Lift Up Your Hearts!

C. S. Lewis said it best:

We all want progress. But progress means getting nearer to the place where you want to be. And if you have taken a wrong turning, then to go forward does not get you any nearer. If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive man.

There is nothing progressive about being pig-headed and refusing to admit a mistake. And I think if you look at the present state of the world, it is pretty plain that humanity has been making some big mistake. We are on the wrong road. And if that is so, we must go back. Going back is the quickest way on.

Don't be manipulated. Good advice, but very broad, and hard to follow. This post was inspired by what I have read about "bad actors"—AI bots or paid humans—attempting to sow discontent, anger, and hatred online. The Chinese and the Russians have both been accused of this, with what seems to be pretty convincing evidence, and I fear some of it is also homegrown.

My greatest concern is that Artificial Intelligence is rapidly advancing to the point where we can no longer trust our own eyes and ears, at least where online videos are concerned. It is possible to manipulate images and audio to make it appear that someone is saying something he or she never said. Think what political enemies could do with that! Everything from rigging elections to starting World War III. And you know those crazy spam blackmail threats that claim they recorded you doing "nasty things" in front of your computer? The ones you face with a grim smile and quickly delete because you know you never did whatever it is they claim? Imagine them including a video of you "actually" doing or saying what you did not? What if they show you a candidate for public office in that compromising position? Or your spouse, or your children. What about fake kidnappings? I could go on and on—my imagination is fertile and paranoid.

But that's not where I'm going in this post. AI's not quite there yet, and we have a clear and present danger in the here and now: Angry, profane, and hateful comments posted to articles, videos, and podcasts. Nasty online videos (especially the short form commonly seen on Tik-Tok and Facebook Reels) whose purpose (obvious or subtle) appears to be to stir up negative emotions. And that's just what I see every day; I know there's a lot more out there. It's hard not to have a visceral reaction that does no one any good, least of all ourselves.

And that, I'm afraid, is exactly the purpose of what is being posted. To make us angry; to make us suspicious of each other; to influence our reactions, our actions, our purchases, and our votes.

The best solution I've been able to come up with (and I have no idea how effective it might be, except with me) is this:

• Know your sources. Is this negativity coming from someone you actually know, in person, so that you are aware of the context? Is it from someone you know online only, but have had enough experience with over time to assess his general attitude, reliability, and track record? If not, keep your salt shaker near.
• When in doubt, if the content tempts you to react badly, assume the best: It's a bot or troll whose purpose is to make you angry; or a human tool too desperate for a job to consider its moral implications; or an ordinary human being who has been having a bad day/week/year (doesn't that happen to all of us?). In any case, make an effort not to fall into the trap.
• Avoid sources that usually make you react badly. Unfortunately, I don't think we can afford to avoid seeking information about what is happening in the world. One of the first rules of self-defense is to be aware of your surroundings. But we can be cautious. Even the sources I find most reliable can have nasty trolls in the comment section, so I mostly avoid reading the comments. I'm also trying to wean myself off of the Facebook Reels (mostly ported over from Tik-Tok or Instagram it seems). They can be fun, and funny, and sometimes usefully informative. But they are definitely addictive, and I've noticed that far too many of them are negative, even if humorous, leaving an aftertaste of fear, anger, disgust, and/or suspicion. Not good for the human psyche!
• Consider slowing down? I'm struggling with this one, because of the reality that so much of our information comes in video form these days. Unlike print, in which it is easy to skim for information, to skip over irrelevant sections, and to slow down and reread what is important, and which provides a much better information-to-time-spent ratio, the best one can do with video is to speed it up. I find that almost everything can be gleaned from a video just as well if it's taken in at 1.5x speed, sometimes even 2x. Porter's ears and brain can manage 2x almost all the time. This is a blessing when there is so much worth watching and so little time! However, here's what I'm struggling with: videos watched at high speeds tend to sound over-excited, even angry, when at normal speed they are not. And the human nervous system is designed to react automatically to such stimuli in a way that is probably not good for us if we are not actually in a position to either fight or flee. I don't have a satisfactory answer for this, but I figure it's at least worth being aware of.
• Remember that the people you interact with online are human beings, who work at their jobs, love their families, and want the best for their country, just as you do. Unless they're not, in which case it's even more important not to rise to the bait.

Be aware, be alert, do what is right in your own actions and reactions, and hope for the best. It's healthier for us all.

In the mad scramble to establish whether or not immigrant families are eating people's pets and wild ducks and geese in parks, the obvious answer is being ignored: Of course they are! What world are you living in if you think they can't be?

After the United States retreated ignobly from Southeast Asia, we were flooded with refugees from that part of the world. "Flooded" is a relative word; the numbers I can find vary, but it appears that it was around 125,000 people before we closed our doors except for the purpose of reuniting families. Which, of course, is a trickle compared with the multiple millions of people coming in now, from all over the world.

There were naturally plenty of difficulties settling so many Southeast Asian refugees and integrating them into our communities, but there were some significant differences between then and now that made that process generally successful. 

• Sheer numbers, obviously.
• Comparatively speaking, their entrance into this country was well-regulated.
• As refugees were brought here, they were sponsored by families, churches, and other groups that took responsibility for helping individual refugee families find places to stay, gain employment, learn or improve their English, navigate paperwork, and get their children enrolled in schools. In addition to that, the sponsors provided much-needed friendly relationships, often long-lasting, in an alien and frightening environment.
• Their presence in our country was clearly legal, greatly reducing the refugees' vulnerability to enslavement by gangs, pimps, unscrupulous employers, and crooked cops, lawyers, and judges.
• Again, the numbers. Small numbers of immigrants, relative to the population, can be assimilated and integrated into the host society without causing massive disruption. There is a difference between a summer storm and a category 5 hurricane.

What does this have to do with eating cats? Everything. Even with the relatively small, orderly, and successful assimilation of the "boat people" of Southeast Asia, people are human. They have problems. They lose their jobs, drop out of school, fall victim to unscrupulous predators, are tempted by illegal activities, or can't handle their money well. Especially as time goes on and the social safety net is not so focused and robust. And don't forget that while many of the Southeast Asian refugees were middle class workers who spoke English, many were also "country bumpkins" with no knowledge of Western culture. They weren't stupid people, but they were smart in their own culture; being dropped into an American city made them as vulnerable as I would be if I suddenly found myself in the jungles of Laos.

So some of them were hungry, and they did what hungry people do: they used the skills they had to find food. They fished in the rivers, not knowing and not caring that the rivers were polluted. The hungry belly does not concern itself with mercury levels. They discovered that squirrels abound in city parks, and squirrels make good eating—or so I'm told. Here, we rely on our local hawks to keep the squirrel population under control; back then, refugee families took care of that. I am not making this up.

If you flood an unprepared—and maybe unsuspecting—city with a large population of migrants who do not fit into the culture, who may not even speak the language, and who have no responsible sponsors to welcome them, some of them are going to be hungry. And they are going to do what they have to do to get food.

They're going to help themselves to ducks found conveniently living on city ponds. If they're hungry enough, they're going to eat cats without a second thought for whose pets they might be. Maybe they come from a culture that is too poor to imagine keeping pets and treating them like family members.

Of course they're going to eat pets, and whatever else they can find.

You heard that right. I'm here today to praise the Democratic Party. They may have betrayed my 56 years of loyalty; they may have cut their members off from the democratic process by keeping opponents of President Biden off the primary ballots, or as in the case of Florida, cancelling the primaries altogether so we couldn't even write in an alternative; they may be leading our country to the brink of disaster and beyond—but one thing they have done really well:

As soon as I switched my party affiliation, they stopped harassing me.

True, I would have appreciated a little "we're sorry to see you go" and "what led you to leave us?" rather than feeling as if they were delighted to have me off their membership rolls. It reminds me of my quarrel with Penzey's Spices, which clearly and openly stated that if our political and social views did not align with theirs, they did not care about having our business. Or the church that kicked us out, changed the locks, and cut off communication. It was not a smart response in any of these cases, and certainly not kind—bear in mind that all three of these organizations brag about their supposed compassion—but if they don't want my votes/membership/business, that's their problem.

But I am grateful for this current snub. I did appreciate getting information from all sides in the mail, which I find helpful for making voting decisions. But I resent the intrusive phone calls and text messages, which are now exclusively from the Republicans. When I was a Democrat, they came from both parties. I wish I could say that the volume has been cut in half now, but alas that does not appear to be the case.

It's not going to change how I vote, but I can't deny that this restores in me a tiny bit of gratitude to my former party.

I grew up a conservationist. That's the kind of thing that happens when you live in the shadow of New York's Adirondack Mountains, and your father is a Boy Scout leader who loves camping and hiking, and frequently takes you mountain climbing with his buddies from work. "Forever Wild" gets in your blood.

From before I can remember, I knew how to respect the mountains, the waters, the flora, and the fauna. Dad wouldn't have it any other way.  We subscribed to The Conservationist magazine, and treated the land and animals everywhere else properly as well. It's not surprising, then, that in my teenaged years I was drawn to what became known as the Environmentalist Movement.

That infatuation did not last, as the movement quickly moved beyond saving wild areas and animal habits, cleaning up air and water, and promoting responsible human encounters with nature.  It became political, and extreme; it chose large-scale activism over human scale efforts; and it lost me.

All this flooded back to me when I read "Can American Conservation Survive ‘Green’ Energy?" It reminded me that someone said—it may have been Robert F. Kennedy Jr., for whom conservation is a critical issue, but I'm not certain—"The Democratic Party has focused its concern for the environment on one thing and one thing only:  climate change.  It is now the Republicans who are thinking about habitat destruction, species extinction, the destruction of the land, and our nation's food supply." I'm paraphrasing, of course, but that was the gist of it.

Thanks to our unique history of conservation and a culture of preservation, Americans have, for many decades, taken for granted their access to natural beauty.

Organizations ... founded by concerned citizens serve to champion habitat restoration and protection. Indeed, such was the very foundation of the modern environmental movement spawning nonprofits that advocate for policy, educate, install oyster beds, guard sea turtles, clean woodlands, “save the whales,” remind drone operators about the negative impacts of unmanned vehicles on wildlife, and, of course, constrain or prevent drilling and mining projects to preserve species and habitats.

But now the environmental movement is at odds with itself. The movement’s full-throated embrace of so-called “green energy,” successfully amplified by unprecedented government mandates and subsidies, is leading to habitat-invading and beauty-destroying energy projects at scales that not only rankle onlookers but also those environmentalists still committed to stewardship and conservation—and would shock the founders of the preservation movement.

In California, a 2,300-acre solar project requires destroying thousands of 150–200 year-old Joshua Trees, also the habitat of endangered desert tortoises. Locals object. Officials approve.

Disputes in Maine about where to put massive wind turbine projects pit environmental groups against conservationists intent on protecting wilderness and wildlife. Paradoxically, the state has the nation’s strictest mining laws, precluding any possibility of directly sourcing even a portion of the raw materials necessary to construct the turbines and solar panels slated for deployment to Maine’s electrical grid. [emphasis mine]

Meantime in Vermont a solar panel project that would cover 227 football fields of pristine landscape is being vigorously opposed.

‘Green’ energy policies come at the expense of far greater land and water use. [They] also ignore increased foreign resource dependence and environmental impacts overseas. The production of useful energy, which drives economic productivity, is always about tradeoffs. Americans are unlikely to tolerate increasingly obvious ‘green’ tradeoffs. [emphasis mine]

In addition to affordable cars, air conditioners, and smart phones, virtually all Americans want clean air and abundant, biodiverse seas and wide-open spaces our 19th-century forebearers helped to realize.  You can bet future generations will too. It’s in our nature. And our energy policies and choices should reflect that.

When Russia invaded the Ukraine, I was naturally on the side of the underdog. I was thrilled when our choir sang John Rutter's A Ukrainian Prayer, and was happy to see the Ukrainian flags displayed in many places on our cruise through France later that summer. (I was even happier when one of our tours walked right into the middle of a demonstration in support of the Canadian truckers' Freedom Convoy.)

But from the beginning I have never understood the hatred of Russia, and one of my first blog posts about the situation was Pray for Russia. We had been looking forward to a trip to St. Petersburg, especially after a friend told me how impressed she was with the friendliness of the Russian people and their gratitude (still!) for American help during World War II. Now it's abundantly clear that we won't live long enough for American-Russian relations to be sufficiently repaired to make such a visit possible.

Very early in the war, I spoke with a Swiss man who could not understand why the United States was involved, and supporting Ukraine so enthusiastically, as there wasn't that much difference between the two governments, and they were both horribly corrupt. I'm finally beginning to understand his point of view, and also that the United States was far from innocent in the Ukrainian corruption.

The Vietnam War was a big part of my young life, though none of our family members actually fought in that terrible (and probably worse than useless) war. Our involvement in the Ukraine is beginning to have an all-too-familiar smell and feel. This 30-minute interview with human rights lawyer Bob Amsterdam gives a peek into one of the dirty sides of the conflict.

This morning I posted Jordan Peterson's take on the disastrous fall from grace of America's once-trusted institutions:  government, academia, the media, and medicine.  By the time evening came around I had also found Jeremy Tucker's point of view, with similar conclusions. It's an Epoch Times article, so I'll quote a few paragraphs for you.

Several new polls have appeared that confirm what you suspected. Trust in medical authority and pharmaceutical giants, along with their core product, have hit new lows.

People were willing to go along [with the government's COVID policies], simply because most people presumed that there had to be something true about the fears or else leaders would not be saying and doing such things. Surely, too, if this fear was being exaggerated, certainly the medical profession would have been the first to blow the whistle. Instead, we saw media, medicine, government, and pharma all marching in lockstep as the economy was crushed and civil liberties were wrecked.

It seems strange and bitterly ironic that following the largest and most expensive public health intervention in human history that trust would have sunk so far and so dramatically and is unlikely to recover for a generation. That is a problem that needs addressing. It certainly cannot be swept under the carpet, and the dissidents certainly should no longer be treated as problems to silence.

The people who expressed grave doubts about lockdowns and vaccine mandates should be given a hearing and spotlight. They were correct when the entire establishment was wrong. We might as well admit it. That is the beginning of the restoration of trust.

I don't always understand Jordan Peterson, nor do I always agree him, but he is always interesting and makes me think. Here he manages to ponder the causes of anti-Trump extremism, the fears of Trump voters, the fundamental natural resource of Western civilization, and the terrifying erosion of trust he has observed over the last five years, all in three minutes.

It wasn't long ago that I wrote the following:

People who buy extra toilet paper, or cans of soup, or bottles of water for storage rather than immediate consumption are not hoarding, they are wisely preparing for any interruption of the grocery supply chain, be it a hurricane, a pandemic, civil unrest, or some other disruption. As long as they buy their supplies when stocks are plentiful, they are doing no harm; rather, they are encouraging more production, and keeping normal supply mechanisms moving.

Plus, when a crisis comes, and the rest of the world is mobbing the grocery stores for water and toilet paper, those who have done even minor preparation in advance will be at home, not competing with anyone.

It's always fun to come upon someone who not only agrees with what I believe, but says it better and with more authority. Lo and behold, look what I found recently, in Michael Yon's article, First Rule of Famine Club.

Hoarders, speculators, and preppers are different sorts, but they all get blamed as if they are hoarders. Hoarders who buy everything they can get at last minute are a problem.

Preppers actually REDUCE the problem because they are not starving and stressing the supplies, but preppers get blamed as if they are hoarders.

Speculators, as with preppers, often buy far in advance of the problems and actually part of the SOLUTION. They buy when prices are lower and supplies are common. Speculators can be fantastic. When prices skyrocket, speculators find a way to get their supplies to market.

I hadn't thought before about speculators. I'd say their value is great when it comes to thinking and acting in advance, but the practice becomes harmful once the crisis is already on the horizon. Keeping a supply of plywood in your garage and selling it at a modest profit to your neighbors when they have need is a helpful service, but buying half of Home Depot's available stock when a hurricane is nearing the coast is selfish profiteering.

Do you have books from your childhood that have been loved into reality, like the Velveteen Rabbit? Think twice before trading them for newer editions. The same advice holds for any book you value.

I've already been hanging on for dear life to my copies of C. S. Lewis' Narnia books with the original American text. The modern, modified versions are interesting—I believe they are the British versions—but I still prefer the American versions, which contains Lewis' later revisions. What I really don't like about the currently-available books is the way they are numbered in chronological order, rather than publication order, as I strongly believe that they make much more sense in publication order.

Far more important than these minor changes, however, is what is being done to books now. This Natural Selections essay, "The Age of Censorship," gives some examples of what has been done to the new editions of Roald Dahl's works.

Many of the changes are of a type. For instance, more than a dozen instances of the word “white” were changed. White was changed to pale, frail, agog or sweaty, or else removed entirely. Because, you know, a color can be racist.

In one book alone—The Witches—The Telegraph counted 59 new changes. These run from the banal—”chambermaid” is replaced with “cleaner”—to cleansings that appeal more directly to modern pseudo-liberal sensitivities. The suggestion that a character go on a diet, for instance, is simply disappeared. And this passagage,“Even if she is working as a cashier in a supermarket or typing letters for a businessman,” has been changed to, “Even if she is working as a top scientist or running a business.”

It’s hard to know what even is believed by the censors who made these changes. Do they mean to suggest that nobody should go on a diet, or that no woman has ever worked as a cashier or a typist? And what, pray tell, is a “top scientist.” I’m guessing that none of the censors could provide a working definition of science, but that when asked to conjure a scientist up, they imagine someone with super science-y accoutrements, like a white lab coat and machines that whirr in the background. Sorry, that would be a pale lab coat.

Dahl's final book, Esio Trot, contained this passage, not in the text but in an author's note: "Tortoises used to be brought into England by the thousand, packed in crates, and they came mostly from North Africa." This was replaced by: "Tortoises used to be brought into England by the thousand. They came from lots of different countries, packed into crates."

I'm beginning to suspect that the real reason for these changes is to dumb down the language, the quality of the writing, and the readers.

It's not just children's books that are being rewritten. This Guardian article explains how Agatha Christie's books have been subjected to the censors' edits.

Among the examples of changes cited by the Telegraph is the 1937 Poirot novel Death on the Nile, in which the character of Mrs Allerton complains that a group of children are pestering her, saying that “they come back and stare, and stare, and their eyes are simply disgusting, and so are their noses, and I don’t believe I really like children”.

This has been stripped down in a new edition to state: “They come back and stare, and stare. And I don’t believe I really like children.”

Really? Is there some sort of requirement that when one dons a censor's hat, one must forget how to write interesting prose?

Back to Natural Selections.

There are many things troubling about the creative work of an author being changed after his death. It interferes with our understanding of our own history. We live downstream of our actual history, which did not change just because censors got ahold of our documents. Having the recorded version of history scrubbed interferes with our ability to make sense of our world.

Post-mortem revisions are also bad for art. These edits raise questions of creative autonomy. Of voice. Of what fiction is for. Fiction is not mere entertainment. Fiction educates and uplifts, informing readers about ourselves and our world, and also about the moment in time that the work was created.

When our children were young, I noticed that the newer version of Mary Poppins had been scrubbed of a chapter that was decidedly inappropriate to more modern sentiments. I didn't think too much about it at the time. But now I'm utterly convinced that even young children deserve to know—need to know—that not all cultures and times have had the same values and priorities that we do now. That while we may find other beliefs and practices horrifying, many other cultures would find our own beliefs and practices equally horrifying. What's more, and most important of all, that people in the future will look at us with the same patronizing disgust with which we see our predecessors. We are not the pinnacle of civilization.

That's an excellent topic of conversation for parents and their children, and what better place to start than with a beloved book?

Here's yet another reason why I prefer to judge politicians by what they do rather than what they say:

Porter was listening to Vice President Harris speak. As I walked by his office, I heard her say, "For the past 10 years we have had a president who did his best to divide our country." I fully admit that that's a paraphrase, because I don't remember word-for-word, but I assure you that was the sense and the number is correct.

I can't just walk away from something like that, even though yelling at the screen didn't do the least bit of good. Let's do the math.

Ten years ago, we were more than halfway through 2014, and Barack Obama was president. Donald Trump took office in 2017, then Joe Biden in 2021. That's four years when Trump was president, with roughly two and a half of Obama and three and a half of Biden. So, four years of the person she vilifies, bracketed by six years of those she admires. Shouldn't the latter take 60% of the blame for the mess she claims was made of the past ten years? She, personally, should take 35%, since she was second-in-command, and by her own admission highly influencial in the decisions that were made during that much of the time.

I didn't realize how much power a president has in deciding who gets protection from the Secret Service and who does not.

Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. had repeatedly asked for Secret Service protection as a presidential candidate, and was repeatedly denied—until the attempted assassination of President Trump made it politically inexpedient not to grant the request. But as soon as Kennedy decided to remove his name from the ballot in 10 states, the protection was immediately removed, even though his campaign is still active in the remaining states.

This action is not surprising from an administration whose primary strategy appears to be to do everything possible to remove its competitors from the ballot, from the Democratic primaries to November's election.

But it was not always so.

Some claim that Secret Service protection is only for viable candidates (they get to define the term), and typically only within 120 days of the November election. But before the 1980 election, Jimmy Carter made sure that Ronald Reagan, Ted Kennedy, and his other opponents were protected by the Secret Service long before the election; in Ted Kennedy's case it was for more than a year, beginning before he officially announced his candidacy. 

The president can make it happen if he wants to, and Jimmy Carter acted from higher principles than we're witnessing here.

Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.'s historic speech brought to mind this entry from my father's journals.

June 5, 1968

For the first time in months I turned on the radio during breakfast this morning to hear the outcome of the primary election in California, and learned with a shock that Senator Kennedy had been shot. It seems inconceivable that so many people have taken to shooting people they disagree with, and that to so many the end seems to justify the means. Somehow, things have got to get back on the right track.

I just watched Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.'s Phoenix speech live, and admit I was transfixed by every word. Politicians, it turns out, can still speak intelligently, rationally, and with substance!

It's not as long as it looks (90 minutes)—the video says 90 minutes, but his speech doesn't start till 41:29. I highly recommend it.

Thanks to all the leaks, everyone was expecting Kennedy to endorse Donald Trump. And that he did, without drama, but with conviction, because he believes he can worth with President Trump, especially on the issues that drive his own vision: freedom of speech, war policy, and the unspoken epidemic of chronic disease in America. On these issues Kennedy spoke at length from his heart, taking advantage of this "bully pulpit."

I strongly recommend taking the time to listen.

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will protect and defend the Constitution of the United States 

This is what I had to agree to when I changed my political party affiliation several months ago. I don't remember it from Pennsylvania, New York, or Massachusetts, nor from the two other times I've registered to vote in Florida. I knew it to be required of the president and other high-level officials, but didn't know it applied to ordinary voters. Maybe it's new; maybe I just missed it or am remembering poorly. Whatever the case, it's a good idea, and I'm taking it most seriously.

The least I can do is vote with my mind, my heart, and my conscience.

The Constitution of the State of Florida is a bit more fragile, harder to protect and defend, because it's so easy to amend. But I'll do my bit by voting down some truly egregious constitutional amendments on the ballot this year.

(Click to enlarge.)