't for the "liberal" media, and how would any of us have ever heard of her, without "liberal" doses of exposure from the media she says she so thoroughly depises?

 

Admitting selfishness & saying what you mean

The rose is one of the oldest, most beloved, most frequently used icons for the feminine principle. On the symbolic level, when Beauty said, “Bring me back a rose, Father,” in Beauty and the Beast, she was saying, "Bring me back some Mama."

On an ordinary, everyday, practical level, we can see why someone like Beauty could use an animal husband as well as some Mama. She has a bad habit of being too good.

Her sisters were acting vilely in the story, of course. Begging their father to bring back clothes and jewels and riches. But couldn’t Beauty have asked for something personal? A spool of thread? A book? New strings for her lute? No. Not this girl. She denies—even to herself—that she wants anything at all—even the rose—and it is this denial that brings on the problems in the story, not the Beast. Beauty’s denial of her own needs, her refusal to even try to figure out what she wants, brings a monster down on her whole family. In real life, a girl like this would be so passive-aggressive there’d be no living with her.

Selfishness is a basic human trait. We’re each born selfish as sea gull chicks {Mine! Mine!} ready to knock our siblings right out of the nest for any extra morsel. Selfishness is instinctual. It's a form of self-preservation, an archetypal way of acting, as demonstrated by Beauty’s sisters in Beauty and the Beast. Selfishness is the raw will to thrive in a hostile world. Thus no human being who is still breathing can be totally unselfish. We can only face up to the fact that we all have an inborn tendency to be selfish, and then try to manage that tendency without harming others.

As Thomas Moore says in Care of the Soul, there is simply no curing certain things in ourselves. All we can do is care for those things. But to take care of something, you have to—at the very least—be able to admit that it exists. Pretending not to be selfish does not equal ‘taking care of’ one’s selfishness. Pretending not to be selfish equals ignoring one’s selfishness.

Besides, if we don’t know what we want and how to go about getting it, why should anyone else know? Should other people have to read our minds so we can get whatever we want without having to come out and ask for it? That can get real nasty in real life. Not being able to just come out and say what you want—or what you mean, or what you feel—is the leading cause of resentment and divorce on the planet Earth.

But… maybe we should give a girl like Beauty the benefit of the doubt. She seems so nice. Maybe she really doesn’t want a single thing for herself. Maybe she has completely conquered all desire, like a bodhisattva.

Riiii-ght. Then she should’ve said so, "I don't want a thing, Father." Instead, she just made up a rose story to keep her sisters from getting mad at her.

Saying something you don’t mean to keep someone else happy merely allows their bad attitudes to determine your actions.

Going along with something you don’t agree with just to be polite is not civil—it’s servile. And it’s also downright dangerous, as we’re finding out every day.

Funny… how not being aware of one's own selfishness and not being able to say what you want go together so well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bombs in the baby carriages

My day job is caring for newborn to preschool infants, and in case you haven't done that for a while, or ever, it is a remarkably difficult job. Newborns require patience, complete sacrifice of one's own goals, and consciousness of the probable long-range effect of everything one is saying or doing on another human being. (Which of course is not possible. One can only strive and fail.)

When I look around at all the violence in the world, I have to ask, "Is what we're really seeing our world-wide failure as parents? What happened to those bombers, when they were so small they only slept an hour or two at a stretch, and cried interminably for 'no apparent reason'? What violence was done to them way back then, before consciousness was even possible, which settled deep into the crevices of their psyches, and burst out later in adulthood as pieces of flying shrapnel?"

I know, I know. Just saying this opens me up to all sorts of criticism. You're blaming mothers and fathers for horrible things their children do… that's  not fair, etc., etc.,etc.

And maybe it isn't fair. Maybe we can't just blame the mothers and fathers. Maybe we have to blame some of the cultures we've created, the ones that don't cherish children or childhood. The ones that create grinding poverty and a sense of hopelessness for most people while a chosen few get unimaginably rich. The ones that look down on motherhood and stay-at-home moms. The ones where it costs so much to live that everyone has to work, and no one has the time and patience to deal responsibly with a newborn. The ones that send mothers back to work 6 weeks after birth.

Once again, we end up having to blame ourselves; realizing the enemy are us.

Because it's just damn obvious that the more time, thought, and energy we put into caring and providing for young children, the less violence we would have in the world.