The Stoic Traveler

Santificentur Res Nostros I

2008-05-22T08:27:00.000-07:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

This piece of mild blasphemy was passed on to me by a friend in holy orders, so it must be alright.

CUV

Seneca

History Lesson I

2008-05-06T14:01:00.000-07:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

I received word earlier today that DNC Chairman Howard Dean has claimed Sen. John McCain is stuck in the 1940s.

It seems that those who do not know their history are condemned to have George Santayana quoted at them forever. Gov. Dean seems to have forgotten that the father of the modern Democratic coalition, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and his successor, Harry Truman, were both presidents in the 1940s.

Further, as the spokesman said:

"Governor Dean was saying that while our candidates are talking about America's future, John McCain is talking about continuing the failed policies of the past."

"Failed policies of the past" describing a remark about the 1940s. Do we at last have an admission of Progressivism's failure?

CUV, amice.
Seneca

On Disappointment

2008-01-08T15:49:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

The last few hours of the antipenulitmate day, found an article furiously making rounds in the circle of people I inhabit. The libertarian commentariat went wild with its indictments, defenses, and tearful apologias for Dr. Ron Paul.
I had thought to add my voice to the many crying in the wilderness, then realized that whatever I would say would be said better by others.
I would like to point out, however, that the New Republic article has had almost no pick up. According to savvier people than I, this thing has gone nowhere. It was not mentioned in the most recent GOP debate, it has not made it into on-air coverage for the major networks.
Of course, another friend of mine went to the trouble of demonstrating the likelihood that Dr. Paul did not write the newsletters in question. Lew Rockwell has long been known as a Secessionist nut; his passing will not be mourned.
But instead of going on at length in a dry, dirge-like fashion about the Stoic implications and view of "calamities," I give you dogs wearing hats.

CUV, Amice
Seneca

Variations I

2007-11-30T07:05:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

There is a new push, according to the New York Times today, to repeal the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"(DADT/10 U.S.C. ss 654) policy crafted by Gen. Colin Powell under President Clinton.

Good, great, grand: I'm all ready to apply to OCS when they do.

There's just one problem: the repeal would be empty.

Even if section 654 were altered, there would still be the problem of the UCMJ, Uniform Code of Military Justice, which makes sodomy a crime. Unless this provision is removed or in some way abrogated, which can only be done formally by act of Congress, a gay serviceman is still subject to criminal penalties. Of course, it would no longer be for being gay, just acting gay.

Sail the middle course, I suppose.

CUV

Seneca

Confession

2007-11-28T20:42:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

There are times in life when we must come clean. None of us is without fault. I am inclined to think life would be rather dull if we were perfect.
I hereby confess: I am a political snob. I long for a real debate in politics, for politicians that can really speak the speech as 'twas pronounced, and for something more satisfying than the soundbite.
Fortunately, a friend passed along this bit of absolution: In Defense of Uppitiness.
Mr. Greenberg is quite right about "conservatism-as-attitude": it is a belief that there are things in the past worth bringing into the present, and that action should be taken with reference to first principles. He forgets, unfortunately, that it is not merely for our own health that we bring them. The good in our past is also a legacy for our children and to future generations.
Those of us in the present are bound by salutary chains to the generations before and after. Whether we will or no, the institutions and actions of distant ancestors shape our immediate present. Our actions, in turn, will shape the future in the form of our last testaments.
I do not believe that an unchanging, Roman veneration of the mos maiorum, customs of the ancestors, is the correct way to pass along our estate. We ought to improve upon what was given to us, but ought not to change for the sake of change. A good change is considered, small, and careful.

As the Athenians Do

2007-11-22T12:23:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

Today, my friend, is, in the United States, a national day of Thanksgiving. It is a day we are to set aside from our usual workaday to show gratitude for the good things bestowed upon us by the Almighty, and to eat vast quantities of Turkey.
One of the enduring traditions or, some might say, parodies of this pious day is the long-winded grace. Such a prayer goes on for ever, as turkey turns cold and dry, potatoes lump, and gravy congeals. The Stoic sages even turned their attention to such things, although without thoughts of ruined meals (for, after all, "ruin" is but a perception):

"A prayer of the Athenians: Rain, rain, O dear Zeus, down on the ploughed fields of the Athenians and on the plains.- In truth we ought not to pray at all, or we ought to pray in this simple and noble fashion." - Meditations, 5.7

The Emperor has a twofold point. For the Stoic Sage (the hypothetical culmination of Stoic thought), all things are as they ought to be and must be endured. Prayer, therefore, is not only pointless, it is damaging to practice. For the rest of us, perhaps we should keep our entreaties to the Almighty short, clear, and to the point.
I wish you, my dear friends, a happy Thanksgiving, and offer hopes that your harvest was bountiful, and that your winter be not too arduous.

CUV,

Seneca

Kinderpolitik

2007-11-15T10:37:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

We all have our guilty little pleasures, amice. They are the (usually) harmless activities that we hesitate to mention in polite company. The internet, however, is not polite company; judging by some forums I have read, it barely qualifies as "company," and is certainly not polite. One of my guilty pleasures is the television show Kid Nation on CBS.
The premise is simple: forty kids, ages 8 to 15, move to an old Western movie set in New Mexico. There, they try to build a society by consulting an "old" journal "from the late 1800s," and acting on its "suggestions." Each week there is a new "suggestion," each one invariably divisive and destructive of unity and a well-functioning body politic. Suggestions have included literally dividing the town in to districts (Red, Blue, Green, Yellow) for purposes of the weekly Showdown, introducing religious services (led, of course, by the kids), and, most recently, attempting to "equalize" the districts, so that every district is on an equal competitive footing.
In what might be the most egregious display of the show's Marxist bias, there is a scene in this week's episode in which the Town Council members (the four-kid "ruling" body) try to divvy up the strong kids, the hard workers, and the well-spirited through negotiations among themselves. They give no consideration to the feelings of the transplanted kids, no thought to what might be considered the semi-spontaneous ordering of their proto-society. Their thought is for "the greater good" and "making Showdowns fair" for everyone.
The result of their "fairness" is a complete wash in the showdown, angered and unhappy citizens, and, most likely, a complete reshuffling of the Council next week. The object lesson is clear: central planning fails.

In Flanders Field

2007-11-12T07:53:00.000-08:00

In Flanders Fields
Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD
Canadian Army

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Beneath the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Jawohl Mein Fu--Mr. President!

2007-11-08T20:58:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

My most favoritest person in the world, Dr. James Dobson, seems to want to cause trouble again:

"He is the leader of the evangelical and social conservative movement in America, and he's going to reassert that position and leave no doubt that he's in charge," says the adviser based in Colorado.

The Leader is going to reassert his position, and leave no doubt as to his authority by endorsing Mike Huckabee for President.
It is entirely possible that Gov. Huckabee of Arkansas is a fine man, an upstanding Christian, even a good governor. I have nothing against Mike Huckabee. I would warn him against seeking endorsements from avowed theocratic authoritarians.
Before I go further, I should point out, in the interest of fairness, that Dr. Dobson has done quite a lot of good in his life. His work with families is really great, his ministry is excellent. When he gets political, he frightens me. Terrifies me, in fact.
Dr. Dobson wants power and does not seem to care how he uses it. He has a sanctified mindset that equates all victories with the benevolence of God, and all defeats as the result of God’s wrath. Every institution of man has been ordained by God for man’s benefit. The insistent language of his advisor (e.g., “the leader,” “reassert,” and “in charge”) indicates that Dobson believes he has been wronged, and that he will reclaim what is rightfully his here on earth in the 2008 Presidential election. Engaging in a bit of remote psychoanalysis, the 21^st century’s favorite parlor game, I might even suggest that Dobson sees his irrelevance to the ’08 campaign thus far as indicative of God’s displeasure.
Of further concern is the idea of Dobson being “the” evangelical leader. It is, of course, utterly impossible that there be multiple leaders of the evangelical movement. Pat Robertson, the late Jerry Falwell don’t enter into it. There can be only One. It does sound vaguely familiar.
Leaving aside the faint sound of leather riding boots and clipped German echoing from Colorado Springs, I could have sworn evangelical Christians in the United States, or anywhere for that matter, already had a leader. Granted, He’s not really disposed right now to endorse political candidates in person, probably a bit busy redeeming mankind and explicitly avoiding political disputes.

Merges Rex

2007-11-07T13:19:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

Wandering the internet today, I found this mildly interesting story about corn. One line stood out in particular:

The filmmakers are "talking about overproduction, and that's one thing that we see that's different from two years ago," Williamson said. "We're not seeing overproduction. The market is able to sustain it," thanks in large part to an ethanol boom.

Utter codswallop.

Market be damned, the ethanol "boom" has nothing to do with markets. It has everything to do with subsidies and the nigh-unlimited, unwarranted power of the corn lobby. Dr. Scammington can explain the problems with the ethanol nonsense better than I.

Taking a moment to think, it would seem that the corn lobby is, in fact, the most powerful lobby in the United States today. It has singlehandedly driven the U.S. Federal Government into supporting an unreasonable fuel, locks out sugar imports (and helps keep America fat), and wins billions a year in subsidies for poor family farmers like Archer-Daniels-Midland. Furthermore, its actions, as Dr. Scammington says, have caused a general increase in the price of food around the world.

I think I need to become a lobbyist.

CUV

Seneca

Epistolas Incipio De Novo

2007-11-06T15:47:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.

I have been too lax in writing to you, amice, too caught up in worldly affairs and the worries of the day, to take time to set my thoughts to paper. The third time, they say, is the charm and I will take advantage of that maxim to re-build and expand the edifice I began thirteen months ago.

You know, I presume, that I have taken a pseudonym in these epistles. I do not pretend that this pseudonym actually shields my identity. Indeed, I often presume that you, dear reader, are at least vaguely aware of my foibles, views, and general opinions. So if the pseudonym is not really a protection, why use it? Why not use my real name?

I use the pseudonym for two main reasons. First, because it provides me a kind of cover, an excuse to use the grandiloquent style I have admired since I was a kid. And second, because I believe it connects me more immediately to my ideas.

You have probably noticed that my writing is not typical of a 21st century American. I write in an archaic style: "misplacing" relative clauses, using Latin expressions, expanding infinitives and purpose clauses, and using affectations such as "dear reader," among other tropes. In most cases, I use far too many words; enough to make at least two teachers of mine scream.

In normal writing, when writing as part of an assignment or specific task, my prose is clear and concise. I excise my hard-won, celestial Latin in favor of earthly German. While I relish the challenge of translating complicated ideas into clear thought, I daily wish I could use the high eloquence of Cicero, or Hamilton, or Burke.

My second reason stems from my first exposure to serious political and philosophical writing: the Federalist Papers. Written by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay under the pseudonym Publius, the Federalist set out the case for the American federal constitution. Using "Publius," after the Republican Founder Publius Valerius Publicola, stronger in Roman Republican history than Brutus, Caesar, or even Cato, connected the Federalists with a deep Republican tradition and emphasized the vetus in the novus ordo seclorum that the American Experiment represents.

Using a Classical pseudonym, I believe, helps connect me to the things that I admire, to the American Founders, to the Romans, and to the intellectual world I hope to engage.

De Ira, or, Seneca Shows Off

2007-08-28T09:36:00.001-07:00

Lucius Annaeus Seneca salutem dat Caro Lectori:

Anger, amice, is a curious emotion. That might be redundant: all emotions are curious, stemming as the basic ones do from evolutionary history; fight or flight &c. At the same time, the emotions also seem to have a rational component. Happiness or joy, sadness, fear, &c. seem take their source from our perceptions of reality. What we feel is then a response to that perception. These responses can be powerful; overpowering in fact the strongest reserve.
We moderns, like our ancient forebears, have many words for anger: rage, wrath, fury, ire. The ancients had one I especially like: menis. It means "wrath" or "anger" and a declined form begins Book I, line 1 of Homer's Iliad. It is a particular kind of wrath, beyond the ken of mortals; it signifies divine wrath, the kind of anger that can only be felt by such a super-being as a god. This is the wrath, sung by the muses, of Achilles Peliades.
Achilles was wrathful (some would say justly) because King Agamemnon had taken Briseis, a Trojan woman and Achilles' rightful prize, to replace Chryseis, the ransomed daughter of a priest of Apollo. In his wrath, Achilles withdrew from the Trojan War, enabling the Trojans repeatedly defeat the Greek forces on the Plains of Ilium. It was wrath, or perhaps grief, that drove him again from his tent to the battlefield. This time, Achilles was undone by the death of his friend Patroclus. (The nature of that friendship is a matter of discussion). At any rate, Achilles returned to the fight and the rest, as they say, is mythology.
The point is, amice, that anger can be just, it can be righteous. But that is utterly irrelevant. It is highly destructive, regardless of its source. It is also a thing of majesty when done right. For the rest of us, though, we must be content with the puny pleasures that come from impotent displays of rage. And then accept that the universe could not care less, and that the world looks down on such emotiveness.
What is ever our object? Is it the self-restraint that Stoics are justly famous for? Of course not; that is a happy result of our labors, but is not our purpose. Our purpose, our object, our impossible dream is to be able to be as a tree in the wind: remaining rooted in our principles, tho' tossed and buffeted by the world.

Where have you gone Andrew Carnegie?

2007-06-28T18:16:00.000-07:00

L.A.S s.d. C.L.:

I read the news for the same reason I go to the gym: to get my heart pumping in the morning.

I practice philosophy to keep the news from killing me.

I sit here now watching one of the interminable Democratic debates, and I am moved to this question: what happened to Carnegie and Morgan? to Fiske and Gould? What happened to people that took pride in their accomplishments? That enjoy the fruits of their labor and inspire others to similar achievements?

The Democratic candidates keep referring to Warren Buffett as a great, patriotic American. Why? Because he wants to pay more taxes. He made $49 million last year. And paid only about 17% of that in taxes. He wants to pay more.

Why doesn't he? I would seriously like to know why he does not write another check to the government, nobody's stopping him and I'm sure there's a program for retired testing monkeys somewhere that could use the funds.

How queer is it when the richest men in the world seem ashamed, embarrassed by their money?

Begin the Morning by Saying...

2007-05-17T13:38:00.000-07:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

Salve, Amice. Si vales, valeo et bene est.

I realize that my missives have not been so fast or furious these last few weeks. I have been neglecting philosophy, too wrapped up in the workaday world. I shall return, and soon, to continue with my regular correspondence.
Until that happy day arrives, however, I would like to deliver a quote from Marcus Aurelius' Meditations and then provide you with an elegant essay (not my own) that struck a chord along the same style.

Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busy-body, the ungrateful, arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these things happen to them by reason of their ignorance of what is good and evil.

The path of the righteous is beset on all sides by wickedness. What then should we do when some form of wickedness passes from the earth, either into dust or into the divine order? Well, if it passes into dust then there is nothing done. If it passes into the Divine Order, then it has played some part unknown to me and played it well. I can strive only to do the same. So without further ado, I give you A Rosary for Jerry Falwell.

Cura ut valeas, amice.

Bah! Humbug!

2007-04-27T07:57:00.000-07:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

My apologies for the delay in updating, amice, I have been working on an argument that keeps falling apart when I try to bring it together. In the meantime, I have a pair of articles you might find of interest. They are on the same subject, though they come at it from different perspectives and for different purposes.
For the Stoic, as my previous missives might indicate, there is virtue in minding one's own business. These two articles (one on philosophy, the other on the Middle East) convey some of the practical benefit of leaving others alone.

CUV
Seneca

Groan with Friends

2007-04-17T17:50:00.000-07:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

It seems that events always cast into confusion our best laid plans. Events, though, can be made to serve a purpose.
I do not by any stretch intend to say that the Divine Order caused the recent horror in Virginia simply to provide me with teaching material. That would be foolish on more levels than I can count. Instead, I am going to attempt to tackle one of the harder elements of Stoic ethics: grief and loss.
Dealing with loss is at once the hardest and most rewarding aspect of Stoic practice; it is also the point that probably generates the most antipathy towards Stoicism in the modern world, which is so obsessed with maudlin display.
Recall an assertion made earlier in these public epistles: of the things that are, some are in my power, some are not. The things not in my power include reputation, honors, property. In a word, anything that is not my own action. Things in my power include conceptions, conceits, aversions. In short, my own actions are in my power. (Epictetus, Encheiridion, 1.1)
This would seem to suggest that my response to the events in Virginia is also within my power. I choose, therefore, whether to feel grief, whether to share in the mass grief.
Stoic practice has one aim: to train me to keep my will in conformance with nature. That is, I am training myself to accept what happens so that I may say "wherever I go, whatever happens, it will be well with me" and mean it.
This is not to say that I should ignore what I feel. As I have said, Stoic philosophy is about nature and keeping in accordance with nature. Sadness over the loss of a loved one is natural. But to wish that our loved ones live for ever is not in accordance with nature; it is foolish and brings undue pain.
What of the loss of a friend's loved ones? Or the death of another with whom we had no connection?
In that case, I examine that sadness. Did I have closeness with the deceased? If so, then I do feel. If not, then for the sake of my friend I will groan with him, but I will not force myself to groan at my core, to feel what I do not naturally feel. I will not upset my inner equanimity for the sake of a stranger, or even a friend. There is no flaw in going through the motions, but not feeling the pain.
That pain, which stems from others unconnected to me, is not natural to me. It has no place in my being.
This element of seeming inhumanity often gives Stoic practice a bad reputation. We are cold for not displaying emotions not our own, for letting our own emotions pass by without display or histrionics. But we can endure the pain and loss of life, feel them and know they are nothing to us. Wherever I go, whatever happens, it is well with me.

Cura ut valeas.

Students for Ochlocratic Society

2007-04-12T08:11:00.000-07:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.

As I traversed the Internet last night, I received an invitation to join the Wobblies (the Industrial Workers of the World). On the same page, I noticed with some alarm that Students for a Democratic Society has re-emerged from its oubliette to start causing trouble again.
On the organization's Facebook page (here for those of you who have succumbed), these halcyon hearkeners and putative protesters have broken the name into its component parts: Students, Democratic, and Society, and placed them into questions following the function "what" They give "Students" a broad, inclusive definition that excludes almost no one with even a modicum of intellectual curiostiy. Likewise, "Society" is more than "communities, cities, or nations;" it is the fabled brotherhood of man, a cosmopolis if you will. Putting it all together, they claim to be a teaching/activism movement that aspires to put democracy into all aspects of society.
Leaving aside the confused conflation of society and government, SDS's conception of democracy is fundamentally flawed. They say democracy is self-rule; that it is a continued evaluation of events and policies and engagement in politics.
I'm not sure it's possible to be more wrong.
Democracy, first and foremost, is a system of government; it is not a system of social interaction. What they call a democratic society is anarchy, plain and simple. Second, democracy does not mean self-rule, except on the national level. Here's why: democracy is, literally, rule by the people. That is to say, power for directing affairs rests with the citizens. Historically, this system of government has only functioned in very small communities, with very limited franchises. Moreover, the communities that have adopted this form of government have also adopted very stringent moral codes along with it. Indeed, democracy requires that the citizens have no concerns, or very few concerns, apart from the running of the state. This was true in Athens, was true in Geneva, was true in Rome. It means, essentially, that there must be a productive class, in the ancient world a slave class, that allows the luxury of government to a non-producing class. Essentially, the further one gets from the national level of government, the less self-government actually exists. It becomes not self-rule but rule by others.
All democracies function on a majoritarian principle. Except in the rare cases of unanimity, even the largest majorities entail minorities. These minorities, under a democratic system, really have no means of redress. They have no protections, save the good will of the majority. These democracies can, and frequently do, devolve rapidly into ochlocracies, or rule by the vagaries of the mob.
The great mass of mankind has no interest in politics; they are occupied with their own affairs, trying to make their livings and improve their lots. SDS would force them away from their affairs and into the workings of government. Not only that, but they would sacrifice good order and reasoned policies in favor of a mob rule. What we currently have in the West is not perfect, but it provides the opportunity still for real self-government. Pay attention to your own affairs, mind not the affairs of others.

One to Rule Them All

2007-03-31T16:03:00.000-07:00

Seneca salutem dat Caro Lectori:

Amice, I received your response to my last missive with some delight. Your comment on the role of emotion in decision making is spot on and provides an excellent departure point for tonight's commentary.
You said:

But I must say, when I apply reason, I rationalize an emotional response at least as much as I figure something out from the input.

When I closed my last note, I stated the ultimate conclusion of the discussion: that I am a piece of flesh, some breath, and a Reason to rule all. Now, this statement is alas not my own, but Marcus Aurelius' from his Meditations. When first I read it, I thought that he was referring to a kind of Will to Power, that he meant he had a reason to rule the empire. On closer reading, it became obvious that he was referring to enthroned Reason's government of the body and spirit.
Emotion and passion are things of the body, our animal portions. Our sensation of them originate in the body. Fear, anger, sadness, joy all have some corresponding physical sensation. That is why we speak of them as feelings. It is important that their status as things of the body not diminish their importance. Indeed, as physical beings the things that originate with the body should have a certain pride of place in our makeup.
But should emotion rule?
Perhaps the better question is whether emotion can rule. The idea of rulership, generally understood, requires decision and judgment. Emotions do not decide anything; they inspire and terrify, depress and elate, but they do not decide. Indeed, they often occur at the same time: competing for influence and attention. It falls to a third party to make a choice among the vying forces.
A non-human animal has little need for decision: it has instincts to help keep it safe, senses and habits to govern its behavior with others, and no choice but to listen to its natural impulses.
As a human, I do have choices. Indeed, choice might be the hallmark of my species. I can listen to my emotions only, give in to every passion, every wild desire; and likely I destroy my life in the process. Or, I can listen wholly to my reason: become a machine of logic, weighing pros, cons, and odds in every situation. In that case, too, I destroy my life, though perhaps not as dramatically.
If we sail too close to the shore, we are dashed upon the rocks. If we sail too far out in the fast seas, we are lost to the world. Better, then, to sail a middle course: to use what tools I am given in the best way that I can. Not to rationalize emotions, but understand them and weigh them with the evidence of my senses and come to a decision based on my reasonable understandings of all parties to the conflict.

On Natural Morality

2007-03-27T10:16:00.000-07:00

Lucius Annaeus Seneca s.d. C.L.:

I received a response to my last entry, a link to a fascinating article on the primitive morality, for want of a better word, of primates. I highly recommend that you read it, if only because it fits well with my own prior efforts. At the very least, the biologists acknowledge that there is no parallel to human applications of reason and judgment, which leaves me feeling better about my final assertion.

This discussion shall continue at a later date.

CUV
Seneca

Gnothi Seauton

2007-03-26T19:26:00.000-07:00

Lucius Annaeus Seneca s.d. C.L.

Inscribed over the door of the Delphic shrine to Apollo was the phrase "Gnothi Seauton," know thyself. This little aphorism has inspired countless poetry, drama, and philosophy. It seems an essential idea for anyone seeking to pursue a good life. After all, how can I know what the good life is for me until I know, or at least have some idea of, my own nature?
I raise this point because I believe that I have gotten off to a false start in my discussions on Stoicism. I began from an assumption of nature, rather than establishing it. With that in mind, I begin anew...
When I seek to know anything, I should begin from its beginning with the question "what is it?" So in my own case, I should seek to know what I am. (Note that I say what, not who, for who is simply the form following the function of what) What I am is a man, like any other. What does it mean, then, to be a man or, rather, to be of the species "mankind"?
At the most basic level that I can see or feel, I am flesh and blood, bone and sinew, and breath. Among the three basic kingdoms, this places me among the animals. Very well, I am an animal. But I think I am something above the beasts of the field. This is not ego or vanity, I think, I hope, but rather some observable characteristic. So what, then, makes me different?
I walk upon two legs, but so do apes. I can build structures, altering my environment to suit my needs and desires. So, too, do beavers, badgers, and birds. It is certainly not mortality, for all things die. This is the oldest law. It might be law that distinguishes us: that I can create - or at least conceive of - a thing separate from myself to govern my action. But what is the source of the law, at least of human law? Instinct, which is common to all animals, is response to stimuli; and, although habits can be learned through instinct, it does not seem equal to the task of creating formal rules.
Call this capacity Reason, the ability to govern instinct, to govern the body, and to govern passion.
I, then, am these things: some flesh, some breath, and Reason to rule them all.

In the meantime ...

2007-03-09T06:04:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.

Amice,

I am revising my work on Stoicism and preparing it for release in the near future.

In the meantime, here's an article on one of my favorite subjects: barbarians.

The author's observations are trenchant and not for the faint of heart or "multi-culturalist."

CUV
Seneca

On Peril, Promise, and Pity

2007-03-03T20:34:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.

You have observed, dear friend, that despite my Stoic practice, I tend to rail when talking politics. Often I direct this ranting at conservative Evangelical Christians, whom I have seen as subverting the American political experiment. Indeed, it is one of the sublime ironies of the last few decades that Evangelical Christians, who for a long time stayed out of politics for fear of corruption, were corrupted by it and corrupted it in turn.
I had a conversion experience last night, inspired by two films that I saw recently. The first was Jesuscamp, one of the Best Documentary nominees. The second was Amazing Grace, which opened last weekend. These two films, along with a hymn that's been running through my head, conspired to turn my scorn and hatred into pity.
Jesuscamp is about an Evangelical summer camp for kids and families in one of the Dakotas. Run by preacher Becky Fischer, the camp trains children to "lay down their lives for Jesus;" to be warriors for Christianity, not, it is implied, in the Biblical or historically Christian sense, but in the Islamic jihadi sense. The film shows ten year-olds witnessing with Jack Chick cartoon tracts, talking about how they were saved and born again at six, and an example of "homeschooling." Most of the film, though, is a tent revival for ten year olds. The filmmakers show the replacement of authentic Christianity, of the long scholastic and theological history, and even of the Gospel with shaking, and "speaking in tongues." It flatly denies the intellect, which has long been considered one of the two things essential to Christianity, in favor of strange displays, hot weeping, and unfounded emotional excess.
More interesting, and more to my eventual point, is a sequence towards the end of the film featuring the former head of the National Association of Evangelicals, Ted Haggard. Jesuscamp sees him as very charismatic at first. He jokes with the cameraman and delivers a mediocre sermon to his congregation. After that he sits down with the camera and talks about the Evangelical movement. When he mentions the movement's pure political power ("If the Evangelicals vote, they decide the election."), a smile spreads across his face like an oil slick. He resembles a patent medicine salesman, a crocodile, and the proverbial cat all at the same time.
Amazing Grace's William Wilberforce (played by Ioan Gruffudd) is, by contrast, a clear and committed Christian of the old style. During the early parts of the story, we see him wrestling with a choice between a poltical career and a "life of solitiude" i.e., a monastic or otherwise religious life. His drive to abolish the British slave trade and slavery in the Empire stems from one source: his faith, as emphasized twice by Gruffudd's rendition of the titular hymn. This Christianity inspires in man a sense of justice, of the tremendous wrong in the world, of man's inhumanity to man, and, more importantly, inspires him to correct it. It does not inspire him to become a Holy Warrior, but rather a warrior for the improvement of man's lot; blessed, as it were, to be a blessing. This is a work of substance, compassion, and immanent humanity that seems to be altogether lacking in most modern film.
One day I came back from lunch to find a pamphlet on my desk; a slim booklet on coercion and persuasion. The author concludes a wonderful discussion with a Mormon hymn:

"He'll call, persuade, direct aright
And bless with wisdom, love, and light,
In nameless ways be good and kind,
But never force the human mind."

When I was working in Colorado a few years ago, I visited Focus on the Family's visitors center. Walking around, though, one exhibit in particular struck me as alien to the warm, inviting organization I expected. In the center of the main floor was a statement, described as one of Focus's guiding principles, that the State as an institution is ordained by God and thereby commands the obedience of its citizens.
Command and force seem to be the guiding principles of this generation of political Christian leaders. Unlike Wilberforce, who inspired and persuaded men of the evils of the slave trade, the Haggards, Dobsons, and Fischers of this world seek to force the minds of men to assent. At the very least, they seek to force the bodies of men to obey. This, again, runs counter to the general history of Christianity. Note that I say general; the Inquisition and its related ilk seem to have been exceptions, rather than the rule. Christ Himself, after all, wielded no sword and blessed the Peacemakers. Augustine and Aquinas, in much of their writings, advocated the importance of free conscience and right reason as the way to God and salvation.
I mentioned earlier that scorn and hatred changed to pity. It is, I think, an accurate word. When I compare what was and what has been of the Christian involvement in politics to what is now, I have little choice. Modern Christian "leaders" have traded in a great and shining past for a sordid, and fleetingly powerful, political present. They seem to have exchanged root principles for trite "hot-button" issues. A history of true dedication to human rights, dignity, and equality traded for political prestige and the ability to command men.
CUV, Amice
Seneca

On Chains, Fuzzy or Not

2007-02-27T15:42:00.000-08:00

L.A.S. s.d. C.L.:

Si vales bene est amice. I have reason to deviate from my plan this evening, though my earlier ruminations on Stoicism shall continue, at length, whether you pay attention or not. My reasons, as ever, are my own...
I had reason recently to spend some time in Austria. In between art museums, Roman ruins, and eighteenth century architecture, I sat in the cafes and enjoyed melange and atmosphere. One day I got to thinking about German and Austrian questions of identity. Now, the Germans are obsessed with "War Guilt;" they are only now, it seems, getting over the strongest outward manifestations. The Austrians pitch themselves as victims in the manner of Czechoslovakia or Poland. It is a curious thing when the Austrians claim Beethoven as one of their own, when he was a German, and announce loudly that Hitler, an Austrian born outside Vienna, was German.
My thoughts on Germanic identity in the question of the War aroused an arresting thought: why is Nazism never referred to as National Socialism? Leaving aside Occam's Razor, I believe it is because peope like socialism, for what I'm sure pass for good reasons and do not like to be reminded of its rawest form.
Slaves drawn from a variety of sources including "imported" foreign workers and concentration camp inmates, drove a significant portion of the pre-war and wartime economy of National Socialist Germany. Slavery was both necessary and justified under the NSDAP's platform, which promised enormous social welfare, demanded total self-sacrifice to the party, and denied the humanity of foreigners.
This is, as I have said, the ultimate conclusion of any socialist system: a minority of the population forced to work, at gun point, for the welfare of the majority. Hitler's National Socialism lacked, perhaps, the quidities and quillets of the modern socialist or market socialist state. Perhaps not. After all, it was all done under the full protection of German law. But then, when a free population is reduced to slavery, what matters the form of the chain?

On Stoicism, Part II: On Apatheia

2007-01-28T12:35:00.000-08:00

Lucius Seneca s.d. Caro Lectori:

"So what?" you have said to me. "So what if only our reactions are under our control?" You went on at length, complaining that I gave you a taste of wisdom and then pulled away the spoon. Indeed, dear friend, perhaps I was too abrupt in my last letter. I shall this time around correct my former deficiency. You should, though, recall that too much wisdom at a time is dangerous to the foolish man.
If we cannot control the thousand natural shocks which this flesh is heir to, what can we do? We can resist them or we can accept them. To resist the course of events, we must steel ourselves to rail daily 'gainst the heavens; to deny that what is, is; to work ceaselessly to change a world that will not be changed. It is possible that we find satisfaction in fighting a fight, but whether it is a good fight is arguable.
If we accept events, that is, if we keep our will in accordance with nature rather than decrying it, we find that our affairs run more smoothly. The whiplash of another does not sting quite so sharply; neither do we feel quite as strongly the pangs of envy, lust, pride, &c; we achieve what the Greeks called apatheia, apathy.
Now, we moderns have attributed to this wonderful word a disgusting meaning and connotation. We call teenagers "apathetic" because their stock response is "I don't care;" political scientists say the same thing about electorates because they don't vote, and so forth. For a Stoic, apatheia is an objective devoutly to be wished. It does not mean that he does not care, but rather that he accepts what happens and acknowledges that he cannot change what is already done. Moreover, the currents in the affairs of men are tranistory. An event might bring him pain, but he knows that the pain is fleeting. It might bring him joy, but that too is fleeting. Stoic apatheia is a state of calm that is unperturbed by events, but is not a state of truly not caring. In this world at this time, when instiutions long established seem constantly on the verge of collapse, when chaos and destruction lurk around every corner, how wonderful must that apatheia be!
What can we do, then, to achieve such a peaceful state?
Epictetus, in his Encheiridion or "Manual for Living," advises that we start small. When beholding a vase, I should remind myself that it is only a vase, a thing of clay and fire. It is prone to fracturing, to shattering outright. It will break, as likely as not. What then? I have lost a vase, nothing more. When I go to the gym, or the baths as Epictetus writes, I remind myself what that means: that there will be shouting, some men tussling, grunting, perhaps jostling, and even theft. I should not go the gym expecting peace and quiet, a relaxing or reflective time, because I will be disappointed and, thereby, perturbed.
In this way, that is, by taking things as they are I can maintain my equanimity and my inner tranquility, even while everyone around us is losing theirs and blaming us for it.

Cura ut valeas, Amice. I will endeavor to more quickly answer your response next time.

On Stoicism, Part I

2006-12-05T20:47:00.000-08:00

L.A. Seneca salutem dat caro Lectori:

The counting is over, the bunting is down; after the mad hysteria of a general election at last we can return to sanity. Its recent occurrence allows me the demonstration of the first question of the Stoic life: what can we affect? Or, what is under our control?

To answer this question from a Stoic perspective take Mark. Now, Mark is a very powerful man. He was born into a wealthy family, and rose to a position of great importance. It is said that he controls the world. One word from him sends kings running. But what does he really control?
Does he control the weather? Certainly not, he seeks shelter from the rain and snow and revels in warmth and sunlight, just like any other man. He can not order the rain "stop" and it stops.
As a general, one might say that he controls his troops. After all, he commands and they obey. They follow his orders, assuming they are well-trained and conditioned. Even so, those troops might mutiny, they might not fight well, they might lose their battles. So he does not control other men, and he does not control the world around him.
Does he control himself? This he obviously controls. At a command "walk" his legs move forward. At a command "write," his hand takes a pen and forms letters, words, sentences. Again, these are commands of the type given to soldiers. And again, there is the possibility of rebellion: a muscle exercised to fatigue simply will not obey the command. There is additional proof that Mark is not in control of his body. Suppose that he seeks to lose weight, or to change his physical appearance in some way. He cannot say to his hair "Change from brown to golden" or to his waist "Shrink!" and have is hair or waist obey. He can, however, influence them.
Thus far, Mark cannot control the physical world. He cannot control his fellow men. He cannot even control his own body. He can influence the world, but influence is not the same as control.
This is the first principle of Stoicism: the recognition that the world is beyond our control. As Epictetus says in his Encheiridion "Some things are in our power, others are not." The only thing that actually is in our power, of the millions of things around us, that happen to us, is our reaction.

Remember Remember the 10th of October

2006-10-10T08:53:00.000-07:00

Gentle Reader:

We find ourselves today on one of the great anniversaries of Western Civilization: the 1274th anniversary of the Battle of Tours, or Poitiers.
On this date in 732 A.D. Charles "The Hammer" Martel, Mayor of the Palace of Austrasia and grandfather to Charlemagne, with twenty thousand men defeated a Muslim army four times his size. He halted the advance of the Islamic empire in Europe, effectively saving the remnants of Christian Europe, the Church of Rome, and protecting what would become the home of the Renaissance, and, ultimately, the Enlightenment.
The advance of Islam as a political or ruling force in eastern Europe would not, unfortunately, be stopped for another thousand years when the Turk was turned back from Vienna in the seventeenth century. There is, obviously, the case to be made that it has revived in the last decade as the Turk has resumed his invasion of Europe.

On Religious War
We in the West (by which I mean those countries sharing a common Greco-Roman-to-Enlightenment heritage*) are tremendously fortunate. We have not known religious war, truly horrific religious war, since the Treaties of Muenster and Osnabruck (aka the Peace of Westphalia) and the English Restoration in the mid-seventeenth Century. At the Peace of Westphalia, all the parties to the Thirty Years' War agreed to the Peace of Augsburg (1555), which established the principle of cuius regio, eius religio (whose rule, his religion) in the Holy Roman Empire. In other words, it created an early form of official toleration that had not been seen since the fall of Rome. Of course, this toleration applied only to Christian sects (Catholic, Lutheran, and, after 1648, Calvinist).** Essentially, differences in theology were no longer a viable casus belli. State greed, which has usually been the actual cause of animosity, could finally be the official cause of animosity. Such a model of Christian charity, those medieval and early modern monarchs...
Wars of religion seem to fall into three main categories: internal wars(war of theology), external wars(war of conversion, or crusade), and religio/political struggles. A war of theology is a battle within a religious group. The Thirty Years' War, which was a war among Christian sects (Catholic v. Protestant) qualifies as a theological war. A war of conversion or extermination, a crusade or jihad***, is a struggle between two religious groups.# The Christian crusades and the wars of Mahomet qualify as external wars. The modern Salafi or Wahabbi jihadists qualify as combatants in an external war. Finally, there is the religio-political struggle. Most wars of religion qualify as a political struggle plus the internal or external question. These contests are an attempt to answer the joint question of "who rules?" and "who has the divine authority?" In religiously-oriented societies, such as the Islamic empire and medieval Europe, these questions are often inseparable.
Since the death of Mahomet, Islam has been engaged in an internal religio-political struggle: the Sunni/Shi'a split. There has not yet been a Peace of Augsburg, or a Peace of Westphalia to resolve this problem. There likely will not be one until the Moslem world fights itself to exhaustion, as the Christian did. What should happen is that the west just leave the Arabs alone to figure out their problems. Instead, we have antagonized them with the installation of a Jewish state, supported ruthless dictators, and generally created prime situations for state failure, all in the pursuit of oil.
Should have just invaded Venezuela.
I've gone on twice as long as I'd intended and not covered half the material I'd planned. But my tendonitis is kicking in, and so, Gentle Reader, I leave you with this thought:

"Very few faiths, given sufficient political power, actually practice what they preach."

So tonight at your revels, drink up a toast. To the Hammer: may his victory not be in vain.

____________________________________________________________________
*Yes, I'm obsessed with the enlightenment. Get over it.
**From an official, or any, standpoint, it still sucked to be Jewish.
***There are various meanings for jihad, including a struggle with oneself. I mean here the war of conversion.
# I include atheist and pagan as a "religious group." Most atheists can be described as religiously so.

Screw Macchiavelli

2006-10-06T09:32:00.000-07:00

This about sums it up.

Something seems very very wrong with the world, but I'm having trouble putting my finger on it. More on this thought as it develops.

For want of an Opera, the War was Lost

2006-09-27T11:07:00.000-07:00

Gentle Reader:
When I set out to write this post, the Berlin Opera had cancelled a scheduled run of Mozart's Idomeneo, Re di Creta (Idomeneo, King of Crete).
I was livid.
As I proceed to write it now, the Berlin Opera, at the encouragement of a newly-founded German/Muslim dialogue group. decided to reverse the decision and proceed with the scheduled run.
I am still livid.
In part this is because, as an angry young man, I am obligated to stay livid until my hair completes its task of falling out, but that's only a small part.
The larger issue is my subject tonight: Pre-Emptive Surrender, Charles Martel, and the Art of War.
Contrary to the actions and some statements of Our Glorious Leader, HRMH George I the current struggle between the forces of so-called "Radical Islam" and the forces of Western Civilization is existential. No, it is not a catfight between Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre, rather it is a battle for the existence of one or the other. The two have not coexisted peacefully, do not coexist peacefully, and can not coexist peacefully and retain their identities. Either the West must give in to and adopt Shariah, thus destroying at a stroke the last thousand years of intellectual and moral evolution; or Muslims must realize that a thick skin is necessary to deal with the modern world, and that Allah really doesn't need mere humans to defend him from Danish cartoonists and German Opera impresarios. You, observant Reader, can probably tell where I come down on this one.
At any rate, the decision of the Berlin Opera is a clear example of why the West will likely lose this conflict. Or, at least, why the Islamic Caliphate of Europe is not such a far-fetched idea. Recall that there was no threat made against the opera company, no indication of violence from the 3 million-odd Muslims living in Germany. Instead, the Berlin security forces recommended that they cancel the opera because it might offend someone and cause violence.
They canceled because it might offend someone. Because that offense might lead to violence. Germany, or at least Berlin, has surrendered before it even girded for battle. So much for the warlike Hun...
Sun Tzu, in his treatise "The Art of War" maintains that a victorious commander wins the battle before he comes to blows. The defeated commander comes to blows, then figures out how to win the battle. I regret to say that I think the United States is progressing in a similar way in its so-called "War on Terror." It went to war by invading Afghanistan and Iraq, and then tried to figure out how to win. Of course, the Bush White House does not even seem to have considered the possibility that HRMH would not be equal to the rhetorical and ideological war. A war hasn't been planned this badly since Olaf the Hairy, High Chief of All the Vikings, ordered ten thousand battle helmets with the horns on the inside...

P.S. Ten points to whomever tells me what Charle Martel has to do with this post.

Contradictions and Contretemps

2006-09-14T14:01:00.000-07:00

Do I contradict myself?/
Very well, I contradict myself./
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
-Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

This might very well be my motto. It is, after all, the mark of an educated person that he can hold to opposing ideas in his head without necessarily being persuaded by either. I rather enjoy the occasional inconsistency, and am more than willing to acknowledge them. And so...

Inconsistency, the First: Religion and Baseball
It is one of my rules, or rather one of the rules drummed into me, that I do not discuss religion in polite society. I might alienate someone, and have done so more than once. Those of you who know me, know that there are rarely times when I shy away from talking religion. Often, these times inolve a corn, grape, or barley distillate. Shows how powerful the rules are, but I digress.
My real topic: the National Anthem, Baseball, and "God Bless America."
I went to a Cardinals game a few nights ago (Astros at St. Louis, we spanked 'em). I enjoy watching baseball unless the Belleville Middle School Honor Choir, composed mostly of smoke alarms, dog whistles, and ten year-old girls are sitting behind me. Little girls shriek and when they are just behind my ears, they are the most horrid sonic phenomenon in history. At any rate, the announcer came on and asked the stadium to stand for the National Anthem and God Bless America.
Now, I've been to ballgames post-9/11, so the GBA thing is not news to me, but it is still upsetting. No matter how much better a song it might be, Berlin's "God Bless America" (GBA) is not the national anthem. It does not posess the same relation to this country as the "Star Spangled Banner." Please Stop Standing for "God Bless America"!
When it is sung in conjunction with the national anthem, that is as a ceremonial thing during a time of war, it becomes very alarming.
The idea and purpose behind it is clear: Gott mit uns! God is on our side! Whatever happens we have got the Maxim gun, and they have not! Et Cetera, et cetera: Jingoism and evocation. It's a standard response in wartime for any nation. Hell, during the War for Independence, Americans changed the lyrics from the British National Anthem (i.e., "God Save the King") to include a verse running:
"Arise, O God, arise/Scatter our enemies/And Make them Fall"
I would have no problem with re-using that idea; it's an honest statement of what most Americans would like to happen: the complete and utter destruction of the militant, destructive forces in Islam. Americans want to feel safe and be safe. This is good.
GBA, however, asks for God's blessing. I am no theologian, but I have read the Bible. My understanding is that a blessing is not supposed to be a good thing only for the person being blessed, but rather a gift of strength to make the world a better place. In other words, a person is "blessed to be a blessing" as Abraham was in Genesis 12:2-3.
I am not at all convinced that the United States' actions in this "War on Terror" have been a blessing to the world. Indeed, we seem to have sown chaos and terror wherever we go. Of course, this is all in the name of "God-given liberty," so that makes it alright. All men want to be free, after all. If they don't, never mind. We'll abolish all mankind.