My response to all of this...
(I had intended to put together a much expanded version of this, with a more impersonal view, and to send it in as a paper for TAM IV. However, since I can't afford to go, as I've neither the money for admission to the event, nor the money for a hotel, and there's no way in Hell, I'm ever going to be as good as Phil Plait, I've decided to put it here.)
(Don't know if I'll include any of this in the book. We'll see. In the meantime, I've spent the better part of three weeks working on this version. Perhaps for nothing, but damned if I can sit by quietly anymore.)
(The OP may wind up being longer than the whole frigging thread, but what the hell?)
I could wish that it would go without saying that I've become a skeptic. It's not entirely true, but I'd like to think that I'm closer than I was a few years, and certainly a few months, ago. I've found that I'm questioning things that earlier in my life, I would not have, if for no other reason than I'm compelled to by what I've learned, through hard and sometimes painful experience, happens to those who do not question. It's an uncomfortable place, to be quite honest, but when it's all said and done, it's a necessary one.
And to put it another way, it's what makes the difference between a civilized society, one which perpetuates itself, and one which is ultimately doomed to self-immolate. The multiculturalism is wrong when stating that all societies are equal. They are not. Those which survive have mastered some basic skills and developed baseline ethics which allow them to survive. We have seen this over time, and even if you have no sense of history, you at least have some idea as to what those basics are.
The basics are simple enough: We protect the innocent, the aged, and the weak, we engage in open discourse and research, and accomplish this through self-discipline.
We protect the innocent by the rule of law. We have laws on the books to prevent elder and child abuse, and mandating the minimal standards for their care, as we do for the mentally and physically disabled. These standards don't always work, and sometimes, the courts become too literal in their interpretation of these standards, sometimes either too harshly, taking innocent family members from those who love them, or far worse, far too lax, allowing abuse to continue. But, the fact remains that they're on the books, and the central intent is established.
We don't allow the strong to do harm to those who are weaker. As one example, we have anti-trust laws in the United States, brought about because we sought to break the monopoly held by John D. Rockefeller and his Standard Oil Company. Rockefeller crushed any and all competition by any and all means, some of which bordered on the criminal even in the society of his day, and was only stopped because the Congress in session itself had enough of John D.'s economic abuse.
A just society does what it can to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
Part and parcel with this is open discussion and experimentation. Consider that in Medieval Europe, if you were a doctor, (and this is to separate from surgeons, who at the time were considered to engage in an entirely separate discipline), you could only perform autopsies under the watchful aegis of the Catholic Church, a priest was to be present at all times, and you could only perform an autopsy on the body of a criminal or other "lesser" individual. Further, you did this procedure following only the writings of the Greek physician, Galen, whom, as we learned through time and experimentation, was wrong about a great deal in what he wrote. In fact, if in those days, you found something that disagreed with Galen's writings, clearly either you were wrong as a physician, or there was something wrong with the body of the decedent. (Then again, in the Church's view, that might explain why they were a criminal.)
In fact, it wasn't until we stopped mandating this practice that we began to understand the human body, and began to make some serious advances in medicine. Because of this, we began civic efforts to clean the waste from our streets, and in doing so, minimized the spread of infectious disease, Edward Jenner was able to begin to stop the spread of smallpox by using cowpox fluids, Dr. Charles Drew separated blood plasma and platelets, and saved even more lives, and Dr. Christiaan Barnard was ultimately able to perform the first successful heart transplant in 1968.
It's because we're able argue, to debate, that people are able to advance. This is not just a civil liberty, it's our lives. Our Founding Fathers understood this, and while we can complain, (and many do), about the abuses of our First Amendment -- yes, Virginia, Howard Stern does know every possible way to drop the F-bomb -- it's a very small price to pay for the linchpin for a civilized society, even if it means you wind up hearing and seeing stuff that might offend you. This is why America and much of the Western World has wound up leading in advances in science, technology, medicine, and the like. It doesn't necessarily make us good people, but it has the opportunity to do so, since we have the opportunity to ask what makes people good, and we have the chance to put our theories to the test.
But this all hangs on the necessity of self discipline. And this is where we're lacking.
In fact, if we change the terminology from "self-discipline" to "civility," which would be one of the key goals of self-discipline, you begin to get a sense of what's missing, and why we're beginning to stagnate. We're not advancing as we should, and this is central as to why.
Civility is little more than good manners, respect for others. Miss Manners columnist Judith Martin has called it the lubricant for any civilized society, and time has borne this out. By treating others with respect, we gain the respect we ourselves seek.
As such, if we are engaged in a debate with others, it actually helps us to treat our opponent, regardless of their views, with respect, even when they make it difficult by being deliberately obstinate or obtuse. It's not only to our benefit when we deal with that one individual, but also for others who participate in that particular debate, and those which might follow. We are demonstrating that we will treat others with the same level of respect. It is this sort of thing which opens doors and encourages debate between individuals and spreads knowledge, rather than constraining it.
My experience has been that we encounter more often than not a high degree of smugness, whether it be moral, intellectual, social, or political. We get the moral smugness from the likes of televangelists, and their use of the Bible more as an old fashioned mace, rather than a book to be studied. Rather than merely state their beliefs and answer questions about why they believe what they do, they slap their opponents with scripture, belittling their intent and motive. Clearly, if you dare to question this man's devotion, his spiritual knowledge, (after all, he talks to God on a daily basis), their intimacy with the Holy, it's because you are either a secularist, or your motive is evil, or you're a libertine… It doesn't matter. You are, by their definition, somehow deficient, and you are to be dismissed.
Intellectual smugness comes from the teacher or professional who cannot be bothered to answer reasoned questions from anyone lacking the same level of training. It's the doctor who merely tells you that a procedure is needed, but not why you need it, what it does, how it benefits you, or the risks involved. It might be your body, but you, a mere patient, are too stupid to understand anything more complex than filling out the forms, and paying your insurance premium and the check for the co-pay. At the same time, it's the pilot who smirks are questions from someone with a mere interest in aviation, it's the architect who ignores the client's desires and their budget, it's the teacher who won't explain an assignment because it's not their responsibility.
Social smugness is little more than bigotry. It's the staring down your nose because someone makes less money, their skin is the wrong color, they don't speak your language as well, or they're not at the same social plateau as you are. It rarely requires a greater definition, simply because we've all experienced it.
Political smugness, on the other hand, is tougher, simply because we're very quick to deny we're doing it. We have all experienced wrongs in our lives, or we see needs in our midst, and we want to make things right. But when we experience opposition, we're quick to assume it's out of evil intent, or it's a lack of compassion on the part of others. We who are closer to the facts, at least as we assume ourselves to be, have the true insight into the problem. And so, we assume a position of superiority, one which we may or may not have earned, but which we assume stifles debate.
And this is whether we're the indigenous American declaring our right to build a casino, the damage to the local community where we choose to build be damned; or we're the victim of abuse seeking absolution for our negative behavior in our community; the chemically dependant person seeking compensation for the damage we've done to our own bodies, yet refusing to alter our behavior. Only a fool denies that there have been abuses, but it's even more foolish to permit abuse in the name of "equity" or "justice." Neither is achieved by reversing the abuse. Because, ultimately, things change. They always do.
Civility, ideally, is something we bring to the table having learned it from our families. It is at home that we're to learn to put the needs of others first. It's there that we learn we're to set aside our desires for doing what is right. This is what is (or was) respected in this society in days past. It helped to further discourse, and encouraged debate. It made it possible for people to go from a society led by divine right kings, to one where the government ruled by the will and consent of the people. Failing to teach our kids this has consequences, and they can be dire, not only in our own homes, but in society in general as well.
Permit me a moment to point out my own shortcomings.
Understand that you do not know me. You have read what I have written, and you have an idea who I am, but the reality is that except for three individuals, you have not met me, and know little about what I'm about. Perhaps this is for the better. You didn't know the man who ruined his first marriage, who got himself thrown out of the Army, (General Discharge, and I was lucky to get it), the man who failed, repeatedly. There were reasons for those failures, but the fault remains my own.
These were the lessons I was taught as a child. Bear in mind that they had very serious negative consequences for me as an adult, and while I've cleaned up my act quite seriously, the damage has been done. I alone am responsible for the mistakes I made, because I had better examples around me. But also understand that in my family, we put the "fun" in "dysfunctional." I've been told I know nothing of abuse, and perhaps that's so. But I do know dysfunctional.
For example:
* From my biological father, I learned that if you love someone, you hold them to the floor and beat them senseless. If you're really in love, do things like put your cigarette out in their breast.
* I learned from my grandparents that loving someone means being drunk around them.
* My mother divorced my biological father, as you might expect. It's kind to tell your kids all the nasty things you can about your former spouse.
My mother married my step dad when I was five. Unlike a lot of people in his situation, he took on the difficult task of raising another man's kids. In reality, he became my Dad. This was the early sixties, when divorce was considered anathema in the first place. And so, of course, he was well rewarded for his efforts, right?
* If your spouse is serving his nation at war, you shouldn't worry about being alone. If asked, it's okay to sleep with someone else. Remember, it's only sex.
* If your kids do things that are inconvenient, such as misbehave, make sure to shake them good and hard so that whatever's scrambling their brains gets good and loose. If you really love them, make sure you can get their heads to whipsaw back and forth on their necks.
* Remind them how important your job is. Make certain they understand that they come after your career.
* If your child is ever molested, make certain you keep them quiet, particularly if the abuser is someone who can either advance or harm yours or your spouse's career. God knows, it's tough enough getting ahead without something like that dragging you down.
* When they act our because of abuse, send them to shrinks, but make sure they know they're to keep quiet. You can't have them blabbing on about what you do or don't do at home.
* If the shrinks don't work, make sure you grind it into their heads that there are places for crazy people like them. Make sure your kids know that "they" want to lock them up. Forever.
I think I've made my point here. Understand, though, that I had better examples of how to act from people outside my family. I had a chance, unlike some, to learn that there was a better way, that civility had certain rewards.
Perhaps my family did me a great service, in spite of, or because of this. Before I even went to preschool, I remember having told a lie. I don't remember what the lie was, but I remember being beaten into insensibility. I can remember waking up in the middle of the night, hungry, hurting, and knowing that I didn't want to lie to anyone, ever again. Ultimately, that came to include lying to myself.
I may never be a good man. At least I can be an honest one.
I've learned. I found a great deal which helped me from three books:
From the Bible, which I refused to read the way the church wanted me to read it, I got some basics, that salvation was possible. Forgiveness was a possibility, though not definite. If the Church was the Body of Christ, then I could easily see that it would be a capricious God who might forgive me of my sins, or who might not. I suppose as long as I played the right games, I could be one of the Chosen. The book itself said otherwise, though: Ask, and it is so. You might not escape the consequences of your actions, but you could proceed with a clear conscience.
I confessed what I had done to others, to them, while I am not forgiven by them, I'm not ashamed to have made the effort. I had a responsibility to do this, ultimately whether God existed or not. You might not find the Bible to be divine, but it was written by people who had a better handle on what people were like than you might find today.
From Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, I learned that there were benefits to reason, to taking on the hard questions. When Robert Pirsig struggles to get his mind around the concept of "Quality," you're a witness to something greater than a mere word game. When he tries to deal with the mental illness of his son, Chris, this is a struggle not just for the child's mind, but his soul. (And in later editions, you learn that Chris died in 1980, IIRC. Having followed the story that far, how can you not hurt?)
It was his relationships that ultimately carried him through. With Bob and Sylvia. With DeWeese. With Chris. It helped to read that. (It still hasn't been much help with motorcycles.)
Ultimately, it came down to the California DMV Commercial Driver's Handbook.
It's probably the driest reading you'll ever find. I dare you to read it and not fall asleep. But once you get past the descriptions of S-cams, slack adjusters, air lines, how to hook up to a trailer, (assuming it's not equipped with maxis), and the proper way to make a right turn with a trailer, you begin to get a sense that this is probably the best description of real life you're ever going to find. The truck, a created thing, has no concept of God. It has no soul, it is a mechanism. If you turn the wheel to the right, it will go right, and if that puts you off a cliff, no one has the power or authority to put a hand out and keep 80,000 pounds of truck and freight from heading straight down.
I had a greater responsibility not only to myself, but to others around me. I have a higher center of gravity, more weight to deal with, a longer stopping distance, things that the laws of physics -- which do not change just because I play nicey-nice with God -- tell me I need to keep my mind on others first. It's why I carry a toolbox, it's why I do pre-trips, it's why I keep my speed down.
Maybe you see a truck. I see a classroom. It's a place where I learn. If I am uncivil, people could die. It has a price. A high one.
I suppose in some regards, some will feel sorry for me. F*** you. I don't need pity. I need a chance. I need opportunities to change.
I learned from others. I learned from a guy named Bill Kenny, who was with the American Forces Network in the early 80's. (If you were there, maybe you heard him on the "Nightside" program.) Bill was always focused on the people who listened to him, the kids who were far from home, lonely, and missing America. He tried to make it interesting, he tried to make it fun for them.
There's guys like Gerry Townsend and Mike Beigh, both truckers, both ex-Marines. (Want to meet a great person? Find a guy with a CDL who's also an ex-Marine. Every ex-Marine I've met who's a trucker has turned out to be worth knowing.)
There's the last therapist I spent time with, Dave Pearson, who didn't accept excuses, didn't put up with whining, and basically could tell it to you straight. He's also a former Fire Captain. Nobody's perfect.
There's people I know from Frankfurt, Germany, like Rikzilla and Markus Riley. Good men, with huge hearts. I'm honored by their friendship. Likewise a local businessman and his wife, Bob and Judy Young, who have never had anything but encouragement for me.
And, I learned from you.
Maybe this makes sense, maybe it doesn't, but damn it, I am not here to try and remain who I was. I am trying like hell to make serious changes in my life. I am tired of being what I am, of being what I was. I am sick of being worthless. And I'm sorry, but people who choose to wallow in the filth of superstition, of cowardice, whether it's in the name of God or based on tradition, whatever it is, are choosing to be worthless.
I do not want that.
Central to trying to change, I need to be civil towards others, I need others to be civil towards me, and a damned well need to see it between others.
Contrary to what some might think, I don't enjoy watching people I respect ripping into one another. This latest degradation, with Cleo and JJ, (I'm sorry, but that "pity-f***" bit was over the top), has got to be one of the most insulting things I've read in a while. I didn't need to read this, especially after actually meeting JJ at the end of July, and his wonderful wife and girls. These are incredibly kind and generous people, and as much as I wanted to discuss some serious politics with JJ, my wife, Peggy, had asked that we not. (It was, after all, our first face to face meeting.) Out of respect for my wife's wishes, JJ did not. He treated my wife like the lady she is, and I could tell he had experience with this, as his wife was also one very classy chassis.
I'm sorry, but I've met the man, I've had a chance to learn what he's accomplished in life, (which is a hell of a lot), and I've had a chance to learn what he's about. I could wish I could become half as decent a human being as he has been to me.
And, I'm tired of people calling one another "Nazis," or "Fascists," when it's clear they have no understanding of what the terms mean. I'm tired of verbal assaults on people who disagree, mainly because I didn't come here to listen to people who agreed with me. (I do a lot of lurking. Too much, I guess.) I'm sick of the personal destruction, and yes, this gets back to the misery that was heaped on Hal Bidlack, who didn't deserve any of what he received. I regret the incivility of others, but I can't do a damned thing about that. I can only do what I can about my own.
I'm sorry if I've driven off others. This would particularly apply towards Interesting Ian, whom I regret not seeing much of lately. I didn't agree with him, but he was, in the end, Interesting. There are so many I respect, though I disagree with them. Maybe there are ways to bring about some changes, but I'm at a loss as to how.
And I'm writing this after receiving a series of e-mails from a family member, missives which ground into my emotions like broken glass and salt. I was reminded in those e-mails what a failure and degradation I am to my family, (after all, I'm a truck driver!), particularly with a General Discharge from the Army. (My father was a retired Master Sergeant, and a former Sergeant Major for AFN.) And no matter what I said in reply, I was either lying, or my memories had become "convenient." And the replies to me were so vicious, I was literally on my bed, curled up in a fetal position, my wife holding me, trying to tell me that things would be all right, reminding me that we would get through. (As is usually the case, she was right. And we will, I think.)
As a kid, I tried several times to kill myself. I never could pull it off. I don't know if that makes me a God damned coward, (interpret literally), or just a failure of another sort. But, I'm here. It makes more sense to make the most of that. I've had to remind myself that my destruction is what my family would groove on. (Another lie: If you love your family, you'll either destroy yourself, or allow them to destroy you.)
I hate this. I want the destruction to end. I've had enough of it.
Disagree with me. Please. But quit with the destruction.
Having now violated the rules regarding civility myself, I'm going to be gone for a week. I believe that's the term for a suspension. I doubt you'll need to, but you can e-mail me if you just have to say something.
No, Darat. Don't get up. I can find my way to the door.
