To Know Me is to Love Me

I have chosen not to be an anonymous blogger because I am willing to be held accountable for what I publish. It's OK if a reader disagrees with me or criticizes what I write. It will make me a better writer and thinker. Likewise, if I write something that is factually wrong, being corrected is what is best. It's better to be right than to prevail. Fair fight and all that.

Many bloggers and commentators choose to be anonymous in order to vent, go hyperbolic, or get their righteous snark on. You have seen their emotional contributions trying to sway, attack, defend, crush, protect or push a point of view. Without being identified with their beliefs, arguments, mindset, biases, language or wrong-headedness. It makes the marketplace of ideas a messy place indeed. It can be argued, in a few cases, that anonymity is required to protect the whistle-blower, the person in a job whose boss might punish the expression of a contrary view, etc. I can see that, but I think it is definitely an exception rather than the rule.

Stanley Fish has a thoughtful piece on this in the New York Times. It is a good departure point for a discussion about what is good and useful about the free speech elements of the internet and how it should be viewed, protected, guided, etc. I am grateful for anyone who opens a topic as mindfully as Fish does.

When I think of blogging, I wish Mark Twain were around today. Even though that was not his "real name" he became so identified with it, he was for all purposes that man. Would he have been an anonymous blogger? Would Will Rogers? Mencken? Would any of these writers been held back by putting their names next to their opinions, criticisms or arguments? Doubtful.

One of the great things about encountering people in any marketplace is knowing who they are. Knowing who someone is generates conviviality; indeed, one is more apt disagree respectfully with someone you know. I grew up in a family of debaters where we often disagreed about many things. Having good arguments and sound evidence was an entry level requirement to survive a dispute over any issue from the relative strength of comic book superheroes to what was the best dessert to who was the best president. It would be wrong to say that none of those arguments ended in physical conflict, but to this day, I love and respect the siblings who disagreed with me.

As a society--and increasingly, the world--that increasingly cherishes free speech and exchange of ideas, it seems we are better served by leaning more directly in the direction of accountability, responsibility and transparency in the conduct of public discussions. If you want me to agree with your point of view, let me know who you are.

Ends of time

I have been aware of periods in my life when opportunities to do things, or be things are passing me by. Parenthood, something I have no strong feeling about except that it be done lovingly and mindfully is all but gone from my life's horizon. Many career choices are passed now, too.

Physically, time has put limits on me, too. I don't think I will ever pursue downhill skiing and I expect I only have--maybe--ten years left to do cross country skiing. I am done with distance running but I still love climbing the mountain overlooking our valley, and hiking. Becoming a serious writer, blocked my who life by a combination of laziness and intimidation, is still out there with the same obstacles as always. I have gone past mastery of many things.

Two types of snow shovelers

There are two types of snow shovelers. The ones who get up in the morning, or go out late at night as the snow falls, or has just stopped falling, and clear their walks, edge to edge, down to concrete.
And then there is everyone else.

"Edge to edge, down to concrete" was my father's standard. More often than I care to remember on a dark snowy morning I was awakened from teen-age slumber by him to get dressed, bundled up and sent out into the Montana winter to shovel the walks in front of our house and the walks of the church, a handsome building righteously occupying a corner lot. I would have rather slept warmly.

Today, I fiercely follow my fathers snow shoveling standard. A cleared walk in winter is a commitment to participate in both neighborhood and civilization. It is a fundamental way we take care of one another. It is how we say, "I know the going is tough through all this snow and ice, but here, where I live, I want you to have a clear, dry surface to ease your way." I have many failings but uncleared walks is not one of them.

Who or What Are You?

At times, especially during the high arc of election cycles, we are prompted by others to identify ourselves--are you a Republican or a Democrat? Conservative or Liberal? Tea Party or Person-trying-to-take-away-my-government-by-trying-to-do-something-about-the-nation's-problems? It is part of the explaining the world thing--if we think we can categorize others, we can cope with them, avoid offending them, anticipate them, understand them, control them. We can use labels to diminish, simplify, judge, demonize and destroy.

In lesser ways, we do this, too. What do you do for a living? Is this your boyfriend/girlfriend,husband/wife? What church do you go to? Did you go to college? These are all ways we attempt to gather information which allows us to categorize others.

That is probably the second best way to learn about someone. Instead of "what" why don't we ask the more pertinent question: Who are you? After all, isn't that what we want to know?

I can see asking the Who rather than the What creating difficulty in our social exchanges. We are so conditioned to guard our information, color impressions, etc. in order for the answer to the What question to help us, or at least not hurt us. Giving useful, honest answers to the Who question takes some thought and some practice, but I bet it would help us get along a little bit better.

Who are you?

Person to Person

There are two kinds of persons in the United States. The first kind, the biological kind, are born, have DNA, are able to feel pain and a huge range of emotions, think, decide, believe, vote, create, procreate and die. The second kind are creations of the first kind. Not a messy procreation like birth or in a laboratory like the Frankenstein monster, but something that occurs on paper and in documents filed with government officials. The second kind of person can acquire and own stuff, can sell stuff, and can promote stuff, laws and political candidates. It can even live forever. It can act in its interest and the interest of its stockholders [sort of--as if every stockholder's interest could be known to and accounted for in the decisions which are made], and a host of other things. It cannot do the things the first kind of person does unless one of the first kind of persons acts a an agent to do them. The second kind of person is a corporation. Who, other than the U.S. Supreme Court feels these two persons are the same thing deserving the same kind of protections, duties and obligations?

I get that corporations have some useful role in our society but they are created to do something that individuals or groups cannot do. Therefore, they are different. Pretty plain to see that distinction.

hup, trup, tree, fo'

Moving your body on the 1 and 3 are comfortable and familiar. Just watch white guys dance--that's where their comfort zone is widest. It's like marching--left foot on the 1 and 3. That said, if you can get to the 2 and 4, it's something altogether different. Something that moves the hips a little differently, something a little dirtier about the dancing.

I'm no dancer--I lost my dancing mojo one very tall girlfriend ago. She was a true athlete and everything physical with her was better. On the 2 and 4. Oh, yeah.

It's in a circle, though...

Is the yin a tear of joy and the yang a tear of sorrow, or is it the other way around?