The other night the evening news ran a story about a guy who’s traveling the country correcting grammatical errors in signs he sees--an apostrophe here, one deleted there, spelling mistakes, the like. He’s found a lot of them. I particularly liked the sign promoting stationery, for people to write on, where the company itself had spelled it “stationary,” something that stands still. I thought it was a cool way to travel. I wonder if he gets paid.
As someone schooled in English, I often wince at its “slaughter.” Newscasters particularly gall me. They have almost completely dropped the “ly” from adverbs, words that modify, or describe verbs (words of action, for those who’ve been away from the blackboard a while!)--drive safe, when it should be drive safely, eat healthy when it should be eat healthily. Healthy and safe modify nouns--a healthy snack, a healthy boy, a safe drive, a safe trip to grandmother’s house. I’m irked because they are supposed to know better, being also schooled in English. And, I am irked because I suspect the reason they butcher the language (this is only one example) is to make it fit their sound-bite time constraints.
Another side of me thinks there can be too much nit-picking. After all, I still understand the message. When they say, “Drive safe,” they mean, “Drive safely,” or “Have a safe drive.” And isn’t that ultimately the aim of language? To convey a message?
I also know that there is a difference between the written word and the spoken word. And I like the variations. They keep language, and communication, vibrant and dynamic and fun. Still, there are times and places, and, as the old saying goes, you must know the rules to break them. Knowing the rules, and purposefully breaking them gives them even more meaning, the original conventional meaning and the new one created by the juxtaposition between the accepted and the “broken” usage. But if the original rule is not known, much of the meaning and nuance of language is lost.
In watching HBO’s series, “John Adams,” this winter, I was struck by how the language has changed since the birth of the United States. It takes some close listening to understand all they are saying! They speak in eloquent, drawn out sentences that convey well-crafted and complete, no-room-left-for-doubt, thoughts. They have true discussions. Nowadays, people seem more likely to string together a series of phrases, a sort of stream-of-consciousness thing that conjures up images--you get the gist, but it’s lacking in finely tuned articulation. Such is the evolution of language.
Getting back to those typos and errors: PBS’ “Nova” recently examined the hieroglyphs of the ancient Mayan civilization. It was a difficult code to crack because the language had so many systematic variations. There would be no room for a typo--not only because they are carved in stone, but because it would drastically change the meaning of the symbol. I wonder what linguists 3000 years from now will think of our “code”--and if they'll be able to crack it!
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Friday, March 07, 2008
Downer Cows and Hamburger.
I heard about it in passing, read about it on my computer. I tried my best not to actually see it, but in the end, I couldn’t avoid the videotape showing cows being shoved to their slaughter with forklifts and cattle prods. I winced. I like cows. I’ve worked with cows. In college, I took a job at a dairy. Cows remind me of dogs really, playful, friendly, and kind of dumb (as in, happy-go-lucky, not stupid, definitely not stupid).
I don’t like people mistreating cows, but if that’s all it was, I could wince and let it go. After all, people mistreat people (which may be part of why I wince). But, this incident involves the food chain. People are being fed hamburgers made from cows too sick to stand up. It is against the law, and it is not a healthy thing to do.
Fortunately, government officials have recalled the meat, most of which, they say, has, unfortunately, probably already been consumed. They also assure us we probably won’t get sick. That’s a relief--except that they cannot know that. The fact that nobody is puking their guts out simply means no one has been infected (badly enough) with E. Coli. This is good. E. Coli can be deadly, especially to children.
But E Coli. is only one concern. Mad cow disease, a far more serious concern, can take many years to show itself, and one of its initial symptoms is loss of balance. This is why cows that cannot stand up are to be kept from the food chain.
Of course the employees responsible for the using the sick cattle have been fired, though no action was taken against the company itself. But we would be fooling ourselves to think this an isolated case. I suspect this is very much standard practice. And that should have consumers worried.
Americans must stop thinking with their pocketbooks--or more accurately, they should start thinking with their whole pocket book. Factoring in the price of illness--of insurance, of medical care, of lost wages, not even considering quality of life-- it quickly becomes more cost effective to spend a bit more for better quality food, for stricter standards, for better cared for cows.
A friend of mine would say it's all about who makes the money. As it stands, the insurance, health care, and meat industries are making the lion’s share. I like to think my glasses are still tinted too pink to believe it such a conspiracy, but if there is any truth to what my friend says, it is all the more reason those eating the meat must take things into their own hands and demand better. We can only be as healthy as the food we eat.
As for that E. Coli everyone fears: it wouldn’t even exist if cows were allowed graze grass the way they are intended. But they are pumped full of grains their digestive tracts can’t handle. Their intestines become inflamed and infected. The result is industry overuse of antibiotics, and the rise of an increasingly virulent form of bacteria.
I don’t like people mistreating cows, but if that’s all it was, I could wince and let it go. After all, people mistreat people (which may be part of why I wince). But, this incident involves the food chain. People are being fed hamburgers made from cows too sick to stand up. It is against the law, and it is not a healthy thing to do.
Fortunately, government officials have recalled the meat, most of which, they say, has, unfortunately, probably already been consumed. They also assure us we probably won’t get sick. That’s a relief--except that they cannot know that. The fact that nobody is puking their guts out simply means no one has been infected (badly enough) with E. Coli. This is good. E. Coli can be deadly, especially to children.
But E Coli. is only one concern. Mad cow disease, a far more serious concern, can take many years to show itself, and one of its initial symptoms is loss of balance. This is why cows that cannot stand up are to be kept from the food chain.
Of course the employees responsible for the using the sick cattle have been fired, though no action was taken against the company itself. But we would be fooling ourselves to think this an isolated case. I suspect this is very much standard practice. And that should have consumers worried.
Americans must stop thinking with their pocketbooks--or more accurately, they should start thinking with their whole pocket book. Factoring in the price of illness--of insurance, of medical care, of lost wages, not even considering quality of life-- it quickly becomes more cost effective to spend a bit more for better quality food, for stricter standards, for better cared for cows.
A friend of mine would say it's all about who makes the money. As it stands, the insurance, health care, and meat industries are making the lion’s share. I like to think my glasses are still tinted too pink to believe it such a conspiracy, but if there is any truth to what my friend says, it is all the more reason those eating the meat must take things into their own hands and demand better. We can only be as healthy as the food we eat.
As for that E. Coli everyone fears: it wouldn’t even exist if cows were allowed graze grass the way they are intended. But they are pumped full of grains their digestive tracts can’t handle. Their intestines become inflamed and infected. The result is industry overuse of antibiotics, and the rise of an increasingly virulent form of bacteria.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Happy Cows Give More Milk
Cows give more and better milk when they are exposed to music. It’s true. It is thought that the music calms them, they relax, and outcomes improve. Happy cows produce better product.
It stands to reason people work better when they are happy too.
As I look back at my elementary school years, my favorite teachers were the teachers who made learning fun. I can still name the teachers--and many of the things they taught me. They made me want to go to school, and inspired me to reach for knowledge.
My first boss, at Ponderosa when I was sixteen--his name was Stephen Cable--spoiled me for the workplace. He is, to this day, the best boss I ever had. As I have encountered “lesser” bosses along the way, I have tried to analyze what made Cable so great.
First of all, like my teachers, he made work fun. It wasn’t just me. The entire work crew at that Ponderosa loved Stephen Cable. There wasn’t a person there who wouldn’t work overtime, or fill in on another position, or do just anything he asked.
It went beyond fun though. He made us feel we were a part of something important, and that our contribution mattered. He respected us, and included us, and didn’t ask us to do anything he wouldn’t do himself.
I remember him pitching in to bus tables on busy nights--and I remember him helping me bus on a slow afternoon, using the time to “pick my brain” about how we could make things run more smoothly.
Cable didn't last long as manager. After he took our store from the bottom to the top in sales for the region, he was promoted to vice president.
Like I said, Cable spoiled me. I moved on to other jobs with great expectation and anticipation--only to find that the majority of my bosses were egocentric power-brokers, interested in taking the credit for the work of their “minions,” and not much interested in doing any of the work.
To be fair, I have also had some good bosses, and I have worked for them faithfully, and learned from them too, but Stephen Cable still shines forth as the best.
I have some good friends who have lately shared their frustrations with their workplaces--and their bosses. I am, as a writer, self-employed. It has its downsides, but one benefit is that I can choose for whom I work. I choose to work for people who value my talents, who give me the credit due me, who understand that a happy worker is a more productive, and loyal worker.
It’s too bad that so many businesses can’t see beyond the “bottom line” to realize they work with people--and ultimately, for people.
If you were a cow, would you be more inclined to give milk to someone who beat you with a stick, or prodded you in the ribs, or would you give your rich sweet milk to the one who played you Mozart?
It stands to reason people work better when they are happy too.
As I look back at my elementary school years, my favorite teachers were the teachers who made learning fun. I can still name the teachers--and many of the things they taught me. They made me want to go to school, and inspired me to reach for knowledge.
My first boss, at Ponderosa when I was sixteen--his name was Stephen Cable--spoiled me for the workplace. He is, to this day, the best boss I ever had. As I have encountered “lesser” bosses along the way, I have tried to analyze what made Cable so great.
First of all, like my teachers, he made work fun. It wasn’t just me. The entire work crew at that Ponderosa loved Stephen Cable. There wasn’t a person there who wouldn’t work overtime, or fill in on another position, or do just anything he asked.
It went beyond fun though. He made us feel we were a part of something important, and that our contribution mattered. He respected us, and included us, and didn’t ask us to do anything he wouldn’t do himself.
I remember him pitching in to bus tables on busy nights--and I remember him helping me bus on a slow afternoon, using the time to “pick my brain” about how we could make things run more smoothly.
Cable didn't last long as manager. After he took our store from the bottom to the top in sales for the region, he was promoted to vice president.
Like I said, Cable spoiled me. I moved on to other jobs with great expectation and anticipation--only to find that the majority of my bosses were egocentric power-brokers, interested in taking the credit for the work of their “minions,” and not much interested in doing any of the work.
To be fair, I have also had some good bosses, and I have worked for them faithfully, and learned from them too, but Stephen Cable still shines forth as the best.
I have some good friends who have lately shared their frustrations with their workplaces--and their bosses. I am, as a writer, self-employed. It has its downsides, but one benefit is that I can choose for whom I work. I choose to work for people who value my talents, who give me the credit due me, who understand that a happy worker is a more productive, and loyal worker.
It’s too bad that so many businesses can’t see beyond the “bottom line” to realize they work with people--and ultimately, for people.
If you were a cow, would you be more inclined to give milk to someone who beat you with a stick, or prodded you in the ribs, or would you give your rich sweet milk to the one who played you Mozart?
Friday, February 01, 2008
The Oldest Profession.
One of my favorite movies is Pretty Woman, starring Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. What’s not to like? The movie is a modern day Cinderella story, set in Hollywood, where “everybody’s got a dream,” and is replete with beautiful clothes, cars, and five-star entertainment--polo, and the San Francisco opera, attended by private jet.
The story begins when a lost tycoon, Edward, stops to ask directions of a streetwalker on Hollywood Boulevard. The streetwalker, Vivian, shows him by driving him there in the fancy sports car he has borrowed from his lawyer and does not know how to drive because, as he tells Vivian, his first car "was a limousine."
Edward hires Vivian to be his escort for the week, and the two fall in love--natch. In fact, just about everyone in the movie--and in the theatre audience--falls for Vivian as she “cleans up” and learns to act like a lady. In a refreshing twist, as Edward climbs the fire escape to rescue his lady from the tower of her barely-scraping-by-lifestyle, she “rescues him right back” from his shallow, meaningless existence.
Pretty Woman is a delightful romantic comedy, but I think there is a deeper discussion taking place in the movie. The love story provides an examination of the nature of prostitution. While Vivian is the obvious prostitute, Edward, and his lawyer, are the less obvious--cloaked in their financial success and upper-class trappings.
A prostitute, according to the Oxford American dictionary, is "a person who misuses their talents or who sacrifices their self-respect for the sake of personal or financial gain." Prostitution, then, involves “put[ting] [oneself or one's talents] to an unworthy or corrupt use or purpose for the sake of personal or financial gain.” To prostitute is to “betray, demean, devalue or cheapen [one’s principles].”
As Vivian learns, Edward has made his untold wealth buying companies in financial trouble, and reselling them in “parts.” He and his lawyer have been partners for years and are not above playing dirty to get what they want. “So you don’t build anything?” Vivian responds, uncomfortable with the nature of his business.
Edward himself confirms the commonality of their businesses. “We are such similar creatures, you and I,” he tells Vivian, “we both screw people for money.”
Vivian reveals a newfound understanding of her own as she refuses Edward’s offer of financial support. “That’s just geography,” she replies, when he argues that it will get her off the streets.
In the end, they both change their ways--Edward agrees to build ships with the guy he’s been trying to ruin, and Vivian leaves the boulevard for Edward’s world.
I find it ironic that society admires one kind of prostitution, and frowns on the other. I am reminded of the Jackson Browne lyric, “It’s who you look like, not who you are.” What a shame. I suspect much honest talent flies under the radar--and much falsity is taken for true gold.
The story begins when a lost tycoon, Edward, stops to ask directions of a streetwalker on Hollywood Boulevard. The streetwalker, Vivian, shows him by driving him there in the fancy sports car he has borrowed from his lawyer and does not know how to drive because, as he tells Vivian, his first car "was a limousine."
Edward hires Vivian to be his escort for the week, and the two fall in love--natch. In fact, just about everyone in the movie--and in the theatre audience--falls for Vivian as she “cleans up” and learns to act like a lady. In a refreshing twist, as Edward climbs the fire escape to rescue his lady from the tower of her barely-scraping-by-lifestyle, she “rescues him right back” from his shallow, meaningless existence.
Pretty Woman is a delightful romantic comedy, but I think there is a deeper discussion taking place in the movie. The love story provides an examination of the nature of prostitution. While Vivian is the obvious prostitute, Edward, and his lawyer, are the less obvious--cloaked in their financial success and upper-class trappings.
A prostitute, according to the Oxford American dictionary, is "a person who misuses their talents or who sacrifices their self-respect for the sake of personal or financial gain." Prostitution, then, involves “put[ting] [oneself or one's talents] to an unworthy or corrupt use or purpose for the sake of personal or financial gain.” To prostitute is to “betray, demean, devalue or cheapen [one’s principles].”
As Vivian learns, Edward has made his untold wealth buying companies in financial trouble, and reselling them in “parts.” He and his lawyer have been partners for years and are not above playing dirty to get what they want. “So you don’t build anything?” Vivian responds, uncomfortable with the nature of his business.
Edward himself confirms the commonality of their businesses. “We are such similar creatures, you and I,” he tells Vivian, “we both screw people for money.”
Vivian reveals a newfound understanding of her own as she refuses Edward’s offer of financial support. “That’s just geography,” she replies, when he argues that it will get her off the streets.
In the end, they both change their ways--Edward agrees to build ships with the guy he’s been trying to ruin, and Vivian leaves the boulevard for Edward’s world.
I find it ironic that society admires one kind of prostitution, and frowns on the other. I am reminded of the Jackson Browne lyric, “It’s who you look like, not who you are.” What a shame. I suspect much honest talent flies under the radar--and much falsity is taken for true gold.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
MLK, Jr.: Passionate about Peace.
It is unfortunate that Martin Luther King, Jr. Day has emerged as an “optional” holiday. Most of us get up, go to work, and conduct our business as usual. If banks and post offices weren’t closed, many of us wouldn’t even know that January 21 was a holiday!
I suppose there are members of the Caucasian community who consider it an African-American holiday with little relevance. And perhaps some of the African American community wants it to be just “their” holiday. But I don’t think that is what Martin Luther King, Jr. would want.
Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream--and it was a dream for all mankind, a dream of peaceful coexistence--and of true freedom.
In his famous speech, “I Have a Dream,” King says of his vision, “It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed--we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” The bottom line issue, he said, was “injustice,” the true oppressor, poverty.
While King’s vision was for “all God’s children” alike, he did not whitewash the divide between blacks and whites that has existed because of the abuse and degradation of the slave system. Slavery fostered separate cultures, as well as the fear and distrust that stand between us still. King addressed this divide by dreaming that “one day . . . sons of former slaves and sons of former slave owners [would] be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”
But King knew this brotherhood could not be forced. He insisted that violence would only lead to more violence. “Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred,” he told his listeners. “We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plain of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.” Such sage words--for the 1960s, when he gave his speech--and for now, as America wages wars, and as African Americans, divided and frustrated, often fight each other.
It seems America has stalled out in the movement for justice, civil rights, and the abolishment of poverty. The nation has regressed into segregated schools and neighborhoods.
I wish we would all embrace King’s vision, and commemorate his birthday by reaching out to those who are different from us and by making an effort to learn from, and about, each other. Maybe then we would again feel the fire of inspiration, pick up the banner, and march for the common cause we all pledge allegiance to: one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
I can’t think of a better tribute to the man who lends his name to this holiday--and who gave his life for the dream of peace.
I suppose there are members of the Caucasian community who consider it an African-American holiday with little relevance. And perhaps some of the African American community wants it to be just “their” holiday. But I don’t think that is what Martin Luther King, Jr. would want.
Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream--and it was a dream for all mankind, a dream of peaceful coexistence--and of true freedom.
In his famous speech, “I Have a Dream,” King says of his vision, “It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed--we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” The bottom line issue, he said, was “injustice,” the true oppressor, poverty.
While King’s vision was for “all God’s children” alike, he did not whitewash the divide between blacks and whites that has existed because of the abuse and degradation of the slave system. Slavery fostered separate cultures, as well as the fear and distrust that stand between us still. King addressed this divide by dreaming that “one day . . . sons of former slaves and sons of former slave owners [would] be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”
But King knew this brotherhood could not be forced. He insisted that violence would only lead to more violence. “Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred,” he told his listeners. “We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plain of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.” Such sage words--for the 1960s, when he gave his speech--and for now, as America wages wars, and as African Americans, divided and frustrated, often fight each other.
It seems America has stalled out in the movement for justice, civil rights, and the abolishment of poverty. The nation has regressed into segregated schools and neighborhoods.
I wish we would all embrace King’s vision, and commemorate his birthday by reaching out to those who are different from us and by making an effort to learn from, and about, each other. Maybe then we would again feel the fire of inspiration, pick up the banner, and march for the common cause we all pledge allegiance to: one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
I can’t think of a better tribute to the man who lends his name to this holiday--and who gave his life for the dream of peace.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
The Winter Solstice: Heading for Spring!
Yea! The days are getting longer! We’ve passed the winter solstice. December 22 marked the point in Earth’s annual trip around the sun where its tilt changes--and the days begin to get longer again!
I have realized that, more than the cold, more than the snow, more than anything about winter (well, maybe not the heating bills . . .), I hate that the sun goes down at 5 and doesn’t rise until 8 the next morning.
I am not the only one who celebrates the lengthening of days. In fact, it is the single most universal and ancient of celebrations. What I mean is, nearly every civilization since the beginning of recorded time has celebrated the winter solstice--Mayans, Native Americans, Persians, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and eventually, Europeans, whose traditions modern western societies have incorporated into their Christmas holidays.
Structures like the famous Stonehenge--and numerous others--are ancient, but precise, calendars marking the solstices, both winter and summer, as well as the equinoxes of spring and autumn.
The seasons were extremely important to the agricultural communities, and concerns for the food that ensured their survival was paramount. Early peoples were afraid of “the day the sun stood still,”fearing it would not bless them and their crops again. They also feared the forces of evil they believed ruled the dark. They pleaded with their gods to return the sun to the earth. They lit fires and candles in homage to the sun.
Many of these celebrations recognized a “reversal of order.” Feasts--often served by the masters to the slaves--marked the season, and criminals were pardoned. Presents were exchanged. Homes were decorated with “powerful” evergreens for good luck. Holly was hung around doors and windows, in Scandinavian countries, to snag evil spirits trying to enter the buildings.
Mistletoe was especially magical. It was the sacred “Golden Bough” of the Druids and the Norse, and protected the Celts from evil. To Native Americans, it was the medicinal “All Heal.” And in Scandinavian tradition, soldiers meeting under it in the forest were obliged to observe a truce.
There was of course, practicality to many of these rites. The fires helped warm the people in winter, the feasts supplied extra fat reserves for the lean months ahead, and the celebrations provided recreation during a season that was slow--between harvest and planting--and dreary.
It is amazing how much of this holds true today. I guess the old adage, “the more things change, the more they stay the same” holds some sway. The sun is still a symbol of rebirth and hope.
And so, even as winter descends, I will sip my hot cider (a remnant Romanian fertility rite), content to bide my time and comforted by the knowledge that the days are getting longer--and spring is on the horizon.
I have realized that, more than the cold, more than the snow, more than anything about winter (well, maybe not the heating bills . . .), I hate that the sun goes down at 5 and doesn’t rise until 8 the next morning.
I am not the only one who celebrates the lengthening of days. In fact, it is the single most universal and ancient of celebrations. What I mean is, nearly every civilization since the beginning of recorded time has celebrated the winter solstice--Mayans, Native Americans, Persians, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and eventually, Europeans, whose traditions modern western societies have incorporated into their Christmas holidays.
Structures like the famous Stonehenge--and numerous others--are ancient, but precise, calendars marking the solstices, both winter and summer, as well as the equinoxes of spring and autumn.
The seasons were extremely important to the agricultural communities, and concerns for the food that ensured their survival was paramount. Early peoples were afraid of “the day the sun stood still,”fearing it would not bless them and their crops again. They also feared the forces of evil they believed ruled the dark. They pleaded with their gods to return the sun to the earth. They lit fires and candles in homage to the sun.
Many of these celebrations recognized a “reversal of order.” Feasts--often served by the masters to the slaves--marked the season, and criminals were pardoned. Presents were exchanged. Homes were decorated with “powerful” evergreens for good luck. Holly was hung around doors and windows, in Scandinavian countries, to snag evil spirits trying to enter the buildings.
Mistletoe was especially magical. It was the sacred “Golden Bough” of the Druids and the Norse, and protected the Celts from evil. To Native Americans, it was the medicinal “All Heal.” And in Scandinavian tradition, soldiers meeting under it in the forest were obliged to observe a truce.
There was of course, practicality to many of these rites. The fires helped warm the people in winter, the feasts supplied extra fat reserves for the lean months ahead, and the celebrations provided recreation during a season that was slow--between harvest and planting--and dreary.
It is amazing how much of this holds true today. I guess the old adage, “the more things change, the more they stay the same” holds some sway. The sun is still a symbol of rebirth and hope.
And so, even as winter descends, I will sip my hot cider (a remnant Romanian fertility rite), content to bide my time and comforted by the knowledge that the days are getting longer--and spring is on the horizon.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
A River Runs.
Last week I watched a story on the news about how the Yangtze River in China is the life’s blood of the country, and has been for as long as it has existed. The piece showed how industry and other development is impacting the river, and the people who live along its edge.
Many of these people literally live off the land. They grow their food, hauling water from the river, raise what animals they might use--for food, for labor, for clothing--and live, simply, but fully. They make very little in the way of money, but they don’t need much--they sustain their own needs.
But the skyscrapers in the background are creeping closer.
I would like to think that the developers, when they want the farmers’ land, will buy it from them for a fair price, a price that makes it worth their moving, that let’s them, essentially retire.
Unfortunately, I know better. I’ve witnessed similar scenarios in my own country, and I’ve learned that the languages of commerce and profiteering are universal. The developers will bide their time, build around the farms, isolating them, violating their borders, maybe blocking access to the water the farmers so desperately need. The government may even step in,condemning the farms as "blight." The farmers. with no financial wealth, will have no power to fight and will be forced out. Some folks call this “good business.” I call it rape and pillage. It has been going on since the beginning of time--but that doesn’t make it right.
As humankind of the 21st Century, we consider ourselves at the height of civilization. We boast of the progress we’ve made. Indeed, many will respond to the plight of the Chinese farmers by shrugging and saying, “You can’t stand in the way of progress.” But having the bigger bulldozer does not equal progress--it is merely technological advance. Progress, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is “development towards a better, more complete, or more modern condition.” I suppose one could argue that erecting skyscrapers on the displaced farmers’ land is a “more modern condition,” but it is not a better one--not for the farmers anyway.
I believe true progress eludes us. True progress involves equity and fairness--even kindness. True progress is the achievement of Peace on Earth.
Many of the stories in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales deal with power abuse--by the government, by church officials, by ordinary individuals--the stronger picking on the weaker, taking advantage for their own personal gain or pleasure. We are still wrestling with these same issues. In the roughly 600 years since Chaucer penned his stories, humanity has made little progress in creating a “kinder, gentler” society.
Collectively, we’ve tried to bring about a more level playing field. We threw out the monarchy, a locked-in dictatorial system of government, in favor of parliamentarian rule--law and committee. We broke the monopoly of the Catholic church, creating many different denominations. Finally, the founders of the United States of America created what they called a democratic system based on liberty and equality.
Unfortunately, fairness always gets in the way of our having what we want, and so we look for “loopholes” that let us rationalize our bad behavior.
The Ten Commandments, the first Law of the Judaic peoples, a foundation of Christianity, and of all western thinking, clearly instruct people to treat each other with respect--to the point where they are not to even covet what the other has (like a poor farmer’s plot of land). It is up to each of us as individuals to embrace the objectives of these tenets, and supposedly of all systems of law, and do them.
If I had one wish for the season, it would be that we would put our credit cards aside and embrace the true meaning of good will, that we would not covet the bauble in the next person’s stocking, that we would be happy they have received such a fine gift--and that we would carry the sentiment forward into the New Year, leaving the farmers to cultivate their land, and letting the developers build their skyscrapers in places they acquire fairly and squarely.
You may say I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will be as one. Imagine . . . .
Many of these people literally live off the land. They grow their food, hauling water from the river, raise what animals they might use--for food, for labor, for clothing--and live, simply, but fully. They make very little in the way of money, but they don’t need much--they sustain their own needs.
But the skyscrapers in the background are creeping closer.
I would like to think that the developers, when they want the farmers’ land, will buy it from them for a fair price, a price that makes it worth their moving, that let’s them, essentially retire.
Unfortunately, I know better. I’ve witnessed similar scenarios in my own country, and I’ve learned that the languages of commerce and profiteering are universal. The developers will bide their time, build around the farms, isolating them, violating their borders, maybe blocking access to the water the farmers so desperately need. The government may even step in,condemning the farms as "blight." The farmers. with no financial wealth, will have no power to fight and will be forced out. Some folks call this “good business.” I call it rape and pillage. It has been going on since the beginning of time--but that doesn’t make it right.
As humankind of the 21st Century, we consider ourselves at the height of civilization. We boast of the progress we’ve made. Indeed, many will respond to the plight of the Chinese farmers by shrugging and saying, “You can’t stand in the way of progress.” But having the bigger bulldozer does not equal progress--it is merely technological advance. Progress, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is “development towards a better, more complete, or more modern condition.” I suppose one could argue that erecting skyscrapers on the displaced farmers’ land is a “more modern condition,” but it is not a better one--not for the farmers anyway.
I believe true progress eludes us. True progress involves equity and fairness--even kindness. True progress is the achievement of Peace on Earth.
Many of the stories in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales deal with power abuse--by the government, by church officials, by ordinary individuals--the stronger picking on the weaker, taking advantage for their own personal gain or pleasure. We are still wrestling with these same issues. In the roughly 600 years since Chaucer penned his stories, humanity has made little progress in creating a “kinder, gentler” society.
Collectively, we’ve tried to bring about a more level playing field. We threw out the monarchy, a locked-in dictatorial system of government, in favor of parliamentarian rule--law and committee. We broke the monopoly of the Catholic church, creating many different denominations. Finally, the founders of the United States of America created what they called a democratic system based on liberty and equality.
Unfortunately, fairness always gets in the way of our having what we want, and so we look for “loopholes” that let us rationalize our bad behavior.
The Ten Commandments, the first Law of the Judaic peoples, a foundation of Christianity, and of all western thinking, clearly instruct people to treat each other with respect--to the point where they are not to even covet what the other has (like a poor farmer’s plot of land). It is up to each of us as individuals to embrace the objectives of these tenets, and supposedly of all systems of law, and do them.
If I had one wish for the season, it would be that we would put our credit cards aside and embrace the true meaning of good will, that we would not covet the bauble in the next person’s stocking, that we would be happy they have received such a fine gift--and that we would carry the sentiment forward into the New Year, leaving the farmers to cultivate their land, and letting the developers build their skyscrapers in places they acquire fairly and squarely.
You may say I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will be as one. Imagine . . . .
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