Nature will prevail

    Isn't it amazing how nature can carve mountains and move boulders like this. This is the rock which we use to make monuments to ourselves.  No artisan is capable of creating any statue or building or painting that can compare to the wonders of nature.  Yet we appear daily to do our best to replace the magnificent natural world with our fragile monuments and scrape the earth to make way for our infestation.  Even though nature is the sole source of all that gives us life and sustains that life, we purposely pollute and destroy nature. Isn't that tantamount to omnicide?  My only hope lies in my firm belief that nature will prevail.  

     This really isn't anything new.  I would venture to offer a theory of how this all came about. 

     I have written several essays about social systems (i) concluding that they are not the friend of the homo sapiens. Quite the contrary. My theory in this case goes back to the days when social systems were just developing.  I can't put a date on it, but suffice it to say that homo sapiens prospered for ninety-percent of our time on earth without social systems.  Social system began to develop with the concepts of private land, ownership, government and organized religion. Because of their superior recording systems we are most aware of this in ancient Egypt and China.  

     Since any expertise I might be able to claim as an historian or student of human development is going to relate to Europe, including the Mediterranean countries, and North America.  I can claim a strong understanding, verging on an expertise, of the Abrahamic religions. (ii)  Judaism, the parent religion of the three Abrahamic religions, appears to be the original antagonist. Even though other religions were beginning to become organized and socialized over a larger area, they still held nature in a central role.  

     Judaism was the most obvious to start placing people above nature and treating nature as something apart and humans as not being a part of nature.  Now, I'm sure that there can be arguments made against other religions, but these other religions did not spawn the religion that would dominate Europe by the time Europeans began to colonize the world.  Judaism's attitude toward nature is established in the first chapter of their Torah "fill the earth and subdue it." (iii)  This is a part of what Christians call the Old Testament, and so Christianity, the first child of Judaism, took this 'other-than-nature' attitude with them on their colonial conquests.  

     This concept may have been present in other cultures by the time that white Europeans began to colonize the world, but a major part of that colonization was to impose their belief systems on those whom they conquered.  The colonization of North America is vile litany of white Europeans destroying the culture, religion, language and history of the indigenous people.  The indigenous peoples of North America felt very much a part of nature. (iv)

     Enter capitalism.  Actually capitalism goes back to England and the Netherlands of the 17th century.  Many people believe that  capitalism is an "American" idea. Sorry to break the news. (v)  It was beneficial to capitalism to court government and religion.  Capitalism added the concept that nature is a resource (vi) only valued for the wealth it could bring.  If land could not be used to further one's wealth it was considered useless even though it might be an immensely important part of an ecosystem.  A good example is how humans will drain "useless" swamp land to build or farm when in reality the swamp is critically important to all life - including human - as a source of clean water, air and food.  However, to the capitalist it isn't worth anything unless it makes them money.  As a result we see places like the large area along the Grand Canyon that cannot be hiked because of the old uranium mines that have ruined the land and made it dangerous to all animals, including humans. (vii)  

     This theory then brings the three social systems; religion, government and capitalism; together as the perpetrators of the three most egregious falsehoods that (a) humans are superior to nature, (b) that human over-population, mega-farming, lumbering and industrialization do not hurt nature and therefore all living creatures, and (c) that nature is nothing more than a resource. 

     Today we see that there is little regard for nature unless it is providing profits or the raw materials to make a product to make a profit. Religion, which can be argued to be the first to disregard nature, relied for a long time on good relationships with the reigning government. We have seen that, since Citizens United v Federal Election Commission (viii), government has become dependent upon the wealthy capitalist for their continued power. This, then, ties religion, government and capitalism together.  Three great social systems run by an elite few for the benefit of an elite few. 

     Make no mistake.  We are not above nature.  Human history is filled with examples of nature, in little more than a blink of an eye, laying waste to humans' sad monuments to their own glory,     taking back what human have endeavored to destroy or control.  One of my favorite examples is how humans thought that they had taken control of the Mississippi River for the purpose of commerce on the river and farming in the low wetlands stolen from the river by a series of levees, the first being built in 1717 to create New Orleans.  The first time the levees  were taken out by nature was 1844 in the Great Flood.  In 2005 over fifty levees failed. (ix)  I happen to drive across one of the few roads and bridges that were high enough to go from the east to west side of the river.  I drove for almost twenty miles with the Mississippi on both sides of me.  Nature had prevailed, and nature will continue to prevail. 

     In her June 1st, 2020 New York Times article, Rachel Neuwer (x) reports that experts give us 10-15 years before we reach the critical point of no return. After that we will rapidly progress  toward the point where the earth is uninhabitable to animals such as homo sapiens. The down side is that we homo sapiens must bear the greatest guilt in hastening this mass extinction and are killing ourselves by making no effort to change our ways. The up-side is that nature will prevail. As long as the building blocks for life still remain, nature will clean the water, soil and air that we have fouled, create new life forms, and start anew. Nature will prevail, but human will probably not be a part of it. 

       

FOOTNOTES: 

(i)  See my essay on "What constitutes a social system?"        https://oldconservationist.blogspot.com/2020/03/what-constitutes-social-system.html

(ii)  First as a history major as an undergraduate, followed by three years of graduate school where I carefully studied the Abrahamic religions and read two of their three holy books in the original language. 

(iii)  Genesis 1:28 

(iv)  Hudson, Charles. (1976).  The Southeastern Indians.  Knoxville, TN.  University of Tennessee Press. 

(v)  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_capitalism 

(vi)  resources =df  a stock or supply of money, materials, staff, and other assets that can be drawn on by a person or organization in order to function effectively. Similar: assets, funds, wealth, money, riches, capital. 

(vii)  https://www.grandcanyontrust.org/grand-canyon-uranium

(viii)  A copy of the actual Supreme Court opinion.   http://www.fec.gov/law/litigation/cu_sc08_opinion.pdf.

(ix)  https://www.mvd.usace.army.mil/Portals/52/docs/MRC/MRT_Levees.pdf?ver=2017-07-27-141912-910    -and-  

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2005_levee_failures_in_Greater_New_Orleans#:~:text=On%20August%2029%2C%202005%2C%20there,Katrina%20and%20landfall%20in%20Mississippi.

(x)  https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/01/science/mass-extinctions-are-accelerating-scientists-report.html?fbclid=IwAR1yr9C3VW5JCmR6dd56Zbsu2USMGCVePY_vZLR6DKhq2moyN7uwYWwmixU

From street to court room

     Some of us still remember the 1960s when millions of us took the the streets of Washington D.C. and other major cities to protest social inequalities and the war in Viet Nam. I was in Washington for two of the biggest.  We took to the streets because, in the 1960s, politicians at least acted like they cared and ultimately gave in to the will of the people. 

     More than once in the years I have been blogging and writing about environmental and other issues, I've had readers reply with the idea that we need to take to the streets again.  I have absolutely no problem with that. In fact, the more people in the streets the greater the evidence that a majority of people do not like what the Washington Swamp is doing and want change.  I cheer every time students walk out of school or show up at a capital en masse.   They know it is their future that we are destroying.   BUT ... you knew that 'but' was coming, didn't you? ... we all know that politicians no longer need to appear to work for the people or care what the people feel, think, want, etc.  Especially since the Citizens United decision politicians do not need to appeal to the people. There is absolutely no doubt that the majority of politicians are controlled by mega-corporations because the corporations give them millions of dollars to get elected.  Would you "bite the hand that feeds you", i.e. the one who keeps you rich and employed? 

     In the 1960s it was still almost embarrassing for a politician to admit that they wanted to make politics their life-time occupation. We still lived under the delusion that going to Congress was a public service which entailed some degree of sacrifice. I well remember the first political science major I met at a large Midwestern university who was bold enough to say that, for them, college was preparation for becoming a life-long politician.  Suddenly public service had become an occupation and the politician was in a position of 'doing-what-was-necessary' to keep their job. With Citizens United they soon forgot for whom they were supposedly working.  Elections soon became totally about who had the most money - which was always relatively true - and not about issues. 

     I'm not going to try to address election reform, but we must realize that our real battle is going to take place inside a courtroom.  When you start deciding which environment or social-issue organization you are going to support I recommend that you check out their legal department.   Do they have attorneys with excellent success rates?   What's their win ratio against the government?  While there are many fine organizations which deserve our support, we must realize that we need to put the bulk of our meager funds into organizations that can beat the government in court.  Until we can get rid of Citizens United, this is the best for which we can hope. 

First Rule of Life

     I had the great privilege of studying with the Dalai Lama a number of years ago.  I was just one of probably 200 students, but when he spoke I felt like I was the only person in the room. He was talking to me.  During that time I learned that Buddhism is actually 99% philosophy/psychology of life and 1% religion.  I must admit that if I were to be forced to declare a religion I would probably say that I am 99% Buddhist. Forget the religion. Philosophically I'm an ontological naturalist and existentialist.  It is the philosophy, psychology and spirituality of Buddhism that usually draws a person to it.  The first Rule of Life - classic Buddhism loves lists - is that we do good to all sentient beings and if we can not do good, do no harm.  I don't care how many marvelous, powerful, inspirational, insightful things Buddha or the Dalai Lama might have said, if I got nothing else out of Buddhism this was worth the effort. 

     Like everyone else, for many years I used the word 'hate' totally inappropriately.  I have spent so many years trying not to use the word that it now grates on my nerves to hear someone say "I hate that".  Children will say "I hate spinach".  They don't really hate spinach. They may dislike its taste and have never tasted a truly great spinach calzone but they don't hate spinach.  For some time we have used the word 'hate' to describe a really strong dislike.  Having fallen into this myself, it has come back to bite me despite my efforts at not using the word.  I haven't said "I hate..." for quite a number of years but not too long ago one of my children reminded me that I had said that I hated some politician.  They were correct to remind me but it wasn't hatred. The sad thing is that they have never noticed that I haven't used the word 'hate' to describe my feelings toward anyone or anything for well over a decade.  

     Now, there are those who would disagree that helping others is our primary purpose in this life.  Capitalist would say that our primary purpose in life is to make a profit.  If you look at our ever more capitalistic society you will notice that there seems to be less and less room for compassion and helping others.  For example, the federal government gave North Carolina less than 1% of what they asked for help to recover from Hurricane Matthew. This administration has repeated this type of behavior throughout the pandemic, using threat, bullying and withholding of critical medical supplies to force people to do what they want even if the people feel it is wrong. Almost every day our Congress looks for ways to take money from programs that help people so that they can pay for tax breaks for their enormously wealthy friends who paid to get them elected.  Such people find no value in the First Rule of Life because they find no value in helping other people. They seem to believe that only they are important and the medieval ex regula just divinum  - ruling by divine right. I do think that's one of the things to which we objected in our Declaration of Independence.  But I'm getting off on a tangent.  However, the tangent itself is an excellent example of applying the First Rule of Life.

     The First Rule of Life does not restrict us. It frees us.  It makes no demands of us.  It doesn't say that you must like or love the other, but if you can't do good to them, just try not to hurt them.  This is actually the foundation for most of the modern martial arts.  Many of the major defensive arts were developed by Buddhist monks who might be called upon to defend themselves or others.  The martial arts are designed to be non-lethal. The First Rule of Life actually protects us. We are not expected to retaliate or seek vengeance as you find in the three Abrahamic religions.  

     If you are one who has natural compassion and empathy toward others, you are probably wondering why I am making such a big deal about the First Rule. It makes sense to you. Sadly, it doesn't make sense to a large percentage of our society who follow a man who preaches, promotes and instigates hatred, bigotry, racism and violence. Consequently we have a significant shortage of compassion and equity. 

Destroyers of Inner Peace

Photo credits: NPR

     As I have been contemplating and writing essays about peace, I came to the disturbing realization that our social systems are actually destroyers of inner peace.  In fact, I would have to call them the antithesis of inner peace.   While our natural world is our source of peace,  social systems attempt to indoctrinate us with the belief that peace comes from participating in their high stress systems which keep us worried about tomorrow and focused on often unattainable goals.  Some of these systems, religion being the principal offender, would have us believe that nature, the source of true peace, is an enemy to be overcome.  

     This is especially true of the Abrahamic religions in what is called 'the western world'. Even though they constantly fight among themselves telling their followers that the others are evil, they are related. Both Christianity and Islam grew out of Judaism. I confine my remarks to these religions because they are the ones with which I am quite familiar.  

     It doesn't take long to realize that none of the three religions creates or even supports inner peace. Oh, they all talk about it, and their greetings and liturgies are full of the supplication for peace, but there is really no support or encouragement. Their concept of peace seems more closely aligned with "social peace" which is the lack of public conflict and violence but has nothing to do with individual needs and generally achieved by doing what you're told and not rocking the proverbial boat. Peace is always something 'out there' which is only available to the faithful follower who gives up independent thought and does what their religious leaders tell them, even if it is evil and goes against what their holy books say.  Once you have fulfilled all of the expectation then you might experience peace.  Usually you don't and are told that that is because you didn't believe strongly enough or pray hard enough. I don't know where this peace is supposed to originate since these religions never have you focused on the present. You are always worried about the future. Everything you do is focused on obtaining a future prize.  Since we have clearly observed that peace is a part of our nature and experienced only in the present, because the past is gone and the future does not exist, we must be extremely skeptical of a religion that tells its followers not to worry because there will be peace in their future if they do as they are told.

Only 1.8% of the population voted for George Washington

     Governments are the second social system that destroys inner peace. Government could care less if we have inner peace. That just isn't what governments do. I can't help but think of the exchange in the 1992 movie "Sneakers" between Whistler (David Stdrathairn) and government boss, Abbott (James Earl Jones). Whistler said "I want peace on earth goodwill toward men", to which Abbott replied, "We are the United States Government! We don't do that sort of thing." (i) Governments want social peace in the form of no one complaining, no one noticing their faults and behaviors, and no one rocking their boat. Be quiet, do your job and pay your taxes. Government creates tremendous stress by its very existence. I have always called it a necessary evil.  I believe that one cannot find a government at any point in history that was/is not run by an elite group.  It is, at best, the Animal Farm (ii) scenario; all animals are equal but pigs are more equal.  The French Revolution was meant to create a republic of the people, but those common people; "citizens", as the French revolutionaries called them; who led the revolt soon became the new elite and corruption followed. Government creates stress because we witness how often power corrupts. My father, a professor of history who specialized in US Constitution, had the saying "power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely."  More and more politicians are demonstrating their belief that they are above the law of the land.  The GOP has made it clear that government of, by and for the people is gone. Now we work for big corporations and the wealthiest 1% thanks to Citizens United. (iii) This really isn't anything new.  If you carefully study the development of the United States Constitution, you will soon realize that it was never intended to be governed by 'common people'.  The founding fathers set up the US government to be run by men with land and wealth. Only 1.8% of the US population actually got to vote for George Washington. (iv) That really isn't Lincoln's idea of government of, for and by the people. Government is antithetical to inner peace.    

     Capitalism is in bed with the politicians and religion. (v) This is nothing new and has been extremely common in western world history. It is a matter of control. Capitalism purposely creates dissatisfaction. If you are happy with your car,  refrigerator,  TV or computer then you won't buy a new one. Capitalism is an unstable, unsustainable system that depends upon constant mass consumption. They don't want you happy. Can an unhappy, dissatisfied person know peace? Capitalism wants you to believe that constant and excessive consumption makes you happy. Peace doesn't even enter the equation. 

    I don't have any theory on where it began, but humans in much of the world feel the need for revenge and someone to hate. Social systems make use of this and even promote it. Look at how Donald Trump and his GOP play the rednecks of this country "like a cheap fiddle." He encourages anger, hatred, violence, and revenge, and then sets up target groups - immigrants, liberals, native Americans and anyone who disagrees with him. You cannot hate and seethe with anger and know peace. Think of how often you have had a conflict or even simple disagreement with someone and hours, days, months or even years later you are still  a no-win game of "if I had only said." You are living in the past. Peace is not past. Peace is now.  However, social systems such as religion, government and capitalism blatantly keep people angry or upset about the past and fearful or stressed about the future, never giving one a chance to experience peace. 

     Inner peace is arguably the most sought after human experience.  I have never heard, nor would I ever expect to hear, anyone say that they did not desire inner peace. Could you, dear reader, look me in the eye and say that you don't care about experiencing inner peace - being at peace with and within yourself? I believe that it is very clear, very obvious, that our social systems, always run by an elite few,  don't really want us experiencing and enjoying inner peace.  If we did, we might find that we don't need them and they would lose control. 

“Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.” —Dalai Lama

FOOTNOTES. 

(i)   From the 1992 movie "Sneakers"  https://www.moviequotes.com/s-movie/sneakers/
(ii)  Orwell, George. (1945). Animal Farm. London. Secker and Warburg.
(iii)  Citizens United v Federal Elections Commission, 2010, a 5-4 Supreme Court decision that allows corporations and other outside groups to spend unlimited funds on an election.  https://www.brennancenter.org/our-work/research-reports/citizens-united-explained
(iv)  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voter_turnout_in_the_United_States_presidential_elections
(v)  Most people actually agree that government; currently the Republican Party; and large corporations have combined forces to control, manage and run our country,  I wonder how many people realize that the merger of corporate and government power is the actual definition of fascism given by the Father of Fascism, Benito Mussolini. Actually Mussolini wanted to call fascism "corporatism".  By the strictest definition, we currently have a fascist government.

Hope lies in the wilderness

     Hope lies in the wilderness.  Life comes from nature.  

     The large chunk of limestone, which most likely fell from the escarpment next to me many ages ago, made the perfect resting place.  I sat on the boulder as the brook next to me gurgled over and around the rocky debris of ages past on its way to the Russell Fork River over seven-hundred feet below.  It is rather mind boggling that these gentle flowing waters can carve the magnificent towering escarpments and natural arches that I see around me.  I removed my backpack and took off my lightweight Mexican cowboy hat that I bought for living in the desert, dipped a handkerchief into the cool water and wiped my face and head.  It was in the eighties but worse than the heat of July in eastern Kentucky is the humidity.  While the escarpment and lofty forest canopy afford me some shelter from the summer sun, nothing protected me from the humidity.  As long as I sat still, I was fine.  As soon as I would move I began perspiring profusely, constantly having to wipe the sweat from my eyes.  

     As I sat and admired the scene around me, I couldn't help but think of John Muir's famous trek from Indianapolis, Indiana to Florida in 1867.  His awe of the beauty of Kentucky as he crossed the Ohio River was soon replaced by the desire to be just about anywhere else on earth. The heat and humidity of the south just about finished John Muir before he could become the Father of American Conservation.  

     I grew up in these eastern mountains, although much farther north, where I learned to love the wilderness and nature. I have spent the last several years in the Rocky Mountains and claim Montana as home.  The Appalachian Mountains are not as spectacular and showy as the Rocky Mountains.  The highest point east of the Mississippi is Mount Mitchel at 6,684 feet. Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park, northwestern Montana, is the lowest point in the Rocky Mountains at 3,120 feet. The glacial moraine along the lake' s east side are still, at 6,600 feet, called hills.  Nevertheless, there is the majestic beauty of old age in the eastern mountains.  There are no "tree-lines" unless some nasty coal company has cut the top off a mountain.  Unless there is more uplift, this is what the Rocky Mountains will one day look like.  

     Growing old with grace and dignity, the Appalachian Mountains present as a carpet of green that almost invites one standing on a high overlook to jump into its lush foliage.  The upper story of the canopy is dominated by several varieties of Oaks.  A good ten-percent of the trees in this part of the Appalachians are Oak.  The beautiful Tulip Poplar is the Kentucky state tree.  I am also surrounded by Maples, Hickory, Sycamore and Ash trees.  The under story around me is predominantly Rhododendron and fills the hollows and ravines.  

     We were camped on the edge of one such Rhododendron filled ravine. Studying my topographic map I noticed that the ravine beside us led down to a road that I could follow for a short distance to a trail. I'm very accustomed to going cross country in the wilderness, so this wouldn't be any big deal. As long as I headed downstream there was no hopes of getting lost. As I made my way the few hundred yards from our camp to the road I had a difficult time maneuvering through the dense Rhododendron. In the area of the Allegheny Mountains where I grew up the Rhododendron would bloom in late May but here there were still plenty of flower in early July.  

     One of the trails I followed made its way up to almost 1,800 feet to an overlook that looked out over the gorge, called the Grand Canyon of the East.  It was breathtakingly beautiful but I must admit to having as much reverence and admiration for a place called the Notches.  That's where I stopped to rest. It was more of a ravine than a hollow, with very steep sides and of great outcroppings of limestone like the escarpment next to which I rested. Often there were recesses in these walls with the allure of a cave holding ancient secrets. Of course I had to make my way through the thick Rhododendron to check them out. I could only imagine how often their deep, dark, cool recesses might have been shelter for animals, including the indigenous homo sapiens. There have been reports of Black Bears in the area.  I'll admit to approaching the caves cautiously.  If I were a Black Bear on a day like today, I would be escaping the heat either in such a recess or lying in one of the creeks. 

     I covered a lot of ground in Breaks Interstate Park - a park shared by Kentucky and Virginia.  It was all beautiful but my favorite spot is the Notches.  

     I strongly believe that hope lies in the wilderness.  Peace and renewal is our mantra.  It took me most of a lifetime, but I now know that this is where I belong.  It is where I feel free and experience true inner peace.  I return home; return to the wilderness; to recover from the stress and anguish caused by what we call civilization.  In the wilderness I am safe.  Kiaayo (the bear) will not kill me for fun or attack me because of the color of my skin or what I believe. 

     Most modern people have neither the desire nor the skills to avail themselves of the life-saving gift of nature.  We have been, and continue to be, worse than cruel to nature, yet nature, without revenge or retaliation, continues to provide us with those things essential to life: air, water, food, medicine and shelter.  In fact, nature is the only source for these things.  

     Hope lies in the wilderness.  Life comes from nature.  

Miriam and Todd

detail of "Dome City" by Jeff Brown Graphics

    Miriam lay naked on the old mattress looking up at the floor joists just above her head as Todd gently and seductively ran his fingers over her body.  His dark skin almost took on a blue radiance in the diminutive light of the glow tube which made her body appear a ghostly white.  She put her hand on his and turned to look into his mahogany brown eyes.  She smiled. 

      

     "We don't have no time for that now," she said gently.  Todd looked disappointed but withdrew his hand.  "Tell me your dream again," she said returning her gaze toward the floor joist. "Tell me again about bein' free and us livin' in the woods."  

     Miriam's mind wandered through the thoughts and images of which they had so often talked.  She'd never seen a real tree but she had seen a picture of a forest before they closed the library, and she loved to listen to Todd tell of dreams of the two of them being able to leave the confines of the sphere and live together in a fantasy forest where they didn't have to fear the secret police finding them.  Even the fleeting thought of the secret police caused a quick stab of chilling fear.  What if they got caught?  Todd would be tortured and killed and she would be sent to the brothel which doesn't exist but provides plenty of money for the king. What if the secret police could read her mind and knew that she was in love with a Darkie?  

     Before she could go any further down that terrifying thought stream Todd, who had been dressing and fussing with something in his pack, brought her back to the present. 

     "Forget dream stories," he said turning toward Miriam.  "I broke into the library last night."

     "You did what?"  Miriam had heard, but she didn't want to believe what she heard. 

     "I broke into the library," Todd repeated and held out a book toward her. "And I got you this book."  

      Miriam took the book and looked at the cover.  It was  Jon Stallworthy's book "Love Poetry".                                

     The library had been closed shortly after Miriam had had her first bleed.  She was always glad that she had learned to read before they closed the schools. She put the ancient book to her nose and breathed deeply.  She loved the smell of a book.  Now all they had were terribly redacted short stories and approved books on the public monitor. She had always wanted to read Stallworthy's love poems.  She had seen the book in a glass case at the library.  The date inside said "1973".  She had no idea how long ago that had been, but she knew that it must have been a very, very long time ago.  The King had started the calendar over when he conquered Dome City and they were already up to year fifty.  But she knew that Love Poetry had to go way back before that.  

     In school Miriam had learned about hundreds of years of great disasters and wars before King Troef captured Dome City and made it a safe haven for his people.  That was King Troef I.  His son, Troef II is now king.  The king and his court live in a beautiful villa on the escarpment.  That's next to the air generators and water filtration facilities, both of which are heavily guarded.  Troef is always telling the people that they should be thankful to him because we have an unlimited supply of water and air. The rest of the world is dead.  Of course, his circulation fans always work, while those in the rest of Dome City only work sporadically.  Dome City is divided into four sections around a central square.  Central Square is dominated by the police station which is at the foot of the escarpment on which King Troef lives and through which you must pass to climb the steps to the King's villa. The only people allowed on the stairs are police and servants. Most of the servants are Darkies. You can easily spot them in Central Square. The women are required to wear black dresses with white aprons while the men wear grey and black stripped trousers, a white shirt with a big black tie, and either a grey waistcoat or a funny jacket that doesn't close in the front and has tails.   

     Central Square is the only common ground between the very poor White citizens and even poorer Darkie residents.  Darkies and Whites are not allowed to mix unless it is for work. "Citizen" denotes one who supposedly had rights.  Miriam wasn't sure what her "rights" were, but at least she had them.  The Darkies were considered "residents" which means that they are allowed to live in Dome City but have no rights.  The fourth quarter was a work area where there was hydroponic farming, maintenance buildings, warehouses and the air-lock leading to the outside. Miriam had met Todd working in the hydroponic farm. 

     She and Todd had ended up working together in the hydroponic farm.  It was a good job for a Darkie man and an orphan.  Todd had told Miriam that she was pretty, but she wasn't really sure.  All she knew was that she made sure to look bad and be smelly when the Royal Conscriptionists came through looking for "companions" for the boys and men of the royal household.  Miriam had no desire to be either a companion or a maid even if the villa was a much more pleasant place to work.  Miriam couldn't remember how they started talking. Well, they actually whispered because they really weren't allowed to talk to each other.  Neither could remember what had made them risk losing their job, or worse, but it had happened.  Todd had found a building by the outer wall, near the air-lock, that backed up to the White living area. The authorities, saving time and materials, had used the old building as part of the wall.  The building was being used to store old machinery parts, so workers rarely entered.  He had discovered that there were basement doors opening out on both sides of the building.  Todd had found an old mattress and some broken furniture and made a little secret meeting place. It wasn't long before it was their love nest.  Miriam could leave work, walk to the White living area and enter the building through the basement door on that side.  Todd merely mingled with the Darkie workers who were unloading supplies and trade items coming through the air lock and enter through the other basement door. 

     "I got myself this," said Todd.  He held out a book entitled "Bushcraft 101: a field guide to the art of wilderness survival." He grinned.  

     "It's a survival book," Miriam laughed leafing through the pages. 

     "I know," Todd said proudly. "I figured that out from the pictures."  He took the book back and opened it to a page on building shelter. "I can read the pictures, but you're going to have to read the words to me."  

     "Why do you want me to do that?" asked Miriam.  She felt herself tingle with the anticipation of his answer. 

     "Because I want our dream to become real,"  Todd said looking her square in the eyes.  His eyes could make Miriam melt. They spoke of abiding love, tenderness, gentleness and an unfathomable longing to live in freedom with the love of his life far away from the racism and servitude of Dome City.  

     For Todd, Dome City was nothing more than a slave labor camp.  Miriam may not have been able to tell you about her rights, but she sure could tell you about the privileges of being White.  Even what should be a simple act of walking across Central Square could easily be a harrowing experience for a Darkie.  People yelling at you if you're headed toward a shop on the White side of the square. Darkie do this ... Darkie do that. King Troef frequently made it clear that Darkies should keep their heads down, look appreciative, speak quietly and be happy that they aren't put out in the deadly wilderness outside the dome.  It is the Darkie who carries the heavy boxes of supplies from the warehouses by the air-lock to the villa on the escarpment. The Darkie house servants were allowed to use the front stairs up the escarpment. Along the side wall by the Darkie residential area there was a second set of stairs used only by the human pack mules.  They were in horrible disrepair and it wasn't uncommon for a "porter" to fall to his death because the stairs broke. The poor Whites didn't get much in the way of health care, but they did get some. For the most part, those living at the foot of the escarpment, Darkie or White, were left to die unless they were of some particular value to those who lived in the villa. Todd's parents had both worked in the villa. His Father had been a man-servant for one of the King's household. He had just dropped over dead one day several years ago. His Mother had been a cook. Todd didn't know whether she was alive or dead. She had been thrown in prison for taking left-overs home. Todd's older sister, Geneva, raised their little brother. She married a good man, Robert, who works as a porter.  Geneva makes money by taking care of children while the parents are at work. Half the time she doesn't get paid, but she knows that is because the White bosses almost always take a tithe from a Darkie's wages and sometimes more. She doesn't complain.  She and Robert have sufficient food and a place to live, but most of all they have each other. 

     What Miriam called home was a one-room apartment above a second-hand shop just off the central square. Actually it was an attic. The pitch of the roof made it so she could only stand up straight in the middle, but it was as comfortable as anything she was going to find.  

     The old couple who owned the second-hand store were the only people who would take her in after her mother died.  Her mother had been a companion in the villa. Miriam's father was one of the rich men living up there, but, of course, none are going to admit to an illegitimate daughter. Her mother had died of syphilis when Miriam was probably seventeen.  That had been at least four years ago as the king counts it.  Miriam was already working in the hydro-farm when her mother became ill.  When her Mother died, she couldn't afford their apartment and had to move out. Since Miriam was a bastard-child and her mother was a companion who died of syphilis, no one would talk to her or help her except Rudy and Rose.  They didn't charge her for the attic but she gave them whatever she had left after buying food and paying any bills. Like most people in Dome City, they were extremely poor and could barely make ends meet. She figured that giving them whatever she could was the least she could do for their kindness. 

     Miriam thought about Todd and his dream of one day walking out of Dome City to live free in the forests.  Of course no one except those in the villa knew exactly where Dome City was located, and, besides never having seen a forest, neither of them knew whether or not a forest actually exists.  The idea of getting away from Dome City both excited and frightened Miriam.  Dome City, with its high block and metal walls, and superstructure on which the special glass was mounted, was all she had ever known. In school they had been taught that it was almost immediate death to go outside the dome. Now Todd was wanting to make his dream a reality.  Could she go?   Miriam smiled to herself. Of course she would follow Todd anywhere. She loved that beautiful Darkie and there is no way she could live without him.

     The next morning Todd's time card showed that he was in the farm building but Miriam couldn't find him.  She was worried and it was hard to keep her mind on her work. 

     As Miriam worried, Todd had already found an XPS;  exterior protective suit; put it on and was looking around for another.  He soon found that no one looked twice at him when he was wearing an XPS.  Having procured a second suit for Miriam, Todd moved on toward the airlock.  He was surprised to find that the airlock appeared like any other set of gates and doors. There was a large red and green light above the gates. The red light was on. He watched as workers opened the giant double-doors for a lorry to enter.  There was a man-door that didn't work any differently than any other in Dome City. He had really expected some form of special seals or construction.  It was just a door, and not a particularly good door at that. Its appearance attested to the fact that it had had a long and heavily used existence. 

     Todd carefully opened the man-door and looked in.  A handful of workers stood around a large area big enough for at least two lorries.  A lorry sat at the far end where the lights, like the set he had seen before, were red. He noticed that the lorry drivers were not wearing XPS. Perhaps, he thought, the cabs were somehow protected.  Of course the steady flow of lorries in and out of the air-lock made Todd wonder about the King's claim that the rest of the world was dead or dying.  If that was true, why was Dome City getting so much of its supplies from somewhere else? As he watched the light turned green, and workers opened the outer gates. A lorry rolled in and the one that was waiting pulled through the gate into what appeared to be a long plastic tunnel. 

     Passing through another man-door, Todd found himself inside the long plastic tunnel with another door to his right that appeared to open directly into the outside.  He could see the end of the plastic.  Todd walked toward the light and was soon looking outside. There was a gravel road that stretched out before him and disappeared over a hill.  On the hills around them he saw trees. He just stood and looked. After several minutes he stepped outside the tunnel into the full glare of the sun. The air smelled clean and fresh. He could feel a gentle breeze against his face. It soon began to get uncomfortably hot in the XPS and Todd returned to the tunnel. 

     Quickly Todd returned to the hydro-farm, clocked out, and headed toward their hideaway. Miriam had been waiting for him and would have scolded him except he came almost literally bouncing into the room saying "I've been outside."  Time and time again Miriam had Todd tell her about the sun, the trees the smell of the air.  

     Over the next several days, Miriam and Todd bought as many supplies as they could without drawing attention. They fabricated backpacks and filled them with their supplies. Each day after work they would talk about how they were going to leave. 

     Todd visited the air-lock late one evening after dark. He found that only those unloading the lorries were around and the man-doors were not locked.  Most of those unloading the lorries were Darkies like himself, so none paid him any attention. That, he thought, was their way out. 

     The next night, after work,  they met in their hideaway. They had talked about this moment so much that they hardly spoke.  Each put on their XPS over their backpack.  

     "Are you ready?"  asked Todd.

     "Let's do this!"  exclaimed Miriam excitedly.

     As Todd had experienced the night before, there were only a few workers unloading a lorry.  Only one looked up. Todd waved, making sure the worker saw he was a Darkie, and the worker waved back.  What Todd hadn't anticipated was someone standing by the man-door.  

     They watched the person as they walked toward the door. At first they couldn't tell if the person was male or female, Darkie or White. They were almost to the door when the person turned around. It was a White woman. 

     "Hi," said Miriam cheerfully. 

     "Hi," said the woman less cheerfully, only giving the two a brief glance. 

     "What are you doing down here?" Miriam asked.  She figured that it was better for them to ask the woman such a question than to wait to be questioned.  

     "Oh, there's one last damn lorry," the woman looked annoyed. "I have to stand here and wait for it." 

     "Bummer," said Miriam. "Hope they get here soon."

     The woman shrugged as Todd and Miriam went through the door. They didn't offer any explanation of why they were there and the woman was evidently annoyed enough with having to be there herself that she didn't care why they were entering the airlock.  

     Quickly the two walked toward the end of the plastic tunnel.  They were struck by the darkness and the cool air against their faces.  Miriam began to giggle and soon the two were laughing as they walked down the gravel road.  

     They walked quickly and occasionally danced along the road until they came to their first hill and trees. The road had been cut through the hill. Miriam and Todd climbed up the hill and stood on the edge of the woods looking back toward Dome City. It was nothing more than a dull light in the distance. Both lost in their own thoughts, neither of them felt any remorse for leaving.  Any thought of fear or danger was lost amid the giddy ecstasy of freedom, space, fresh air and the smell of the forest. Having any remorse toward leaving Dome City would be like feeling sad to be released from prison.  In fact, later both would have to deal with the anger when they realized what they had been denied.  Sitting arm in arm on a pile of pine needles Todd and Miriam looked at the glow in the distance.  Their eyes grew heavy and soon they were asleep. 

     Both were awakened by a phenomena neither had ever experienced. They were awakened by sunrise. They sat in awe watching the magnificent event.  Looking back toward Dome City they saw the large open area they had crossed the night before.  There were no trees but tall plants and bushes.  From their vantage point they could see what appeared to be water running in rivulets through plants with an occasional open area where the water collected in various size pools.  At the bottom of the hill was a pond. On the bank was a large animal with long black hair that seemed to be trying to get something out of the water. Two smaller creatures played nearby.  Todd and Miriam decided that the larger one must be the mother. The two smaller creatures stood up on their hind legs from time to time and looked around.  Todd and Miriam had no idea what they were but they were beautiful creatures.     

     "I think you should'a taken a book on animals when you was at the library," Miriam laughed. 

     "They's pictures of them in my survival book,"  Todd held out his book. 

     "They're bears!" Miriam exclaimed.  "This here book tells us how to keep our food away from them. They can be ferocious, it says."   

     As they sat and admired the giant creatures they were startled by movement behind them. There looking at them through the underbrush was a brown elongated face with beautiful big eyes set on either side of  its head.  The four-footed creature quietly turned away and started nibbling on leaves and plants. Miriam thought it might be a horse or a cow but it didn't look like the pictures she remembered.   Todd again had the answer. It was a deer.  

     Miriam walked over to a nearby tree. It was tall and stately.  Its bark comprised of large  pumpkin colored platelets with deep black furrows. She wrapped her arms around the tree and began to cry. Todd knew that it wasn't a cry of anguish or sadness.  He knew the joy she felt and her tear of joy were his reward.  

     Still giggling and crying with happiness Miriam asked, "Do you think we should go back and tell them the truth?"

     Todd starred sadly off toward Dome City. "And who's going to believe us?"

     For a long time the two stood holding hands, as they surveyed their new world. Finally Miriam asked, "Okay, mate. Where  to now?" 

     Todd pulled out his book on survival. He opened to a page that had been marked with a dog-eared corner.  It had drawings of places that are good to camp.  Miriam read the descriptions out loud as Todd looked over her shoulder at the pictures. 

     "I guess we need to look for someplace like one of these pictures."  He hesitated to see if Miriam agreed. She smiled.  

     "That makes sense," Miriam teased, "and where are you going to find such a place?" 

     Todd feigned confusion, did a complete three-hundred-sixty turn, looked off along the mountain ridge, pointed and said "that way." 

     "And," flashing a defiant look over his shoulder toward Dome City, "from here on I ain't no Darkie. I'm a man."  He looked at Miriam with a satisfied grin which she return with one of pride. 

     Miriam took a quick look back toward Dome City then, with a heart filled with hope and joy followed her beautiful man into the woods.  

White Supremacist Racism (WSR)

Picture credits: Houston Chronicle. 

     The world is trying desperately to deal with racism and white supremacy but the more we listen to those who have suffered from white supremacist racism (WSR) for centuries the more we realize that we have a daunting task ahead of us.  I recently changed my Facebook page 'Studying the Hunter-Gatherer', which was a research page, to an advocacy page for HG, indigenous people and all people of color who have and are suffering from WSR.  My current idea of support is to study questions about the history and practice of WSR.  As an undergrad historian and philosopher, (i) I truly believe that we can learn from history. Understanding the history can help us know the best attack. Why do you think that professional sports teams spend so much time studying game films?  Knowing what happened - history - can identify an opponents' weaknesses and/or help one avoid making the same mistake again. 

     For me, in our current crisis,  looking at the game film; i.e. studying the history of WSR;  is an important step.  I can't blame people of color (POC), which is basically the entire world except those of European ancestry, for boiling over and demanding immediate action. They deserve it. Nevertheless, acting too hastily can result in laws that are passed just for show, have no teeth and are about as good as the Indian peace treaties the US government has made over the years and subsequently broken.  I'm not advocating for slowing down or backing off!!  Quite the contrary.  We just need to make sure that we have a game plan that will not only bring some quick success and relief as well as success that will endure backlash and last for perpetuity.  Besides the fact that most people have neither the patience nor the desire to do this type of research,  I'm seventy-four years old and people like me don't have the physical ability to hit the streets like I did in the 1960s.  

     I believe that the first, and perhaps biggest question is "how did the white colonialist overcome all these people?" -OR- "what is the origin of WSR?"  We know the Europeans weren't smarter.  Europe was just coming out of a period of great superstition and ignorance while their POC neighbors, in what is now the Middle East, were the keepers of knowledge in what we call the western world and Asians had successful, sophisticated medical systems. The Asians had gunpowder long before the Europeans. Some native tribes in North America had been successfully practicing pure democracy (ii) for centuries before the white colonialist.  What happened?  

     We know that the white Europeans believed themselves superior and so treated others with total disregard and inhumanity.  I think we see that that is still true of the modern WSR. This belief can be translated into a total lack of concern for the effects of their behavior.  In other words, early colonialists might smile sweetly at the indigenous person while another colonialist stabs the indigenous person in the back.  Do you think that the modern WSR would do this?  You can bet on it.  Andrew Jackson told many stories about the horrible, bloody, ruthless behavior of the Indians.  He was actually describing his own behavior and that of other white people but, to turn the unsuspecting and naive US citizen against the natives, he attributed his behavior to his victims.  The white historical account of Lt. Col George Custer's defeat at the Battle of the Greasy Grass; the native name for what whites call the Battle of Little Bighorn; was called a massacre and an appalling example of Indian savagery. This is what appears in many school books. Thankfully historians aren't going to be put off. If you read the whole story, the true story, you find that Custer had just slaughtered a village of women, children and elderly, and that wasn't the first such slaughter. Whites tried to rewrite history. There were, and probably still are, those who tried to make slavery look good; depicting the southern plantation as a comfortable, happy life and ignoring the reality of being chained and dragged from their homes in Africa, of being bred and sold at auction, and being whipped at their owner's discretion, and much more. Do you think that the modern WSR would resort to such lying?  You'd better believe it.  Colonialist, which include the so-called pioneers, had no qualms about murdering native women, children and elderly, and as a result the saying "the only good injun is a dead injun" (iv) made its way into the twentieth century western movie. Speaking of movies, for decades the black slave was little more than a simpleton, and people of color were almost always the bad guys.

     These are just a few of the behaviors and issues which I can tell about without having to go do research.  As the son of an historian and a history major myself as an undergrad, these are facts that I've always known.  These are the facts, coupled with personal experience, (iii) which made my Father and me the protagonist of the WSR.  It is written in the Cambridge English Corpus (iv) that "All good protagonists require a formidable foe,..."  We have that in the WSR.  Our efforts and the results of the 1960s civil rights campaign were good, but only a good start.  They have proven to lack the strength to survive much more of the modern WSR attack. Looking back and thinking about the blatant racism that still exists, I think we failed to cut off the head of the evil serpent.  

     In J.R.R. Tolkien's 1937 novel "The Hobbit", Bilbo Baggins crept into the lair of the evil dragon, Smaug, and discovered the weak spot in the dragon's armor.  Until then the dragon was invincible.  Until now WSR has given indication of invincibility.  While people are still manning the front-lines of the everyday battle, I propose that we dedicate some serious brainpower to finding the weak links in the WSR armor and exploiting them for the good of all.  

FOOTNOTES.

(i)   I did history and philosophy as an undergraduate. Even though I ended up a psychotherapist, these are still subjects important to me.

(ii)  pure democracy is where everyone in the community, males and females, had equal say in the community decisions. There were no "representatives" and the chief was often selected by the people and subject to their demands.  Read  Hudson, Charles (1976).  The Southeastern Indians.  Knoxville. University of Tennessee Press.

(iii)  My Father grew up in a small Midwestern town that had no people of  color.  His first introduction to racism was in World War II.  He was a disabled vet, who could barely walk and had just been returned to the US days before, when a gang of white men threatened to hurt him because he held the door for a black lady.  That was his trigger. He became a member of the NAACP and, as a professor, advocated for black students throughout his career. He was responsible for the Pennsylvania university system offering black history, and, realizing that there were no black faculty  to teach it, he did copious research so that he could be the first professor. His original specialty was the US Constitution.

(iv)  This saying can be traced back to General Philip Sheridan, 1869, when he replied to Comanche  chief Tochaway's statement about being a good Indian by saying "the only good Indians I ever saw were dead."  Racism. WSR


(iv)  The Cambridge English Corpus is a multi-billion word corpus of English language (containing both text corpus and spoken corpus data). The Cambridge English Corpus (CEC) contains data from a number of sources including written and spoken, British and American English.

No such thing as bad publicity

     The line "there's no such thing as bad publicity," is credited to PT Barnum of Barnum & Bailey fame.  He was a self-publicist and a publicist's publicist. Is his saying true?  Movie stars and politicians seem to believe it.  Barnum's show, touted as The Greatest Show on Earth, and its precedessors ran from 1871 to 2017! What do you think? 

     It is really difficult to stop someone like Barnum. Case in point: Donald Trump.  Whether it is a picture and an old statement about his daughter that leads one to wonder about incest or factual evidence of encouraging violence, they all provide name and face recognition.  

     We can't stop the tweets, posts and behavior, but we can reduce the publicity impact by following a few guidelines.  

(1)  Don't use derogatory nicknames. It immediately turns off everyone you'd like to have read what you write.   

(2)  Don't show pictures of Trump even if you're talking about something horrible he did. Pictures create face recognition. Post pictures of what he did; e.g. a picture of polluted water on a native American reservation. People remember the face and forget why they know it.  

(3) Don't read and react to every Tweet he posts.  The man puts out about 1 Tweet every 15 minutes for 8 hours a day. To acknowledge and argue each of them gives him name recognition. People recognize a name and forget why they heard it. You also give his faithful something about which to argue.     

      Another factor. Twitter will tell you of the millions who follow Trump's tweets. That doesn't mean that all of those agree with him. Those vast numbers who disagree and debate his tweets are counted among "followers".  That builds his ego, which already surpasses Genghis Khan,  Julius Caesar and Adolph Hitler all rolled into one. I think we would be best to totally ignore him on social media and focus on his actual behavior. That gives anyone plenty about which to write. 

Statues, sound bites and blogs

There has been a lot of attention on statues over the past few weeks. It is good that we have the discussions we have about statues and that many must come down. I'm happy to see racist/divisive statues removed. Personally I'd also remove statues that glorify war or conflict. In fact, the only statues that I might leave standing are a representation of a person on their grave which simply says "here lies a good person."   Whether racist or divisive, all statues have the same problem; viz. they don't tell the entire story and can be quite misleading.  Even a plaque, which I feel far superior, is limited by the amount of information its space allows. Frequently that isn't nearly enough to really tell the story, and people are generally too lazy to seek out more information.  

     Statues, plaques, etc., were the means of universal communications to our predecessors. Our sound bites, video clips and blogs are our current means, and they have the same limitations. They show only one minute part of the story.  For example, the statue of Andrew Jackson. Wow, does it make him look impressive. It doesn't tell the rest of the story about how he cheated, killed, defied the Supreme Court and stole the land of the Native Americans who helped him win a war. It doesn't tell you that he was the worst thing to happen to the US until 2016. 

     I must admit to disliking sound bites and video clips. I took you-tube off my phone. I want to read accounts, opinions and facts so that I can think, reread, ponder, reread, form a visual images or opinions and then reread.  I want to see the whole picture, or at least enough of it that I can learn where to go to get the rest of the story. 

     Case in point: Oct 19, 1969.  As a graduate student, I drove a bus load of college students to the Washington DC anti-war demonstration. There were over 500,000 of us there. The sound bites weren't going to include the organizers tell new arrivals how to stay out of trouble, they were going to focus on every nasty thing anyone said on either side. That's sensationalism and that's what keeps the ratings up.  Pictures and videos were going to be of those students who broke the march rules and tried to stop traffic or damage property.  They weren't going to be of the cops calmly redirecting traffic around the trouble makers or the marchers distancing themselves from those who wanted to throw stones.  Pictures definitely were not going to show the DC cop soaking his feet in the reflecting pool at the end of a long day with students skinny-dipping nearby.  

     I don't really like what we call "blogs". Have you ever read directions for writing a blog that will get picked up by a search engine? It is basically writing techniques that are antithetical to good writing skills. I avoid calling anything I write a "blog". To me that's almost an insult.  Some actually argue for longer texts but most say that you want to keep the length down because people won't read more than a minute or two. Evidently that's around 800 words. You see blogs or news articles that tell you how long it will take you to read it. The blog has become an over-sized plaque; insufficient to get the entire story or message across. 

     I don't know how my anthropologist family and friends feel about it, but my historian Father found all this appalling. It is hard enough to glean the truth of an event or social situation studying piles of books and hundreds of documented references. I have an anthropologist friend who often laughs about the piles of books in her study and how she is receiving more each day.  These are the tools by which she learns of people, places and times she can't visit in person. How does one expect to really learn anything from a short video or 800 word "blog"?  You can have a picture of Donald Trump standing by the Mexican border with his hands outstretched. You and I know that he isn't saying "give me your tired, your poor, your  huddled masses yearning to breathe free,..."  Quite the contrary. But how is that going to look to someone who hasn't lived through Donald Trump's reign? 

     Going back long before I started going to school people called subjects like history the boring, egghead subjects. I'll agree that there are teachers who can make a class on the Kama Sutra boring, but that doesn't make the book or the subject boring. I've also witnessed lecturers who can make an obscure historical place or event so interesting that the listeners go away wanting to learn more. 

     I hated having to give up my books when I hit the road as a nomad. Behind my desk were hundreds of reference and professional books. Beside the chair where I would end the day reading and sipping Irish were probably two hundred books on a myriad of subjects. 

     I guess I must admit that while I was labeled by my profession as a psychotherapist, my real love was as an amateur philosopher, historian or anthropologist. During the short period of life where I was an advisor to doctoral students, I actually envied the research they were doing.  The result of this is that I truly and sincerely fear for our society that doesn't want to read, can't write a complete sentence, and wants everything in short sound bites, 800 word blogs or 280-500 character tweet. I can't help but to fear that if we don't study, read and understand why we are tearing down statues, etc., that we will indeed repeat the history that put them there.  

Finding out who we really are

I find it quite sad that so many people never find out who they really are. It seems, from rather simple observation, that the lucky ones among us tend to discover who they really are rather late in life. I have a number of nomad friend whom I think have discovered their real selves, but even most of them were well into adulthood. 

     If you have read any of my philosophical essays on social systems, you will know that I believe that social systems (i) tell us who we are, what we believe and set expectations on our lives and behavior. This is quite unfortunate because it leave us totally out of the loop. What is the current popular acronym?  WTF?  It's our life. What right do social systems have telling us who we are. 

     My Mother has been called a "spitfire". Sometimes that was meant as a compliment. She defied her father, who was speaking for the social system, and refused to just get married and start having babies. She went to college. Well, college was interrupted by WWII, but when I was eleven years old and she graduated from Indiana University, you wouldn't find a more proud father. Sadly, I'm not sure she ever discovered who she really was. She had lots of talents. She earned her PhD when she was over 60 years old. The up side is that I don't think she ever stopped trying to find out, even though I don't think she was conscious she was looking. 

     My Father was again limited and pidgeon-holed by the social systems. Returning from WWII as a disabled vet, he completed his PhD with a specialty in US Constitution. He was strongly recruited by the US Department of State but the social systems told him that he shouldn't risk taking a family to foreign countries. He turned down an unbelievable opportunity. He was cautious to the extreme. Even though he had a good career and retired as a highly respected professor, knowing him, he wasn't happy.  He learned about our family roots in Ireland. That seemed to be a turning point in his discover of who he really was.  He studied Irish history and became Cainteoir Gaeilge (Irish speaker), which, by the way, is one of the primary reasons that I ended up moving to Ireland and starting my PhD.  By the time he retired at 65, he was spending three months a year in Ireland.  Part of that time was spent on the west coast where they don't speak English, and part of that time was in Belfast. He started a program where he brought Belfast teenagers from both sides of the trouble to the US where they could get to know each other on neutral ground and become leaders of peace. It was a very successful program. The program meant that he spent a lot of  time in the middle of the dangers of Belfast and he told me stories of being followed by "protestant" gangs and rescued by the provisional IRA and being on the English MI6 watch list. He enjoyed Irish dancing into his 80s, founded a very active Irish heritage group, and traveled the country visiting or presenting at Irish festivals. He had learned who he was and it wasn't the frightened, bespeckled academic he had been taught to be. 

     It would be interesting, but I'm afraid that it would be depressing, to know how many people actually have the opportunity to learn who they really are. I'm seventy-four years old. Until I was twenty-one I spent as much time out in the mountains and forests as possible. I loved sleeping on the ground under a tree, canoeing down a fast stream, being in the middle of a forest far from humanity. It would have been interesting to know where that love might have led me, but, alas, my future was dictated by social systems.  It was understood that I would become some sort of academic or professional.  Ending up in medical school was a bit of a surprise, but it was in keeping with the dictates of my social systems. It was understood that I would end up in a "helping" profession. I have to credit my eldest grandson with being the catalyst of my enlightenment. 

     My eldest grandson, who was about seven at the time, wanted to run a 5k race at Disney World. His father had had a hip replacement, his mother was running the half-marathon, and his two sisters were in college. Even though I walked with a cane due to arthritis, I figured that I could hobble along for 3.1 miles. I didn't know there was a time limit. Long story short, I learned to walk, then run, and fell in love with running to the point that I was soon doing ultras - running 40-60 miles through mountains and deserts. It brought me back to what the social systems had forced me to give up when I was young. I started traveling the country running and living in a 5x8 cargo trailer that I fitted out with a bed, galley, chest of drawers, and table. 

     I lost my wife in 2011. Being disabled by a serious heart condition and a host of other problems, she had been my biggest cheerleader. Then I met Pamela in December of 2013. She had been a tri-athlete. She became my catalyst, my fast-track, to learning who I really am.  We clicked and by the spring of 2014 we had hit the road together in a sixteen foot 1980 trailer. We worked as volunteers for Glacier National Park. That's how we ended up Montana residents. 

     It was this opporunity that enabled me to learn who I really am. The farther off the grid we lived, the happier I was. We went to the deserts of southwestern Arizona for the winter and fell in love with the desert. Again, the farther off the grid, the happier I was. I can't express how happy I was to find myself, and I can't thank Pamela enough for helping me. 

     Thanks to Pamela and our nomadic life, I learned who I am.  I find that I love being a nomad. I love living and sauntering through  the wilderness. It is my natural home. I don't want a place to settle down. Sticks-n-bricks; the nomad's term for houses, scare me. I'm also pretty much of a recluse. If it weren't for Pamela, I'd be happy by myself for great lengths of time, as long as I had the wilderness. We are currently riding out the pandemic in a lovely home, with a wonderful 1.25 acre hollow, in a nice western Kentucky town. I'm happy spending my time here with Pamela.  Nevertheless, I'm desperately homesick for the wilderness. I've learned who I really am. 

     It is sad that it should take so long for the lucky few of us who learn who we really are. It is even more sad that so many people; I'd guess a vast majority; never have the opportunity. I can't help but wonder whether the real problem with humanity is that most people never have the opportunity to discover the real "me".  The more I study social systems, the more I find them the source of our misbehavior, our unhappiness and the barriers to becoming who we really are, the more angry I become. Perhaps, rather than try to make sense of the horrible destructive, violent, apathetic society, I should be focusing on how people can overcome the social systems that misdirect us, mislead and misinform us, and create the evil, destructive, violent creatures we've become. 

     With this realization, my heart goes out to the uneducated, misdirected masses who have become the almost mindless, definitely unsuspecting, slaves of the social systems. It will be hard to free them. The social systems love to vilify the intellectuals; i.e. people who think on their own. It appears to be coming down to a battle between the social systems and the intellectuals. The prize is the freedom of the masses who still think that "this is all there is in life."