Good afternoon.
We are now
approaching the end of the canicular time of year. We look forward to it all during
Jan-Feb-March, and then (at least some of us) don't want to dree the heat and
humidity so we stay inside in the air-conditioned house or office. Such is part of the ambivalence many feel
about weather in the upper Midwest.
(Yeah, I had fun with a couple of words I ran across.)
* * *
I didn't
even have to read this article to think "no kidding?" "Aging overweight scuba divers at risk
of underwater heart attack."
* * *
For reasons
that now escape me, Kathy and I were talking the other night about the
desirability of having available a "magic pill." If you were to take the pill, you would drift
off to sleep, never to awaken. I am sure
that there are reams and reams of material written on the subject of rational
suicide; I have read none of it. These
are merely reflections on a conversation over cocktails.
I have just
enough of a libertarian streak in me—a small but not insignificant one—that I
don't believe it's anyone else's business if I were to decide I wanted to
exit. I should not need permission from
anyone or any authority. After a certain
age--*what* age is debatable, it could be 50, 60, 70—anyone should be eligible
to take the magic pill. Younger than
that, I'd accept the proposition that there should be restrictions (but not
outright denial, just a more considered evaluation).
At first I thought one should simply
be able to have such a pill in possession, to use at will. Upon further reflection—but still largely off
the top of my head—I realized that it could all too easily become a weapon of homicide.
Such a pill should not, it seems obvious, be provided to someone with dementia,
hallucinations, or any other psychopathology or psychiatric disorder. So while I don't believe permission should be
needed—for anyone of sound mind of a certain age—I think perhaps that one
should have to go to a designated location, with trained professionals present,
who will give you the pill once they've ascertained you are in possession of
your faculties. (Requiring such a trip
would impose a desirable small hurdle that might be enough to make people
re-think their decision. If they did
stop to re-think it, one suspects that in most such cases the decision to want
to take the pill might not have been as firm as the person thought.)
There would no doubt be an uproar
among "right to life" circles.
The argument isn't quite the same as in the abortion debate,
however. In the latter, the case is made
that abortion takes the life of another, someone unable to speak for
him/herself. With the magic pill,
however, it is a decision about one's own life.
I imagine many religious groups and organizations would be opposed to
allowing ingestion of the magic pill.
I'd argue, however, that it's none of their business what I want to do.
No, I have no interest in taking
the magic pill, certainly not at this time of my life. Nor do I (did we) have anyone in mind when we
were talking about it (in case anyone reading this thinks we might have had you
as someone who should be considering the option!).
* * *
I usually
don't touch very much on politics in these messages. The current political situation simply raises
my blood pressure and pulse, which is not good for someone who turns 67
today. Moreover, I doubt seriously any
preaching I do on politics here will have any effect whatever in changing
anyone's mind, if that were my objective.
So I don't bother.
In a departure from my usual
stance, however, I cite a piece that Ed Simon wrote in berfrois that I finally decided I agree with. He begins:
"If your politics are anything like mine, which is to say that you
abhor wanton cruelties enacted against children, then surely, you’ve said it,
or at least thought it – Donald Trump is an evil man." (I sent the article to a few friends
earlier, so for them these few paragraphs will be repetition.)
As a friend
of mine observed, those who are politically liberal are uncomfortable with the
term "evil" because using it in political and public policy matters
risks bringing theology into government.
"Evil" is a judgment, an evaluation, usually founded on
scripture. Inasmuch as most liberals
vigorously endorse a "wall of separation" between church and state,
"evil" isn't a term commonly used on the political left. Simon continues, making the same point.
That word – evil. A theologian’s
word, a churchman’s word, a priest’s word. We might use it in frustration, born
out of our sense of defeated helplessness after seeing images of children
locked in cages. We use it after looking at the photo of a mother tying her
toddler’s shoes in the seconds before being possibly separated forever. . .
. We use it when we consider that
thousands of children in the United States of America are being held hostage by
an illegitimate and criminal administration who are using them as a bargaining
chip. . . . What word then is more
adequate than “evil” to describe what the U.S. government is now doing?
Evil. I don’t want you to just use
the word. Don’t just use it as rhetorical intensifier. As pressure gage for
your own anger. As goad for those who still support these obvious travesties. .
. . I want you to deeply, completely,
and totally understand it for what it literally means. I want you to grapple
with the full implications. I don’t want us to think of this as simply a
political issue, or even as simply a moral one. I don’t want us to ever discuss
this in terms of “civil discourse,” or “agreement and disagreement.” I don’t
want any equivocation, ambiguity, or skepticism to cloud our language, and I do
not care about the fragile emotions of people so stupid, craven, or wicked
themselves that they have supported such atrocities. I want us to say it
clearly and literally. I want us to say it as the theologian would. As the churchman.
As the priest. I want us to shout it fully knowing its profound truth. That
Jeff Sessions is an evil man. Stephen Miller is an evil man. Donald Trump is an
evil man.
I cannot
identify the standards by which I finally conclude that an act is evil. It may be that I stand with Justice Stewart
in his approach to pornography: I can't
define it but I know it when I see it.
My only disagreement with Mr. Simon is that his focus is too
narrow. Other actions of the
administration will have significant impact on our lives and the lives of our
children and grandchildren (if those actions are not reversed). To mention two off the top of my head, weakening
clean air and water standards, so more will be sick and die, and attempting in
every way possible to make health insurance unavailable or too expensive, so
more will be sick and die. It is not
just the children, although they are the most outrageous example.
After
writing about the use of the term evil, Mr. Simon concludes, with a paragraph
another friend of mine expressed envy about (envy that my friend himself had
not written the paragraph):
The myth of American exceptionality
is finally dead; one day if we’re to even scrub an inch of this painful stain
off of the nation it will require truth and reconciliation committees, it will
require trials, and the actual imprisonment of the architects of these
policies. Trump, Sessions, and Miller deserve to expire in prisons feeling the
fear felt by these children and their parents. Most likely, when the time
comes, Trump will go out corpulent and satisfied at Mar-a-Lago, living out his
days tweeting and bloviating and engorging himself. And if I know anything of
my country – and I know something of my country – the press will write about
how he was divisive but fresh, polarizing but blunt. And they’ll mitigate his
crimes and apologize for his crimes. And what I want you to remember on that
day is that any comfort that man received was undeserved, and that he should
hope that heaven has no justice.
If I know
it when I see it, then I must conclude, like Mr. Simon, that I am seeing evil.
* * *
Last spring
I invited Pat (Krystin's mom), Elliott, Peggy Hinz, and Christine Lenzen (mom
and daughter) to come for brunch in July and we would scatter Krystin's ashes
under the maple tree in our back yard that Krystin brought home as a seedling
when she was in kindergarten. Peggy and
Christine were like family for Krystin.
Peggy has been taking care of Krystin's two cats for several years (and
now permanently); Christine has been Krystin's friend since they met at daycare
when they were both 2 years old.
We all got
together briefly on a July morning and scattered a few ashes (and then went out
to eat). But not many ashes: I thought to look on the web about human
remains and learned that they are toxic to trees and plants. So it was ceremonial.
I'm pretty
sure I did the right thing. On her
Facebook page on July 15, 2014, Krystin noted a link to goodnewsnetwork.org and
an article titled "Biodegradable Urns Will Turn You Into A Tree After You
Die." She wrote in her post that
"I want to be a tree when I die!
But I want to be a bonsai. That
doesn't seem to be an option." I know
she was probably just being silly, which she liked to be on Facebook posts, but
I also suspect that the post reflected her general sentiment about her remains.
"We may look as if we carry on with our lives as
before. We may even have times of joy and happiness. Everything may seem 'normal.' But THIS, 'Emptiness' is how we all feel . .
. all the time." – John Maddox (The
artwork is called Melancholy by Albert György & is on display in Geneva,
Switzerland). "It takes my breath
away, and I am transported to that emptiness. Every time. And through time." Thanks to Barbara Elliott for drawing my
attention to this quotation and sculpture.
Another friend later also sent it to me.
It captures the emotions perfectly.
* * *
I'll put my
correction at the end. In my last
missive I alluded to Linus Pauling and vitamin D. Pauling advocated massive doses of vitamin C,
not D. That's what I get when I make a
reference quickly without checking. I
check almost all of what I write—and when I don't, of course I err. Argh.
* * *
OK, this
epistle turned out to be a little somber.
I didn't intend that focus, and as I send this out, I'm not at all
somber (other than seeing that another year has gone by in a flash—ugh). Enjoy the remainder of the summer! I'm off this evening for a marvelous dinner
with my beloved spouse and son at one of my favorite restaurants.
Gary
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