Remembering Rudyard

When I was a child, Rudyard Kipling was my favorite poet. I remember listening to a 78 rpm record of a recitation of Gunga Din in Grandma Stapleton's brownstone house on State Street in Albany, New York. The house is now long gone. "Rockefeller stole our house so his friends could build office buildings."

I listened to it so many times, I committed it to memory. I must have been only five or six years of age, because we did not visit as much after that. When I was in Junior High School, I entered poetry reading contests and used this poem, long since memorized.

In college, I killed a couple of otherwise pleasant evening by deciding someone might enjoy hearing me recite the poem.

It was an odd thing this love my grandmother had for Kipling. She, the hater of the English and all things English and he, the poet of English Empire. Or at least that was how we generally viewed him.

He had written Ulster 1912, anti-Irish home rule, anti-Catholic.

But I doubt that he was always the imperialist. Maybe it is reading through eyes that want to see the world rose colored, but those Empire poems seemed anti-imperialistic to me.
In one of the odd turns in my life I took a graduate course in Portuguese studying the epic poem of Portugal, Os Lusiados, by Luis Camoes. This was the great imperialist poem of Portugal that sounded to me to be anti-imperialist. And then, I think the Iliad is anti-war. I thought Patton was an anti-war movie. I saw Natural Born Killers as a comedy. So I know my judgment on these things is hardly to be trusted.

The White Man's Burden is supposed to be an appeal to the United States to colonize the Philippines. I have never been able to view as "an appeal" the following lines:

Send forth the best ye breed--
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness....

Nor have I ever been able to read the Recessional as favoring Empire, but more as a caution against it:

Far-called, our navies melt away;
On dune and headland sinks the fire:
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!

His background, to me, would more likely produce a critic of Empire than an imperialist. He was born in Bombay, India and during his happy early days was raised by the Portuguese Nanny and the Hindu Meeta who taught him the stories that became the basis for his later Jungle Books. When he was later shipped off to English boarding, he was miserable.

In general, people who are exposed to foreign peoples, tend to have their sense of white superiority tempered by a dose of experience. Luis Camoes was one. I think, also, of the contrast between Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace.

Kipling was awarded and accepted the Nobel Prize. He refused both knighthood and offers to be Poet Laureate of England. Not, to me, a sign of an ambitious imperialist.

It seems to me the death of his son at war in 1915 would have made him anti-war (which means anti-empire) if he were not so before. Teddy Roosevelt had a similar shift when his son died at war. I would imagine that it is hard to stay jingo when the big sacrifice is made. Of course, modern imperialists do not seem to make the foolish mistake of sending their own children (first twins Jenna and Barbara, for instance) to risk death.

EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-1918

An Only Son

I have slain none except my Mother. She
(Blessing her slayer) died of grief for me.

COMMON FORM

If any question why we died,
Tell them, because our fathers lied.

A DEAD STATESMAN

I could not dig: I dared not rob:
Therefore I lied to please the mob.
Now all my lies are proved untrue
And I must face the men I slew.
What tale shall serve me here among
Mine angry and defrauded young?

Does this sound like an imperialist to you?

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)

Happy Saint Paddy's Day and a Kind Word for Corruption

Of course, I love politics.

It beats cutting sod.

Saint Patrick's day makes me think of corruption and why we need it. My Irish-born grandma had no question about the issue. "There is honest and then there is damn honest," she would say. It was good to be honest, but only a fool would be damn honest.

Self-righteousness about corruption was fine if you were a Dutchman or a Black and Tan who owned the country anyway, but if you were a Mick, and had to buy some influence, well, it was because you did not have any. However the injunction, "do not muzzle the ox that treads out the corn," may be interpreted by theologians, she knew it justified the small bribe to the building inspector or the cop.

Lincoln Steffens (Does anyone know who he is anymore? Do journalist read and revere him in school?) recognized the good the corrupt big city bosses did for common people. Reformers, for all of their pious self-assurance, ultimately served the interests of the aristocracy.

Harry Truman went back for the funeral of Boss Pendergast, saying if he did not he would be an ungrateful son of a bitch.

If you are in a system where a small bribe to the arresting officer can serve the same purpose as hiring an expensive law firm, access to the system is more democratic.

We may differ on other issues, but I have trouble getting exercised about accusations that Eddie and Rene have used campaign funds to pay for rat poison and dry cleaning.

We can either elect independently wealthy candidates who will serve the black and tans or we can elect people who need the money. Since neither state representative nor state senator pay enough to survive, we fairly well insist that the lawyers accept clients to peddle influence and the non-lawyers start consulting companies to peddle influence.

These are the choices: elect the rich, elect a saint or expect some trade of influence for the good life. Saints are in short supply and as a rule I would prefer little corruptions of a broke candidate to the big structural corruptions of a rich one.

This being the case, there are two rules for the office holder: 1. Don't be too greedy. 2. Try to peddle influence to the less odious players.

1. The sin is less in the corruption, than in getting rich in office. Lyndon is said to have lamented that people did not love him because he got rich in office. Pigs get fat and hogs get slaughtered.

2. Don't peddle to the TMA, credit card companies, asbestos companies and tax collection lawyers. Peddle to unions, environmental organizations, personal injury lawyers and teachers. They don't pay as well, but you will be more likely to go to heaven.

In truth, as far as I know, my old grandma never prayed to Saint Patrick. Usually it was Saint Jude. Saint Patrick may have been the patron saint of Ireland and chased out the snakes. Saint Jude, though, took care of hopeless causes. We needed miracles more than we were worried about snakes.

Freedom of Speech and Freedom From Quartered Troops, Illegal Searches, Hopes for Penumbras and Emanations and other Mournfully Expectant Desires

Granddaddy of all Bloggers

WWMD

"I speak truth, not so much as I would, but as much as I dare; and I dare a little the more, as I grow older; for, methinks, custom allows to age more liberty of prating, and more indiscretion of talking of a man's self." The granddaddy of all bloggers (hereinafter GOAB) tells us.

What greater security in freedom of speech GOAB offers from "custom;" far more constant, than that whippersnapper, the First Amendment.

This brings me to further discussion of the Bill of Rights, in particular the 1st, 3rd, 4th, 9th and 10th.

First, to my Primo (that is, both directly descended from the McGroarty family of County Donegal, by way of Wilkes-Barre, Penn.--everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's day) and his concern for the 1st Amendment. Also, to offer to him the sincerest form of flattery.

The First Amendment is gone. Justice Holmes burned it in the burning theater. Adams and Woodrow Wilson jailed it during time of war. And then most deadly of all, the corporations bought it: Time Warner, Disney, Murdoch's News Corporation, Bertelsmann of Germany, and Viacom (formerly CBS) -- now control most of the media industry in the U.S. General Electric's NBC is a close sixth.

You and I, Primo, can say most anything we want because we have no power. No one cares because no one listens. But imagine if either one of us owned one of the big five. Only then would we find out if First Amendment provides any protection. My hunch is that just as free speech disappears in time of war, a clear and present danger would exist if either of us were in a position of power.

Now back to the antinomianism. Neither your hero Voltaire, nor my hero GOAB had the benefit of the Bill of Rights. The salvation of society, in the unlikely event it occurs, will not be by law, but by grace. The Bill of Rights, however graceful, is still law.

Now the 3rd Amendment, alone, seems still to be around and strong. I search the house each day and find no troops quartered.

The 4th Amendment appears to have been repealed with the war on drugs. I did not read about the repeal in the advance sheets, but try to keep someone out of the slam on the flimsy grounds that he has not been secure in his person, house, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures.

Fellow blogger, BobbyWC describes his hope for the 9th Amendment. The 9th and 10th Amendments describe the rights and powers being retained by the people. These amendments had a brief flowering with the Right of Privacy being found in the "penumbras and emanations" of the Amendments. Outside of this pleasing phrase, not much satisfaction has come from 9 and 10.

Charles L. Black in his slim book, A New Birth of Freedom, argues the Declaration of Independence, in particular the "right to the pursuit of happiness" be carried down into and through the Ninth and Fourteenth Amendments. He argues the result "will be a thoroughgoing and never-ending working-over of the regime of law..." leaving folks alone to pursue happiness, which he thinks is not a bad thing.