Hillary for VP

I was at my son's wedding reception in St. Louis this weekend when a rumor swept the hall that Hillary had been chosen as Vice President nominee by Obama. I think Randall (the one whose life, I argue, has not been a failure) got a call from his wife and started the rumor. I told several people myself. Later we all ran to the TV and the internet to confirm the story, but no one else seems to have heard of it.

Dr. K thought Obama would pick Caroline Kennedy or a Republican Chuck Hagel so he was surprised. I thought ultimately Obama would pick Hillary so I felt vindicated. But now it appears my gloating was premature. However, I still think she should be chosen.

I am not a big fan of Hillary's and did not vote for her in the primary, but I think she would be a good choice for several reasons. First, it would be the democratic thing to do. She did after all get the second most votes. The Constitution originally gave the Vice Presidency to the second place winner, regardless of party, so this is not exactly a new concept. Second, she appears to have a base of support different from Obama's. I don't know why this is, really, but if it is so, it would be ticket balancing. I assume Obama will carry New York without Hillary, but I do know my wife, mother and sister all supported Obama and they would be happier with her on the ticket. Third, my wife, sister and mother all supported Hillary and I don't want to have to hear about it if Obama picks someone else and loses.

In the primaries, just 1.3 million Texans voted Republican compared to almost 2.9 million who voted Democrat. The Nation magazine has an article this week that makes the argument that Texas could turn blue. The enthusiasm shown by Hillary supporters, especially on issues like health insurance and mortgage relief, at the county convention make me think a Texas upset might be possible.

Pascal's First Three Provincial Letters

"Go West Young Man," is the phrase Horace Greeley famously stole from another editorial. "Read Pascal, Old Man" is what my kid suggests. So I have been trying.

I dutifully hopped on the adult tricycle loaned to me by Jeff (the retired syphilis hunter) and peddled over to the Brownsville Public Library. There, the only Pascal available was volume 30 out of the Great Books publication. So I check it out and I also picked up both volumes of the Syntopicon for browsing.

For the last several days, I have been reading The Provincial Letters.  It seemed reasonable to start at the beginning of the book, because I don't know enough about the writings to skip to the good parts.  Also, the last third is filled with science and math and equations that I will probably never be able to read.  Unfortunately several days of reading and re-reading has taken me only through the first three letters.

Austin sneers at the reading of interpretations, histories, biographies, etc. from the classic writers, but with hard guys, I tend to read around them a while before I can get up the courage to actually read the book. Sometimes I only read around them and never get to the book.

In the case of Pascal, except for the two page "Biographical Note" at the beginning of the Volume 30, I haven't read anything.  Usually, trying to get ready to read something this intimidating, I would first read a biography of Pascal, then I would read a history of 17th Century France, then I would read a history of mathematicians and then I would pick up a "the Best of" type of collection that has summaries and explanations surrounding snippets of original work.  The down side to this approach is that I may never actually read anything by the author I am reading about so I don't get a chance to see if I agree with any of the critiques.  For instance, I once read a good biography of James Joyce.  I still have both Ulysses and Finnegans Wake knocking around in the house, unread.

For what very little it may be worth, this is what I have gleaned from the first three Provincial Letters:  Pascal was attracted to a form of French Catholicism called Jansenism.  A theologian for the Jansenists named M. Arnauld was "brought before the Sorbonne" which seems to mean was tried in a court that decided correct theology.  The Sorbonne must have been large because 71 doctors tried to defend him and "on the other side" eighty secular doctors and some forty mendicant friars condemned him.

Pascal came to the rescue with these Provincial letters.  The orthodox view was promoted by the Jesuits and this was that every person had "sufficient grace" given to him by God to obey the divine commandments.  The Jansenists said, maybe so, every person has sufficient grace, but not every person was given by God the "efficacious grace," so they couldn't actually obey the divine commandments by putting this sufficient grace into action.

The Jesuits accused the Jansenists of believing like Protestants and in particular, Calvinists, that God had given this efficacious grace only to a chosen few.  Then there were fence straddlers who agreed with the Jansenists, but wanted to stay on the right side of the argument politically who said, "Sufficient grace is given to all, but not every one has the type of grace that will suffice."

Pascal notes that the choices given are being censured as a Jansenist, being a heretic or being a blockhead and offending against reason.

Pascal has one of his characters argue that silence is the safest position.  If you cannot remain silent, the next safest position is being a blockhead.

I'm sure there is a moral to this story, a punch-line to this joke, a crisis to be weathered, a lesson to be learned.  If I get to the end and figure it out, I'll let you know.  

Austin's interpretation of "That our happiness must not be judged until after our death."

Mr. Dupin observes: Perhaps its the translation,but I find it difficult to take any real meaning from XVIII other than what seems apparent on its face: "That Men Are Not to Judge Of Our Happiness Till After Death" because Fortune plays a role.

This is my reading as well. An aside, Uncle Toby: The translation I read is by Donald M. Frame. It is a 20th Century Translation first published in 1957. Mr. Dupin uses Charles Cotton's translation from the late 17th Century. John Florio's translation from the early 17th Century is the one to which I linked yesterday's post. Both Cotton's and Florio's translations are pleasing to the ear. Frame's is easier for me to understand.

Austin, though, tells me I am missing the whole point of the essay. He gives three clues to support his argument: 1. When referring to the Latin, pre-Christian writers, "fortune" is not capitalized, but when referring to the present day, "Fortune" is capitalized. 2. When reaching his conclusion, he notes, "God has willed it as he pleased...." 3. Montaigne notes three (not two or four) execrable and infamous persons whose deaths were ordered and "in every sense composed to perfection." 4. The "by his fall" language echoes the descent into hell of Jesus and other Christian references.

Austin says, we may dismiss one or two of these clues, but at three,we have to pay attention because Montaigne fills his essays with hints of his true intentions. And however much he may love the classics, Montaigne is still very much the Christian.

This, then, is the the argument Austin gives from the hints: "That our happiness must not be judged until after our death" is a rejection of the pagan virtues and an embrace of salvation through Christ. Upon death, the "power and fame" to which we aspire by a career is surpassed by something more grand and glorious than we have desired or hoped.

The pagans before Jesus recognized that "however fortune (small 'f') may smile on them, men cannot be called happy until they have been seen to spend the last day of their lives. The pre-Christian standard is the "state" of the person. If a king is captured and ends up a carpenter or clerk to Rome, his station in life has changed and he cannot be happy.

Today (Montaigne's time) we have Jesus and the present time is indicated when saying, "For it seems that, as storms and tempests are provoked to humble the pride and loftiness of our buildings," so are there "spirits up above" who are envious of grandeurs here below and will wreak havoc on human things and trample all that speaks of human eminence and laugh them all to scorn.

It further seems (again in Montaigne's Christian present tense) that "Fortune (big 'f') sometimes lies in wait precisely for the last day of our life, to show her power to overturn in a moment what she has built up over many years...."

The three execrable and infamous persons are meant to remind us of Jesus and the two thieves on the cross. And the holy trinity. Who but Jesus had a death that was "ordered and in every circumstance composed to perfection?"

By embracing Christian Grace and rejecting the ambitions and designs of man, we can gain a gallant and fortunate death. Through Christ, we may arrive where we "aspired to without going there, more grandly and gloriously" than we had desired or hoped. By our fall we may go beyond the power and the fame to which we had aspired in by our careers.

According to Austin, in this essay, Montaigne answers the question, "Does it matter, this success or failure in life?" with, "No. Success and failure are replaced by something more grand and glorious--the Peace of Christ. This is what allows us when we die to "go well, that is to say quietly and insensibly."

Mr. Dupin also notes that as with the Bible, "improper translation and interpretation can lead to unintended results." This has long concerned me. If Jesus spoke Aramaic, and then His words were written down in Greek and much later translated to English, how am I to rely on what Jesus supposedly said, not speaking or reading Aramaic or Greek?

Neither do I read French. Oh, to be an exegete.

Interpreting Montaigne: Ed's superficial reading of the Essay of judging happiness only after death

I was pleased with the comments yesterday's blog elicited.  As Mr. Dupin observed, Montaigne (the granddaddy of all bloggers, GOAB) does say it best, in his essay, (aptly named for our subject) "That our happiness must not be judged until after our death." He begins by quoting Ovid:

No man should be called happy till his death; 

Always we must await his final day

Reserving judgment till he's laid away. 

Here I have the aid of my son, Austin, back from his studies for a few days, in interpreting: Ovid's stories involve metamorphosis.  The man with the grief in his old age was Cadmus.  "Actaeon, one of your grandsons, was your first reason for grief, in all your happiness, Cadmus."   The grandson grew horns on his forehead and his hunting dogs ate him.   As long and happy as Cadmus' life had been when his grandchildren began to suffer, his joy ended.

Mr. Hugo 2006 adds the alliterative "lawyers' lament" verdict to the concerns about success and failure.   But we lawyers cannot take comfort from the fact we are largely too selfish to find ourselves working in a hospice;  we very well may end up the recipient of the care.

Montaigne makes the point, "God has willed it as he pleased; but in my time three of the most execrable and most infamous persons I have known in very abomination of life have had deaths that were ordered and in every circumstance composed to perfection."

And it feels like to me, good people often have nasty, ugly deaths.  When the wrong organs begin to fail before the rest of the body, long periods a pain result.

Montaigne also tells us, "In judging the life of another, I always observe how it ended; and one of my principal concerns about my own end is that it shall go well, that is to say quietly and insensibly."

Montaigne is concerned that we may live just a day too long.  He quotes someone named Laberius:  "Truly this day I have lived one day longer than I should have."  When I first read that I tried to figure out who Laberius was and why he thought he should have avoided a certain day.

One guy named Laberius was ridiculed by Julius Caesar but he won the day by being quicker witted.  This is all I can find out about him, but it doesn't seem like his last day disgraced his historical legacy, in any case.

Another guy name Laberius died in Britain with a spear through his lung.

Lingering on seems to give the chance to repair a reputation.  It is rather like refusing to pass the examination of a harmful witness until something good comes of the testimony.  A line in Chinatown made this point: "Course I'm respectable.  I'm old.  Politicians, ugly buildings, and whores all get respectable if they last long enough."

Presidents are said to worry about what history will say.  And I have friends who worry about a legacy.  "Will I be known as a greater lawyer than Clarence Darrow?"  That sort of thing.

Now my task is to decide whether or not it matters.

That all having been said, Austin tells me I have missed the whole point of the essay.  On the next post, I'll describe what he says it really means.

Sans teeth, Sans eyes...

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

My first reaction to the Dylan Thomas poem is, "Typical old drunk. You'll accomplish not much raging against the inevitable."

But he, at least, has a plan for aging. I haven't gotten there yet.

People will give subtle hints that you are aging. For instance, I went to a comedy show with Austin and Kate a while back and all the comedians called me "Old Dude."

I do have some aging coaches who give me some ideas on how to do this hard thing.

My mother works cross-word puzzles every day and calls me to discuss some of the hard ones. She is the determined wordsmith at 85. She is planning a 100th birthday celebration with two of her sisters. She would be the oldest if they make it. She has an aunt on each side of her family who lived past 100, so she is hopeful. She heads out most days for a long walk around tiny Romney, WV. She must be some type of town fixture by now.

My old Grandma Stapleton was reciting poetry until her last year at 88. She was formidable and aggressive, too, until the end.

My friend Dr. Kuri, also, has given me much guidance. At 82, he still works seven days a week, preparing patient histories and doing pre-employment physicals. During a cross-examination today, he defended his opinion, despite his age, by noting that he is still 6 years younger than Justice Stevens. True. John Paul Stevens was born April 20, 1920 and turns 88 this month. He remains active on the Court and if he can last three more years he will pass Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. to take the record. Dr. Kuri could also have noted he is still 9 years younger than Holmes was when he was still writing Supreme Court Decisions. (Stevens authored Atkins v. Virginia, the case I discussed yesterday, that banned execution of the retarded.)

Once upon a time, long, long ago, I used to worry about not having saved any money for retirement. It was Dr. Kuri who let me off the hook on that one and told me I could not retire anyway, because I would deteriorate much too rapidly.

The worst thing about longevity: you outlive all your friends. I watched as my Grandma Stapleton's last friends and relatives died. She would watch the obituaries closely. There was a sense of triumph that she had outlasted another one, but also the sad realization that she was being left more and more alone.

Normal changes with aging. Dr. Kuri notes about teeth: it is not normal to be toothless at thirty. It is normal at 90.

I find that I am not always sure whether something is wrong or it is just a little aging. I was having a little trouble with my knees getting up and down stairs recently. I thought, "Whoops, aging." Then it get better and went away. I think I had too much incline on the treadmill during my once-monthly attempt at exercise.

One option is to try not to age. You know, comb overs, prematurely orange hair.

Another is to accept the course as the poet describes it:

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything." — Jaques (Act II, Scene VII, lines 139-166)

Let the people take heart and hope everywhere, for the cross is bending, the midnight is passing and joy cometh with the morning. Eugene V. Debs

To the tune of Mammy's little baby loves shortnin':

"Rush," says the boss
"Work like as hoss
I'll take the profit
and you take the loss

I've got the brains
I've got the dough
The Lord himself
Decreed it so."

Mammy's little baby loves union union
Mammy's little baby loves union shop,

etc.


Someday, we will look back on employment in the same way we now look back on slavery. In fact, the term "wage slavery" is not a metaphor. It is a form of slavery that should be abolished. It is not usually as cruel as slavery slavery, but it can be.

This is simple statement of the premise: Everyone should get the full value of his labor. To get any less is theft. To get anymore is theft.

Capital is withheld wages. If a company accumulates capital it means wages have been withheld from those who earned them. Unless these wages go to benefit the labor that produced them, then they have been stolen from the rightful owners.

I know this all sounds dry, and preachy and Marxist.

(May I first say, I am not a Marxist. First, I cannot be an "-ist" for anyone I cannot read and rarely have I found a German author whose work I am able to read. I cannot be a Hegelian either. Or a Kantian or a Heideggerian. All these books sit on my shelf and my son has read them and he recommends them, but it is not likely to happen.

Next, to the extent I can understand the issues, in the great battle between Karl Marx and Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, I stand with Proudhon. (Maybe this is just because the French write better.) Proudhon rejected collective ownership in favor of a plan in which the individual worker had ownership and he believed that social revolution could be achieved peacefully.

Also, I have never been the member of any organization that saw the teaching of Marx as an organizing force. I did try to get into the Navy Judge Advocates General Corps once which is publicly owned and operated, but I don't know if they talk about Marx or not, because I didn't get in.

So, unless you are just feeling grumpy, there is no need to call me a Marxist. Also, there is some risk I might begin to imagine that I have read Marx.

Also, it is not really accurate to call me a socialist, either. I am not a fan of collective ownership in most cases, although I would like to see a socialized bank, hospital and insurance company competing with privately owned ones. If we had these things, I would probably use them. However, I think we need privately owned houses to live in. I think everyone should have one. (This is an evolving opinion. I tried going without any property for a while during my Tolstoy period, but it was very inconvenient).

Don't under-estimate the quality of government work. Government prisons are far better than private prisons. The U.S. Army is first rate, I hear, and far better than the private mercenary corporations, at least as far as I can tell from news reports. The best criminal defense law firm in town are the Federal Public Defenders. If I ever get in trouble, I'll admit how broke I am (Kathy wants me to keep this secret), so they will represent me.

I am pretty socialistic in the sense that I would like to see a Year of Jubilee (hit the link in the title)and international equalization of all wealth, but this is more religious than economic. I have read biographies of Eugene V. Debs and if I had been around in 1912 or 1916 or 1920, I would have voted for him. Debs was a socialist, but I don't think I really am. We named our spare bedroom after Debs.

Fighting Bob La Follette was both a Republican and a Progressive and looks to me a lot like a socialist. If he were running this time around, I would vote for him and cast my first Republican vote. This is regardless of the office. Also, I would vote for the Vermont Independent Socialist, Bernie Sanders.

My friend, Dan Boyd, suggests I am an anarcho-syndicalist. I like the title. From the web, it appears anarcho-syndicalists also call themselves libertarian socialists, I guess as opposed to authoritarian socialists or libertarian economic oppressors. Brownsville, though, appears to have not anarcho-syndicalist clubs or political parties. I don't know much about the Rotarians or the Kiwanians or the Knights of Columbus. These may all be anarcho-syndicalists, but I am deterred by the funny hats. I read the Autobiography of Big Bill Haywood one of the founders of the Wobblies. I am a fan. We named our kitchen after Haywood.

I am still a Democrat. You can be these other things and still be a Democrat. In fact as Bill Clinton is now trying to prove again, as George Wallace showed before, you can be a racist and be a Democrat. You can also be these things and be a Republican, or at least once upon a time you could. The racism is easy for a Republican, as David Duke recently demonstrated and Woodrow Wilson earlier established. Teddy Roosevelt was a Republican and by his last race he was at least a progressive. Fighting Bob La Follette was both a Republican and a Progressive and looks to me a lot like a socialist.

My friend and tax man, Bill Fulcher, is both a Democrat and statewide treasure of the socialists. Where but Brownsville can you find a socialist tax man? I also have a socialist barber. God, I love this town.

The problem with me being a Democrat, though, is I am usually angry with most Democrats who grab office and, also, given a chance, I sue them a lot.

Another problem: I have strong doubts that voting matters at all. As my son Austin argues, "If voting made a difference, it would be illegal." That is probably right. I quit voting for a while because I worried about Matthew vii, 1 and thought maybe Jesus was instructing us not to vote in the Sermon on the Mount. It makes sense and that is how the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Mennonites interpret it. Fan, again. I have never met a Witness or a Mennonite I did not like, but no rooms have been named after them.

My greatest concern is that voting in a non-democratic format such as plebiscites for Napoleon or Hitler or in the Electoral College or in the Democratic Super-delegate system uses up energy that could be more effectively directed to something important. Like writing in a blog, for instance.

My two favorite magazines are the Economist and the Socialist Worker. The Economist is an English, capitalist magazine and the Socialist Worker is an American (and obviously socialist) magazine. Both promote a economic interpretation of history and the world. In fact, they are very similar, except for the last paragraphs of the articles. The Economist describes a world in which money governs everything and that's OK. The Socialist Workers describe a world in which money governs everything and that's not OK. Anyway, I think both are more trustworthy for predictions of political races and economic trends than those confused magazines such as Nation, Texas Observer and National Review (yes, I read that one on-line) that think ideas are more important than money in predicting social behavior. (OK, OK, I may also occasionally read People, but it doesn't count here).

Treat all of this as a long digression, Uncle Toby. People often ask me why I don't run for office. The tirade above should put that to rest. I don't expect anyone to care what my politics are. I just throw it in to anticipate questions about where this labor opinion comes from and because I very much enjoy talking about myself.

Now, where does this opinion come from?

1. I have been an employer, and not a very good one.
2. I have been an employee and it was a bad fit.
3. I tried to start a coop and we never got off the ground, because it lost more money than it made--tens of thousands of dollars more.

I have tested the limits of the employer-employee relationships off and on since I got fired from my job as a paperboy for trying to organize a union.

These issues also include some skeletons that I must toss out of the closet. Bear with me, readers true. Sorting all of this out may be as hard as all of that time I have done in therapy.