Editorial note: This is a longer read than what we normally post here, but it’s a fun seasonal story that goes with the pictures so we decided to run with it. If you want to jump directly to the pictures, you can click here. Similarly, since the story runs almost 9,000 words, if you have to leave and come back later, you can jump directly to the beginning of a section using any of these links:
- The Curse of Being Blessed
- A Moment of Romance
- A Moment of Tragedy
- An Unwanted Gift
- A Moment of Trial
- Travel to a New Land
- Building A New Home
- Sleigh Bells In The Snow
- Welcome to the North Pole
Thank you for reading. We hope you enjoy this special holiday post!
We all grew up hearing similar stories, how this guy named Santa Claus brings toys and goodies to good little boys and girls around the world on December 24. We formed our opinions based on Clement Moore’s account. We turned the Rankin/Bass version of history into gospel. Then, as we got a bit older, we grew to appreciate the legend of Saint Nicholas of Myra.
I’m here to tell you that all of those accounts are wrong. Well, mostly wrong. His given name is Nicholas, though anyone who knew him when he was younger called him Nicky and that’s Mrs. Claus’ preferred name for him still. Mrs. Claus? No, her name isn’t Jessica nor Mary, or even Merry. Martha Delores Ljung is the name with which she was born. She and Nicholas Klaus were married December 19, 293 ADE.
Yes, they really are that old. They’ve seen much and endured more than one can possibly imagine. That is why they have decided to finally let us tell their story, the real one without all the sugar coating that makes them palatable to children who desperately long for some form of a kind, giving adult in their lives. What really happened all those centuries ago isn’t quite as simple and pretty as what Rankin/Bass put together.
So, make yourself some hot cocoa and pull a chair up by the fireplace. The tale of Mr. and Mrs. Klaus is not for the faint of heart.
The Curse of Being Blessed
Right from the start, one needs to understand that Nicky and Martha were born during a period of history that was about as chaotic as anything possibly could be. The Third Century Crisis, as it is known, had seen the thorough decimation of most the extended Roman Empire. The ascension of Aurelius as Emperor in 270, the year Nicky was born, was the first positive step toward ending the disaster, but it came at a steep price. Aurelius had viciously laid waste to much of the Celtic portion of the Empire with a scorched earth policy that eliminated any city not loyal to Rome. By the time Diocletian became emperor in 284, bringing in much-needed stability across the Empire, the Celtic region was struggling just to survive. Poverty and hunger were the rule.
Somehow, most likely through bribes and gifts to military commanders, the wealthy Klaus family had managed to hold on to their land and preserve most of their holdings. Nicky grew up quite differently from other Celtic boys, with a strong education and a deep understanding of economic principles. He always had plenty to eat, so he grew taller than most children and was noticeably stronger than the deprived children who toiled outside his family’s estate.
Nicky was the oldest of three children. His younger brother, Kristofer, was his closest friend and confidant but was crippled by a fall from an apple tree when he was five. Nicky’s sister, Amelia, was a precious child with a sharp wit that was good for putting Nicky in his place but was caught by the plague and died when she was only 12.
While these events might sound like tragedies to us today, they were fairly normal occurrences during the third century. No family was spared the loss of children. Kristofer was rarely allowed outside his room, so Nicky took to playing with the children of the family servants and through them became aware of how fleeting, and often miserable, these young lives were. Playmates he enjoyed one day would grow ill without warning and simply disappear, their fate never being mentioned, nor their passing mourned.
While Nicky enjoyed a fine home made of wood and stone, most hovels were little more than mud and straw pasted together around a gathering of sticks. At night, Nicky slept on a mattress filled with straw and covered in down quilts while his playmates huddled next to their parents on the floor, close to fires, hoping to not freeze to death during the cold winter nights. Growing up in this atmosphere created within Nicky a strong sense of compassion, especially for the children around his village of Arras in what is now Northern France. Frequently, he would slip into the kitchen after a meal and take the scraps left for dogs and pass them along to his playmates.
Being the son of a nobleman, Nicky was afforded the luxury of travel as part of his education, giving him a chance to see first-hand the destruction that Aurelius and his armies had wrought. Wherever he spent the night, Nicky would do his best to find some way to help people in the village, whether by adding money to their treasury, or, more often, helping to build simple carts, plows, and other basic tools necessary to maintain life. He became popular throughout the region of Gaul and even into Germania.
These trips were cut short, however, when Nicky’s father, Constantine, became gravely ill. Nicky was brought back home to attend to the household, a tall order for a young man of only 16. As Constantine laid on his deathbed, he called his eldest son to his side for a traditional blessing.
“I wish for you, my son, all the wonderful things of this life and the next,” the older man said. “May you know wisdom to navigate through these perilous times. May your wealth increase with each passing year and may Rome’s burden on you be slight. May the compassion I have seen in you continue to grow and may the blessings you receive be spread around the world.”
Constantine coughed severely, so much that Nicky was certain his father would cease breathing right there, but as he caught a last bit of breath he motioned his son to come closer and spoke softly into his ear.
“Beware, my son, of the deceits of man. Many are those who would do you evil and do evil to others. Know what is right. Reward the good and punish the bad. Let nothing be hidden from you.”
Again, the elder Klaus coughed quite ferociously and this time he did not recover. Nicky pulled the blanket over his father’s head and assumed his position as head of the family, unaware of all that his father’s blessing would soon entail.
A Moment Of Romance
For a couple of years, life went on pretty much as normal. Nicky experimented with how the seed was sown in the family fields, dramatically increasing yield. Then, as Diocletian solidified his rule over all the Roman Empire, bringing a new level of order to the outer reaches of Gaul, Nicky was able to find new markets for the good produced by the artisans the family employed. His understanding of Roman economic policies allowed him to expand his family’s wealth while avoiding the frequently severe taxes imposed by the Empire. The young man’s cheerful disposition also helped him stay in favor with the Roman Legion that was responsible for protecting the region from Hun raiding parties that occasionally came across Germania.
What was good for Nicky was good for all of Arras. With his increasing excess, he was able to invest in additional artisans, especially those who were skilled in weaving thread. The tapestry for which the city would one day be famous had not yet developed, but Nicky found several in the village who were skilled at weaving and looming. By bringing their talents together, he was able to form an industry that brought considerable wealth to the entire town.
Nicky created a special chair and table combination so that Kristofer, who was even more skilled at math than Nicky, could sit up and manage the family finances. As things at home stabilized, Nicky returned to traveling in an effort to expand trade. It was on one such trip, at an inn outside Augsburg, he met Martha. He was immediately taken not only by her beauty and ability to cook some of the best food he’d ever tasted, but he was also mesmerized by her quick wit and ability to put people in their place without causing offense.
Likewise, Martha was impressed by the young man’s boisterous laugh and generous nature. Not only did he have a habit of buying beer for everyone in the inn, but continually brought stable hands and others into the inn for a meal as well. There was never an empty table when Nicky was present. The depth of his kindness was so unusual that it was impossible to not fall in love with him.
Of course, one did not simply fall in love and get married during the third century. Nicky wasted little time talking with Martha’s father and making arrangements to marry her, a deal with which she readily agreed. A minister was quickly secured before Nicky had a chance to change his mind and by the time Nicky was ready to return to Gaul he and Martha had already become inseparable.
Imagine the surprise of his family back n Arras when Nicky returned with more than just the tools and materials that had been the point of his trip! Nicky’s mother, Brunita, was happy to have another woman in the house but found it was often too difficult to keep up with the young woman who was well organized and efficient beyond anything the older woman had ever seen. Kristofer, too, was impressed with his brother’s new wife who not only matched Nicky’s kindness but understood accounting as well as he did and was even able to help when he became too weak to do the writing on his own.
As dark and hopeless as the third century could be, all seemed to be going rather well for the Klaus family. Riches mounted faster than Nicky could find suitable investments and within a few months, Martha was expecting her first child. The impending birth was greeted with such joy that the entire village planned for a massive celebration when the child was born.
In an age still dominated by barbarism, however, good moments rarely lasted very long and for the Klaus family, things were about to take a very ugly turn.
A Moment of Tragedy
Martha has never been the kind of woman who could sit back and take it easy. She is as constantly busy now as she ever was and even when she was eight months pregnant she was out around Arras taking care of household business, despite her mother-in -law’s objections. Many of the deals Martha created with local artisans and bakers required careful finessing, something she trusted to no one other than herself. So, that she was out after dinner on a cold, dark November night was not especially unusual.
Of course, she had taken the precaution of taking two strapping young servants with her for protection. As kind and trusting as Martha is, she’s never been considered a fool and she knew how dangerous the streets of Arras could be after dark, if not from thieves simply from not being able to find one’s way well in the dark. Stepping in an unexpected hole could be just as dangerous as encountering a person of ill intent. Even oil lamps common to Rome were still a couple of centuries away from becoming commonplace in Gaul. The servants carried torches that, after several minutes in the village, barely provided any light at all.
Matha still has no recollection as to exactly what happened that night. Witnesses say the Roman Legionnaires were riding their horses at such a high speed that they couldn’t have seen the dim light of the torches to know that there was anyone in the road. Why Martha and the servants didn’t hear the horses and move out of the way remains a mystery. Whatever the reason or cause, the five horses apparently didn’t see Martha and her group in time to avoid them, running all three down in the middle of the road. Both servants were killed instantly. Martha instinctively rolled when she hit the ground, likely saving her life, but she still suffered severe injuries and was barely breathing by the time villagers found her and delivered to the Klaus home.
For days, Nicky stayed by Martha’s bedside, delegating all other matters to household staff. He sent for the best healers across the region, but none were able to offer any real assistance. Even as Brunita quietly removed the dead infant from Martha’s womb and began making funeral arrangements for Martha, Nicholas stayed firm with his wife, refusing to shave or remove his immense leather traveling coat until she was restored.
Days stretched into weeks and both Brunita and Kristofer urged Nicholas to return to work, letting the details of business take his mind off his ailing wife. The young man refused. He was insistent that he be the first face she saw when she awoke, which could be at any minute.
Desperation was beginning to set in over the family. Without Nicky running things, bills were going unpaid, agreements unfulfilled. No one understood the details as Nicky did and no one could handle family affairs as well. Then, late into the night on the 20th of December, there was a knock at the door. A ragged old man named Silas stood at the door. He said he was a preacher from this new religious sect known as Christians. Nicky had encountered them frequently on his travels and found them curious, their tales somewhat hilarious, but generally harmless. He instructed the old man be brought inside and given food and a room for the night.
Wishing to thank his benefactor for the uncommon generosity, Silas was shown to the room where Martha and Nicholas were alone. Upon seeing the damaged frame of the young woman, Silas asked permission to touch her and pray. Nicky nodded and watched as the old preacher approached his wife. Other religious priests had already been through, of course, with the results being empty each time. Nicky had no reason to expect anything different now.
As Silas knelt beside the bed holding Martha’s hand, he muttered soft words in Latin that Nicky could barely hear. When he stood, Silas took Nicky by the hand and led him away from the bed.
“The blessings of your father have been granted,” Silas told him. “Your dear wife will recover well. Much will change, though, and you must be prepared. Your gift of generosity hangs like a weighted chain around your neck. You will see Truth and know it, but you will be punished for what you know. I pray for God to be with you.”
Not understanding, Nicky replied, “May all the gods be with me, father.”
Silas smiled and nodded. “Yes, you may need them all.”
Nicky was unaware of when Silas left the house. He sat, as he always did, in a large chair positioned next to Martha’s bed, dosing involuntarily in and out of sleep. The circles under his eyes had grown deep and dark, his beard surprisingly full, the lines in his face forever deep. What little rest he did get was fitful and restless.
The winter sun had just crested over the horizon, mixed with the bustling sound of activity outside the house as they prepared for the Celtic Yule festival that Martha had introduced to the family. While some had questioned whether now was a decent time to celebrate, Nicky had insisted they go ahead.
“I like the beard,” came a soft voice from the bed. “I think you should keep it.”
Nicky sat up, instantly awake at the sound of his wife’s voice, tears pouring from his eyes. “The gods have blessed me, waking you on this yuletide!” he cried. “I knew you would not leave me.”
Martha laughed. “Of course not, you silly man. You have too much to do for me to leave you. You can’t find your boots if I don’t set them out for you.”
Nicky laughed as loud and heartily as he ever had, so much so that it startled people at the far ends of the village. He gathered his slight wife into his arms and held her close. “I’m never letting you leave me,” he said. “Never.”
An Unwanted Gift
The festival that night was unlike any other. Ale flowed freely, the feast was unlike any the village had ever seen, and Nicholas forgave the debts of all villagers in addition to giving gifts to all the children. By the time the massive yule log began to dim, so much meat had been consumed that Nicky’s massive overcoat was permanently stained red from preparing the animals.
Martha was still very weak but participated more than anyone had expected, regaling the youngsters with tales of vicious creatures who ate children who behaved rudely or stole candy from their parents’ table. Nicky thought her eyes seemed deeper and wiser than they had before and was sure that her tongue had grown sharper while she was ill. An unappreciated grab at her skirts by a drunken guest had resulted in a retort from the young woman threatening to reduce his arm to the “small size of what you pathetically refer to as your manhood.” The banquet hall had roared at the suggestion but no one dared bother Martha the rest of the night.
Not until the last of the guests were leaving the next morning did Nicky begin to notice that a new problem was emerging. At first, he thought it might simply be the leftover effects of the ale causing him to have drunken visions. As they persisted throughout the day, though, the young man began to worry. He was seeing things that were not happening to him, but other people, people he barely knew as well as good friends.
By the end of the day, Nicky felt as though he were going mad. “Check with the other guests,” he instructed a steward, “See if anyone else has become ill. Perhaps the venison we consumed was tainted.” No one admitted to being sick in any way, though, and Nicky’s visions were growing more intense and more numerous.
“I fear I have been poisoned,” he told Martha after dinner that evening, a meal where he barely ate more than half a loaf of bread. “I look into a person’s face and I see not their countenance but their deeds. I look at you and I see you handing out bread to the children by the back gate. I look at Kristofer and see him crying in his chambers. I look at the stable manager and see him kicking at the dogs. I am most surely going mad and worry at what comes next.”
Martha was frightened by this turn of events. Nicky became more reclusive than ever, refusing to greet guests, avoiding business partners, and sending Martha to deal with domestic matters he normally addressed himself.
After four days of complete turmoil, Martha had an idea. “What if your visions are part of the promise from your father?” she asked. “Did not both he and that old preacher say you would know the truth? Perhaps these visions, this insanity, is that Truth. You have not told me anything about myself that did not happen. I know these are not falsehoods.”
Nicky held his head in his hands, afraid to look at his wife. “If these things are true,” he said, “then we live among monsters. The butcher beats his wife three times a day. The blacksmith is poisoning his brother. The Legionnaires are stealing from the taxes and reporting falsely to Rome. And what the priests do to children is unfathomable! How can these things be true?”
Martha held Nicky’s hand as she thought for a moment. She hated seeing her normally jolly husband in such a fit of despair and was quite worried that his fear of poisoning might well be correct. Finally, after long moments, she spoke.
“Let us put your visions to a test,” she said. “Make a list of what you see among those here in our own house. We then call everyone in one at a time. Those who have done good, we reward with a treat, perhaps a sweet confection. Those who have done poorly are dismissed. And if there are those who are indeed evil, we give them to the constable.”
Nicholas recognized the wisdom in his wife’s approach to the matter and agreed. The next day, he sat with parchment and pen, recording all that he saw among those within his household, from the lowest maid to his house manager. As the night grew long, with Martha sitting by his side, he began calling his staff into the room. Many feared him for even though he was a gentle soul Nicky at times had a fearful countenance and this was one of those times. His face was dark and his gaze intense.
As each person passed before him, he looked at his list and asked if they had indeed done the deeds he had seen in his vision. Of course, he did not tell them about the visions for fear they would all think him crazy. From the staff’s perspective, it seemed as though the master had spied upon them, though they had no idea how. Most had done well, though, and he rewarded each accordingly. One kitchen boy had stolen food and feared he might be punished but Nicky knew that he had given the food to his aged mother and forgave him.
For those who had done wrong, though, the conversations were intense. A stable hand had stolen from the saddlebags of a guest. A crop manager had beaten his workers. The house manager had been asking Kristofer for money from the treasury to purchase items but then slipped the funds into his own purse. Each denied the charges against them, and when pressed accused Nicky of spying on them. Each was dismissed and the house manager was given a warning that any further trouble would find him reported to the constable.
Oddly enough, Nicky found that confronting his staff with their deeds helped ease the visions. While they were not completely gone, they were less intrusive. He could walk among others without feeling besieged.
Among the household staff, however, the event had provoked a feeling of fear and suspicion. How could the master have known all the things he had revealed? Surely, he must have spies among them, but if so, who? Everyone had been called to account for their actions, without exception.
As the days progressed, however, the staff noticed that good deeds, especially those charitable toward children, were met with frequent reward. An accidental error was allowed to pass without mention. Only intentional and egregious wrongs warranted punishment. Naturally, they responded accordingly, looking for ways to do good and earn the rewards. The Claus manor quickly became known as one where those in need could find food and refuge at most any hour. By the end of the next month, the whole estate felt more lively and pleasant, and Nicky’s visions were hardly bothersome at all.
A Moment of Trial
As winter melted into spring, life in Arras returned back to normal in most ways. In addition to his business prowess, which seemed more astute than ever, Nicky became known as a most fair judge and arbiter of disputes within the region. Even the local constables would seek out his opinion on criminal matters that were less than clear. Of course, no one other than Martha knew of Nicky’s visions and his ability to see the truth for what it was. The townspeople simply thought him wise beyond his years.
All that came to an abrupt halt, however, late the next autumn. A young maid who had been frequently employed at various households was found murdered in the street, her body beaten and abused. A traveling stranger from the North who had been nearby at the time was arrested and charged with the crime, but he adamantly denied the charge and demanded a hearing in front of the village elders, which included Nicky.
Given that autumn was perhaps the busiest time of year for everyone, no one wanted to be bothered with what appeared to be a very obvious case of murder. There was much grumbling as the men of the village gathered to hear the accused defend himself, most having already made up their minds of his guilt.
For Nicky, though, the matter was not so cut and dry. Not only could he see that the accused man was innocent, he looked around the room and realized that the poor girl had not been killed by one but by three men, quite powerful men, who had each had relations with the young woman. His visions were merciless as the trial proceeded and he grew angry with all that he saw. When it came his time to speak, he had little choice but to set the record straight.
The elders did not take Nicky’s account of events well. As he went around the circle, he revealed not only who had committed the murder but everyone else who had forced themselves upon the young maiden and all the various ways in which she had been harmed. The picture he painted was shocking and horrendous by any account, but as he stood in front of the men who had perpetrated the many crimes, it was enough to set the entire council into a rage.
Acting quickly, and without any actual authority, Nicholas freed the accused man and helped him to escape from the elders’ counsel. Anger in the village seethed as word of Nicky’s charges spread. As had happened with his own staff, men in the village accused Nicky of spying on them and refused to do any business with him or any of his staff. As the day progressed, so did the level of anger and an insistence that Nicky’s apparent spying could not go unanswered. Another elders counsel was called for the next evening.
Kristofer called his elder brother to his room. “I fear for your life tonight,” he warned. “My stewards have met with great hostility throughout the village. No one will allow them into their shop nor take your gold. Should you attend tonight’s counsel, I worry that you might not leave with your head intact.”
“I have done nothing wrong,” Nicky said, feeling defensive. “I have only told them what they already know to be true. It is shame that is fanning their anger.”
“Guilt is a powerful emotion, brother, and many will go to any length to hide what you have laid out into the open.,” Kristofer warned. “Perhaps it would be better for you and Martha to visit her family in Germania for a season. I can manage matters here.”
Nicky considered his brother’s words carefully. Already, he had been having visions of men meeting in secret to plot his capture. He knew the threat to him and his family was real. “The words you say are, of course, true,” Nicky said. “My life is in danger. What I also fear, though, is that should I leave, their anger against the family will be severe and they will do you grave harm.”
“I have already sent for the Legionnaires,” Kristofer replied. “I know you dislike their presence here, but they owe you a great debt and they would look bad in Rome’s eyes were they to allow trouble to start. Unrest like this grows, you know. What might start as a little thing here could soon spill over to riots in Calais or even Metz. They will protect us, but you must go, and go quickly.”
“I must speak first to Martha,” Nicky said.
“I have already spoken with her and she is packing your things,” Kristofer answered. “And I have arranged for my stable steward, Big Gee, to accompany you. He is preparing a carriage with our best horses to take you North as quickly as possible. I will send word when it is safe for you to return.”
Nicky hung his head. “Has it really come to this?” He looked into his brother’s face and saw the pain with which he had made arrangements for their departure. There was no other reasonable choice for the safety of the family. “Should I tell the staff?” he asked.
“Leave that to me,” Kristofer said. “For now, the fewer people who know the better, I believe.”
Nicky nodded in agreement. “Okay then, to Germania we go. I’m sure the yule season there will be exciting.”
Travel to a New Land
Big Gee was a tall, broad-shouldered young man with a simple demeanor and loyal to the Klaus family. When Nicky and Martha arrived at the stable, they found he had covered the open windows of the family carriage with heavy canvas to help keep out the cold and protect them from being recognized. He had removed the family crest from the doors and carefully packed all their belongings in a way to ensure that nothing would slip or fall off during the ride. He also made sure both his broadsword and crossbow were brandished so that any would-be thief might think twice before attacking the carriage.
Martha, impressed by the arrangements, asked the young man, “You have done so much for us, are you sure your family won’t miss you? We can’t promise when we’ll be back.”
Big Gee shrugged. “Don’t know that it matters that much. Big Gee only has the horses. Wherever they are is where I need to be.”
Martha smiled at the young man and climbed into the carriage. “You know the road to Augsburg?”
Big Gee nodded. “Travelers have told me about it. We are well prepared.”
Nicky pulled his big, blood-stained overcoat around him. “We shouldn’t have any trouble this time of year,” he said. “Bandits tend to not like the cold.”
“Snow the bigger problem,” Big Gee answered. “Extra blankets in the carriage.”
Nicky patted the young man on the back. “You are a good man. I’m happy to have you on our trip.”
Big Gee nodded. Despite his size and appearance, he was only sixteen years old and was quite anxious about traveling through the cold. Nicky could tell the young man was of a pure heart, however, and made a mental note to reward the steward handsomely upon their return.
While the trip North would not be without adventure, Big Gee proved quite capable at spotting trouble before it got to them. From fending off wild animals to foiling a thief who snuck into the carriage while they were stopped at an inn, Big Gee proved that he didn’t have to speak much to be a worthwhile protector.
The trio arrived in Augsburg a week in advance of the Yule celebration, however, only to find that bands from the Northeast had raided the town just before harvest, leaving few buildings standing, and few people left to tell the tale. Martha’s family inn had been burned to the ground, her parents missing. They had nowhere to stay.
“There is another inn just a few miles up the road,” Nicky said. “We can stay there until we figure something out.”
That inn, too, had been ravaged by raiders, however, and so had many others along the path. Nicky instructed Big Gee to guide them back toward the coast and from there they secured passage to Brittania for the winter.
Nicky’s penchant for honesty set worse in Brittania than in had in Gaul, however, and by spring they knew they would not be able to stay here, either. The problem was where to go without finding the same problem all over again.
One afternoon, after having found it difficult to even find food for the horses, Big Gee confided to Nicky. “I fear for your safety here. These are dangerous people, full of greed and murder.”
Nicky nodded in agreement. “I have never had visions so dark as what I’ve had here. But where else is there to go? To the East are only Barbarians. To the South are the Romans.
Big Gee moved in close as though sharing a deep secret. “I hear there is another land to the West. Sailors at the port talk about it. Waters are clear. Fishing and hunting are good. People are quiet and keep to themselves.”
“Do you think we could secure passage there?” Nicky asked.
“Dunno,” Big Gee shrugged. “Could ask. They’d want gold. Not sure they are worthy”
“Let me talk with them,” Nicky said. “I’ll know whether they tell the truth.”
Big Gee took Nicky to the pub near the docks where he had met the sailors who talked about the land to the West. Nicky found them to be men of questionable scruples, but loyal to whoever was paying them at the moment. Negotiating passage for the three of them to the new land was not terribly difficult.
Big Gee returned to the inn where they were staying and told Martha the news. He then helped her pack and brought her and the carriage to the docks.
“The carriage cannot go,” Big Gee was told. The young man flushed with anger and was about to argue when Nicky put his hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nicky told him. “I’ve sold the carriage and we can buy a new one when we arrive at our destination.”
Big Gee nodded but was still disturbed by having to sell the carriage. He was not fond of water travel and this trip would be longer than any he had ever had before. He helped secure all of Martha and Nicky’s belongings, then fixed himself a place to sleep in the ship’s hold.
Building A New Home
Two weeks later, they arrived at the strange new port known as Hafnir. Still, several centuries before the Vikings would colonize the land, the people here were short, stocky, and significantly less developed than was the rest of Europe. There were no more than two dozen people in the entire village and of those only three would come out to meet the ship when it arrived.
Nicky was happy to be off the ship. The visions were not as severe as they had been in Britannia but he became increasingly aware of who among the crew could not be trusted. He had stayed quiet most of the trip to avoid trouble, but the sailors sensed his uneasiness around them and regarded him cautiously. This was strictly a fishing and fur port. No one had requested passage here before.
Disembarking the ship, Nicky also found it difficult to communicate with the few people at the port. Their language was nothing he had encountered before. Even the sailors had relied on hand gestures to communicate. He eventually secured transportation and the general idea of where they might stay for a few days until they learned the lay of the land.
On the plus side, the people Nicky encountered were gentle souls. Among them, his visions almost went completely away. They were hard-working people, primarily craftsmen and fishermen. They lived peacefully without any fear of invasion or oppression. Even the Romans had not yet discovered this quiet land.
At the same time, they had no use for Nicky’s gold, having never seen the metal before. Business was conducted via trade, which meant having to create something of value in order to obtain something of value. At first, Nicky was able to secure their loading by helping out around the inn, but it quickly became obvious they would have to come up with some other means of supporting themselves.
The solution came almost by accident. Big Gee was passing his time in the stable with their new horses, carving models for a wagon and a new carriage he planned on building. He had also crafted the model of a sleigh based on what he had seen in the stable. He wasn’t sure exactly how it would work on rough roads but had figured out from other stable workers that it must somehow glide across the snow in bad weather.
Children playing near the stable saw Big Gee’s models and began playing with them. As other children saw the models, they wanted some of their own as well. When Nicky saw what was happening, he suggested that he and Big Gee start a business making models and tops and other small amusements they could then trade for other goods. Big Gee wasn’t sure about the commercial value of something as simple as a small cart but went along with the plan primarily because there wasn’t anything else to do and he rather enjoyed the easy work.
To the surprise of both of them, the trinkets business proved to be extremely popular among the villagers. Nicky was soon able to barter for most anything he needed. Even parents seemed to enjoy watching the little wood tops spin across the floor. Nicky found that small wood statues of animals proved to be extremely popular as well, particularly when they were colored in various pigments and dyes. Puppets fashioned to look like people in the village proved extremely popular as well.
The toy business soon expanded to include cabinetry, chairs, and other carved furniture. Nicky discovered that he only had to show Big Gee how to do something once and from there the young man could quickly create any number of exact replicas so as to make it impossible to tell which was the original. Within a matter of months, they had managed to trade enough of their wares to secure a comfortable home with plenty of food stores. Life here was comfortable and peaceful.
Visitors from outside the village were rare. The ship from Britannia only arrived at port once a year. Occasionally, peddlers from a village even further North would come down with special dried fruits that could not be grown locally. Nicky always found them eager to trade for his baubles and managed to keep a steady supply of the dried fruits which Martha was then able to bake into breads and cakes.
One day, a trader Nicky had encountered before arrived with a list of goods requested from those in his village. By now, Nicky had learned much of the local language and was able to translate the rudimentary symbols into Latin, which he could more easily understand. While nothing they requested was difficult, the volume was substantially more than Nicky immediately had available. He told the trader the best he could do would be to deliver the goods to his village in a few weeks.
The trader left a healthy supply of dried fruit as a guarantee of payment and left, having given Big Gee detailed instructions on how to find the village. The two men set to work on the order while Martha minded the store and kept the ovens busy with breads and sweetened meats. Theirs was easily the most popular home in the village. Even standing outdoors gifted one with delicious fragrances and hearty aromas.
Sleigh Bells In The Snow
Nicky and Big Gee were almost finished with the massive order when the first snowstorm of the winter hit the village. While they had known snow in Gaul and Germania, none of them had ever seen the depths that fell on the village over the next several days. Big Gee quickly understood why the sleighs he had seen were so important and immediately set about fashioning one that would be large enough to transport all the toys they needed to deliver to the Northern village of Alizkjer. The people of Hafnir were amazed at something so large that, had it not been for the large pile of toys, could have held the entire population of the village.
Big Gee had also built a special harness to connect the four horses to the sleigh, having melted down some of the now-useless gold coins to create bells that jingled as the horses pranced. The young man hoped that the noise would be sufficient to ward off any wild animals that they might encounter. While they had not seen much more than elk and caribou, rumors of wolf-like creatures filled local fables and Big Gee wasn’t going to take any chances that one of them might be based on fact.
Martha had sewn together several caribou pelts to create a large sack that secured the large supply of toys. She had also taken the time to line Nicky’s and Big Gee’s overcoats with wool from local mountain sheep. Her own cape was woven from the same wool, making it incredibly warm and rather festive looking.
The trio loaded their wares, bade farewell to their neighbors and headed North toward Alizkjer. The bells jingled loud as the horses pranced off across the snow and Big Gee was careful to look for signs of drifts and soft snow as they attempted to stay on what had once been the only road out of the village.
There were no weather forecasts back in the early fourth century. There was no way for the Klaus’s and Big Gee to know that a most horrible storm was bearing down upon them. Big Gee fought as hard as he could to keep the sleigh moving forward, even when the snow had covered his face to the point he had only the jingle of the bells on the harness to let him know the horses were still moving. Nicky and Martha huddled together against the wind. Both had been through blizzards before, but nothing as relentlessly brutal as this storm. Despite all the warmth of their coats and blankets, it was not enough to protect them from the severity of the storm that engulfed them.
I cannot tell you from this point how much time passed. I can tell you that the village of Alizkjer was completely lost and no record of it has ever been found. The entire land was engulfed by snow and ice and would not see new villages settled until the Vikings arrived some 400 years later.
For Nicky, Martha, and Big Gee, it was like easing into a very cold sleep. They were never aware that the sleigh had stopped moving or that the horses had broken free of their harness. Sleep engulfed them, holding them in this frozen state until help arrived.
Help was not something that is easily explained, however. Nicky was the first to be awakened by the small, child-like face, its cheeks bright red from the cold, eyes sparkling like the snow glistening in the sunlight. The little person had dug a rather large excavation to reach the sleigh at all, several times its own height. As he woke, Nicky was amazed at how strong the little creature seemed to be. Another of the small creatures soon joined the first, gently waking Martha and then Big Gee.
“How did you find us?” Nicky asked.
The little ones quickly motioned for quiet, gesturing at the snow looming around them. They understood that the whole thing could come crashing in on them at any moment should too much sound or the wrong movement trigger an avalanche. Carefully, and with blinding speed, the pair removed the snow and ice completely from around the sleigh. Then, with the little ones standing on either side of the runners, a most amazing thing happened: the sleigh began to move!
Big Gee rubbed his eyes, sure that the ice must have blinded him from being able to see the horses. He could hear the bells, but there was nothing in the harnesses pulling them.
Nicky and Martha were wide-eyed as the sleigh slid gently out of the tunnel and into the open air. Still snuggled together, because they had no reason not to be, the couple looked at each other, their minds full of shared questions, such as who were these little people, how did they survive under so much snow, and could they still get their load of toys to Alizkjer on time? Even after they were safely clear of the walls of the snow tunnel, though, the little people motioned for them all to be very quiet.
The little people were dressed as what Nicky and Martha assumed were one male and one female. They were each very child-like in their size and their motions, but obviously very learned and skilled in the ways of the people of the North and getting around the snow. They were so light that they did not even leave footprints in the snow.
The male of the two picked up a handful of snow and tossed it into the air. As the flakes floated away, he motioned toward nearby trees. As the female headed toward the massive pines, the male motioned again for them to stay quiet and not move before joining her.
Watching the little ones disappear into the trees, Big Gee looked desperately back at Nicky and Martha, trying to communicate his questions in hand gestures so overdone as to make Nicky start to laugh. Martha reminded him of the need to be quiet and Nicky grabbed Big Gee’s hands so the young man would not continue. The look in Nicky’s eyes was enough to calm Big Gee for now.
When the little people returned, they came riding on the backs of two large animals that somewhat resembled elk but with a noticeably different antler spread. Two others follow closely behind. The little ones brought the massive beasts to the sleigh and fitted them into the harness that had been designed for the horses. As though aware that his passengers were all watching with their mouths open, the small male turned and said in a form of Gaelic, “Rangifer tarandus,” as though he expected them to know what that meant.
The two little people sat on either side of Big Gee, each taking one-half of the reins, and with a snap started moving forward, gliding rapidly across the snow and gathering speed with each gallop. Then, with a whistle from the small female, the sleigh tilted back and the entire rig, even with its heavy cargo of toys, took to the air and began to fly!
Big Gee screamed in panic. Martha held desperately to her seat. Nicky, however, found the whole adventure amusing and let out with a large laugh that echoed below them. The two little people looked at each other and smiled.
Welcome To The North Pole
Zipping high above the earth allowed Nicky to see something that no one else would propose for several centuries, and even then with the considerable debate: the earth was round, not flat. As the sleigh followed the curve of the horizon Northward, cold wind whipping at their coats, Big Gee still whimpering in fear, Nicky leaned over and gave Martha a kiss on the cheek, letting her know everything would be okay.
Several minutes passed before the sleigh began angling downward toward a large clearing completely covered in snow. There was a slight moment of terror when it appeared that the sleigh might crash into the earth, causing Big Gee to let out a scream, but the small people quickly leveled off and brought the rig in smoothly.
Big Gee was the first one to hop down from the sleigh, happy to be back on the ground. He backed away from the little people and the large beasts pulling it, afraid of what might happen next.
Nicky helped Martha from the sleigh, then turned and kneeled down to address their rescuers. “I don’t know if you can understand me,” he said, “but we want to thank you for rescuing us. What can we do to repay your kindness?”
The little people looked at each other, then the male of the pair said in perfect Latin, “Yes, we understand you quite well. We understand and can speak all the human languages. My name is Elf Grindl and my partner is Elf Tipitina. We are happy to welcome you to our home.”
Nicky looked around at the vast expanse of nothing but snow. “Elves, you say? Our legends have spoken of such. I never expected to meet such wonder, though. Do you make your home in the snow itself?
Grindl giggled. “No, but I do have to resize things a bit for you to see it.” With that, the elf waved his hand and a full village raised up from the snow, complete with candles burning in the windows.
Tipitina took Martha by the hand, speaking in the Germanic dialect of Martha’s home in Augsburg. “Let me show you to your new home,” she said. “We’ve been looking forward to your arrival. Hopefully, we have everything to your liking.”
Nicky and Big Gee followed Tipitina as Grindl unhitched the hooved beasts and set them free. They entered into a large home with a large fireplace, logs burning brightly, with plenty of oil lamps around the room for additional light. The furniture was plush and upholstered in a fashion the humans had never seen. In the kitchen was a massive stove on which a kettle had just started steaming with hot water. The table was set with what could only be described as a feast of meats, fruits, breads, and other foods the humans had never seen.
Grindl tugged on the hem of Nicky’s coat. “If I may take your coat, good sir, I’m sure you are famished from your long trip.”
Nicky removed his coat and tried to not cover the elf completely. With a blink, the coat was hanging on a peg by the door. “Speaking of trip, we seem to be quite far from Alizkjer. When do you think we might be able to get them their goods?”
Grindl looked at Tipitina, their happy countenance fading for a moment. “Alizkjer and Hafnir are no more, I fear. There were too many for us to save. History will not know they ever existed.”
Nicky and Martha looked at each other, shocked by this news. A tear slipped down the gentle man’s cheek. “You could not have saved any of them? Not even a child?”
Grindl shook his head. “We almost never found you. Many seasons were spent searching for anyone. Our prophecies foretold of one who would emerge from the snow to guide us. Had we not believed in that prophecy so heavily, we would have stopped searching long ago.”
“Wait, are you saying we’re actually dead?” Big Gee asked, touching his body to see if he were possibly imagining the whole experience.
“No, silly,” Tipitina said between giggles. “The three of you can never die. You were blessed. Your breath was merely frozen for a time. A little bit of cocoa was enough to wake you.”
“Cocoa? What’s that?” Big Gee asked.
Tipitina giggled again and gave the three humans large mugs of the warm liquid. “Go ahead and drink. You need the strength.”
Nicky took a sip from his mug and declared, “Ho, ho! This is a most amazing drink! Far better than any mead or ale I have ever tasted!”
The elves guided them to the table. “Please, eat to your fill. I’m sure you will have many questions for us later. There are beds prepared should you desire rest and for you, Big Gee, we have prepared your own house with tools for you to create more carvings. We do love your work.”
“My own house?” Big Gee questioned? “No one in my family has ever owned their own house!”
Both elves giggled before Grindl spoke. “You have proven yourself faithful to the Klaus family,” he explained. “Their blessing is your blessing. Their riches are your riches.”
Nicky still could not get his massive pack of toys off his mind. “This is all so wonderful, and your generosity is so very gracious. What of all we have made, though? Has our work been in vain? And what of our families? Will we not see them again?”
Grindl guided the big man to a large, carved and upholstered chair at the head of the table. “Your work has never been in vain,” he explained. “You have many questions that are understandable. Tomorrow we begin planning. Your work here will be greater than anything you have ever done. There is a dark age coming to humans, a time of unspeakable evil and loss. The people who are good need hope and together, we will help you give them that hope. All of them.”
“And those who are not good?”Nicky asked.
“We have other plans for them,” Tipitina said. “They will get what they justly deserve.”
“All the rest we will discuss with morning’s light,” Grindl said. “There are some modifications we would suggest to the sleigh, Big Gee needs to meet our reindeer friends, and Mrs. Klaus, there are many waiting to see how you bake such delicious breads. We are as anxious as little children.”
The Klaus family settled down at the table and enjoyed their meal, hardly aware of the incredible adventure that had just begin.
One very tired Klaus
Gallery
Not all the images are included in the story above. Click on any of the thumbnails below to see the full gallery.
[tg_masonry_gallery gallery_id=”14373″ layout=”contain” columns=”3″]
[dropcap]People in small towns were largely disconnected from World War I in many ways. News from Europe traveled slowly to rural parts of the country. The United States’ involvement was late enough and brief enough that most of those who served returned home as decorated heroes, the stars of small-town Fourth of July parades. They even formed their own clubs, such as the American Legion, and the Veterans of Foreign Wars. This gave the men a place to sit and drink and make-up battle stories where everyone was pinned down and the least likely of the group saved them all. [/dropcap]
[dropcap]By the 1970s, small towns were beginning to realize that they were in danger and struggled to hold on to their identities, and often failed. Small manufacturers were gobbled up by larger corporations and the jobs moved outside the US. The economics of farming changed and the family farm grew less viable. Corporate farming companies made attractive offers and bought up thousands of acres. Farmers, chasing whatever jobs they could get, moved to larger and larger cities.[/dropcap]
[dropcap]I grew up in small towns and, like most of those from my generation, couldn’t wait to be gone, to make my mark on the world and enjoy the opportunities of the big city. I’ve never regretted moving away and have no plans to return for any length of time.[/dropcap]
Stores Closing, Economy Crumbling, and Democracy Failing
Maintaining a “free” country requires some often difficult work
[dropcap]Mowing the lawn is the one summer chore I detest the most. I’m not a huge fan of any summer chore, mind you, because, being summer, they almost always entail excessive perspiration, dehydration, and exhaustion. Lawn mowing is worst, though, because it kicks up dust and pollen, makes a mess of my shoes and pants cuff, and has to be repeated far too frequently, depending on the amount of rainfall. I can think of more pleasurable ways to spend my summer.[/dropcap]
I have to admit, though, once I’m done I like the way the lawn looks. When I step to the kitchen window and look out first thing in the morning, I like seeing the bright green grass neatly trimmed; it makes me feel good about myself and my life. That image, once lodged in my mind, creates this sort of fantasy that mowing the lawn isn’t really all that bad. I do have help, after all, and unlike a golf course, we don’t have to mow daily. Our lawn is fairly flat, no steep grades like some have. If I were asked, I would likely recommend lawn mowing to almost everyone and I’d illustrate it with a picture like the one above. On an ultimately superficial level, lawn mowing is sexy, desirable, and one might claim it is a gesture of noble citizenship.
So why do I hate mowing the lawn so much?
Because the reality of the act is so very different from the fantasy. I’m not a 20-something attractive young woman out getting a tan while pushing the mower across the lawn. I’m a fat, diabetic old man who has to guard his exposure to the sun to avoid the skin cancer that ultimately killed my father. How mowing the lawn looks and feels holds little resemblance to the fantasy the picture creates.
Such deceptions, whether intentional, accidental or born of ignorance, are not limited to lawn mowing. We have created a society based on more than two thousand years of longing for a fantasy that doesn’t exist. From our form of government to our economic system of Capitalism to the social underpinnings of the Internet, we have bought into an idea that not only doesn’t exist but, given the basic fallacies of humanity, cannot exist without radically altering who and what we are. As a result, these institutions we’ve created are repeatedly failing. We try desperately to cling to them, insisting that they are what is best for our world and our planet, but ignoring the harm they are doing.
Conceptually, a “level playing field” is a sports reference from the early part of the 20th century. Football teams were accused of creating a home-field advantage over their rivals by building up one portion of the field over another. The team could then use that tilt to their advantage in calling and running plays. The move, though never actually documented, was considered very unsportsmanlike and eventually, regulations were enacted to regulate field construction.
Underlying the fairness of the issue, however, was a fact that outdoor sports fields cannot be perfectly flat. Flat fields hold water. College and professional sports teams pay engineers hundreds of thousands of dollars to construct fields that are within the stated guidelines while facilitating enough slope to drain the field of rainwater. Even with all the modern advantages available to engineers, there remain many places where standing water has the ability to affect the outcome of a game.
A level playing field is not good. While it sounds as though it creates a situation that is fair to both sides, a level field doesn’t drain water, creating an atmosphere both difficult and dangerous for the players. Maintenance is more difficult as soil sours in standing water and dying grass has to be continually replaced. A flat, soft field, even without standing water, results in more divots of greater depth during play, resulting in a greater frequency of bone and muscle injuries.
Here, among these ancient philosophers, a “good” person was defined by four virtues: Courage, Temperance, Justice, and Wisdom. While those qualities still sound desirable, our modern definitions would clash with those held by Socrates and Plato. They were looking at people who could put a lid on their impulses, were responsible for their debts, honest in their dealings, and respectful of knowledge. Such were the qualities expected not only from the ruling class but from general society as well.
From this definition of good people arose the concept of a democratic republic, a capitalistic economy, and a stable, well-educated society. Within these constructs, life would be fair for “good” people. Of course, only men were included in that original thought, but at least there was a path of progression and development built into the system. Even slaves and immigrants could eventually become property owners and members of the Assembly. While we look backward and see glaring omissions of civil rights, there has always been an underlying desire for inclusiveness and equality. Even among Socratic thinkers the concept of a level playing field has always been present and shapes how we build our civilization.
Giving birth to equality requires intensive labor
[dropcap]Philosophical parallels between attempting to advance civilization and going through the challenges of giving birth are unmistakable. No, we didn’t actually ask a pregnant woman to mow the lawn. The photos were taken for illustration purposes only. The difficulties should be obvious, though. One could argue that, since that period of philosophical conception in Ancient Greece, humanity has gone through at least four to six periods of “birth,” creating civilizations that profoundly shift the manner in which we live and attempt to achieve equity and stability in government, economics, and society in general. [Whether one dates the Contemporary Age with the French Revolution or the Industrial Revolution is a matter of deeper academic instruction.] Each iteration has sought to make life better on one level or another, to open doors to greater civility and equality. Yet, each has failed and this current child we’re nursing doesn’t appear to be in the best of health.[/dropcap]
Our current situation comes from a bit more than 225-years gestating progression. Our sense of government being a representative democracy comes from the confluence of both the American and French Revolutions. Argue what you will, the two efforts together brought to Western Civilization a newly refined concept of what constitutes a fair and equitable government. The Industrial Revolution, occurring practically at the same time, reshaped our concept of Capitalism and economy. Here, the roots of the American Dream take hold, where anyone can own a business, buy a house, and have the opportunity to be successful. Society, of course, is a more fluid entity and we have to look at the Information Age and specifically the dawn of public access to the Internet in 1991 as the latest attempt to redefine our social construct to create a system more balanced and equitable.
Each of these movements has brought with it the promise of a “level playing field.” A representational democracy is supposed to give everyone an equal voice in how they are governed. Capitalism is supposed to create economic opportunity for everyone. The Internet promises to give everyone a chance to have their voice heard. Each system proposes to remove previous barriers that kept certain groups of people from being included. The concepts, in of themselves, are noble and their intentions are admirable.
What we find, though, is that actually trying to deliver on those promises is painful, difficult, and strained. We have spent over 225 years attempting to define what a person is. Even now, there are those among us who would prefer to not include women, people of color, those who were born outside our borders, those whose sexual orientation is different from their own, and those whose religious beliefs do not align with the generally accepted mythology. The fact that people of minority status of any kind must still yell, scream, picket, and demonstrate in an effort to secure their basic rights shows the severe deficiencies in the political system.
Economics has not fared any better. The gap between the super-elite rich and the poor has never been wider since the Middle Ages. The United States set new records for the wealth gap in 2014, and the massive gulf, both in terms of reserved value and economic opportunity, is at its widest for minorities. Over the past 50 or so years, it has been hoped that globalization might help distribute wealth so as to assist those third world countries struggling to cover basic needs for their populations. However, even some of globalization’s most ardent supporters are now questioning whether that approach is helping or hurting struggling economies. A Harvard University study done last year shows that a majority of those under the age of 30 no longer believe that Capitalism is the best economic system for moving forward.
In the beginning, such an equitable opportunity was lauded as being a great thing for society. Consider for a moment these statements made during the early days of the Internet:
Gibson, William
What you propose here, ladies and gentlemen, may well represent nothing less than this nation’s last and best hope of providing something like a level socio-economic playing field for a true majority of its citizens.
Lord, Rob
The Internet is going to bring a flat playing field to music. The difference between a major and an independent label will begin not to matter anymore. The smallest independent label could have just as wide a distribution – even wider internationally – as the largest major.
Boggs, Timothy
To some extent, it’s a “Field of Dreams” business plan – if we build it, they’ll come.
Berners-Lee, Tim
It could be that some scientific field will be the first to be sufficiently disciplined to input its data not just as cool hypertext, but in a machine-readable form, allowing programs to wander the globe analyzing and surmising … The knowledge-engineering field has to learn how to be global, and the Web has to learn knowledge engineering, but in the end this might be a way in which again the scientific field leads the world into something very powerful, and a new paradigm shift.
Turkle, Sherry
Watch for a nascent culture of virtual reality that underscores the ways in which we construct gender and the self, the ways in which we become what we play, argue about, and build. And watch for a culture that leaves new space for the idea that he or she who plays, argues, and builds might be doing so with a machine.
That’s an incredible amount of promise and opportunity, isn’t it? The optimism was so great that we could have listed hundreds of similar quotes. Some 20-plus years later, however, we’re trying to figure out how to patch the holes that have dimmed the promise of this great social hope. Contrasting the optimistic quotes above are the following touches of reality:
The scenario grows worse from there. A professor at Purdue University, Sorin Adam Matei, finds evidence that social media was instrumental in the election of the 45th president of the United States. Another study shows 42 percent of kids have been bullied while online with one in four being verbally attacked more than once.
I know, I know, no one likes the concept of restraining freedom. What we have to remember, though, is that as a culture our 225-year history renders us at about the development level of a three-year-old. Stop and think a moment about how much freedom one gives a pre-school three-year-old. The brighter, more inquisitive, more active, and more intelligent the child is, the more carefully its parents must watch after it. Left on its own, allowed to do whatever it pleases, the child will almost certainly hurt itself, or get hurt, just by exercising its natural curiosity. A three-year-old has no concept of temperance. If they see something that looks interesting, they go after it, even if that means crossing a busy street.
The United States is that three-year-old. Bright, energetic, full of ideas, promise, and potential, we have not yet learned to control our impulses, ponder the consequences before acting, or evaluate our desires in relation to the needs of others. We are capable of doing many good and wonderful things with the proper guidance, but we also have the ability to be destructive, hurtful, and mean when left unchecked. To return to our earlier metaphors, the lawn isn’t getting mowed and the weeds have taken over. Our level playing field has become a swamp in which nothing useful can live. We need to take some serious actions.
Mowing the lawn, pulling up weeds
[dropcap]If I’m not going to mow the lawn myself, and I try to get out of it every chance possible, I have to find someone to take my place, to do the work on my behalf; a representative, if you will. I have choices regarding who mows my lawn. I can choose someone who looks good but has no practical experience and enjoy the aesthetic of them walking back and forth across the grass while ignoring the sloppy job they’re doing and the places being missed. I might choose someone who is willing and can use the money but isn’t ideally suited for the job for one reason or another. I’ll be sure to call 911 quickly when they collapse from heat exhaustion. A third choice is to select someone who has mown lawns like mine before, someone who can handle the heat and is very good at listening to exactly how I want the grass to be cut. All three are options every time the grass grows too high. My choice not only determines how well the job will be done but demonstrates the degree to which I care about my lawn.[/dropcap]
Being a citizen in this country of ours isn’t that much different. With each election, we have choices to make as to who will represent us in maintaining the broad lawn that is our system of laws and agencies. The work is not for the faint of heart. Sure, we can elect someone who looks good, but they’re likely to be sloppy, miss things, and not pay much attention to what actually needs to be done. We might elect someone whose intentions are noble but ineffective in their participation and unable to complete the tasks. Rarer are those who actually understand, know what the job entails, are effective in getting the work done, and do it precisely to our expectations.
Finding those people who can do the job well requires intense vetting, looking below the surface, rather than running with the first person who volunteers for the job. We have to actually stop what we’re doing for a minute and pay attention, participate in the conversation, and make our desires well known from the very outset. We cannot sit rocking back and forth on the front porch, thinking that we can point out errors in one corner when the representative has moved on to something else. Having a representative doesn’t mean we get to completely ignore what’s going on in our own yard. We have to be involved.
We have neglected our duty. In 2012, 51 million Americans eligible to vote were not even registered. As our population has grown, participation in the electoral process has declined. 62.77% of eligible registered voters cast votes in the 1960 presidential election. That number has steadily declined each presidential election since. Only 54.87% voted in the 2012 election and the 2016 election numbers were only slightly higher (source). As a result of our continued negligence, we are now faced with a mess that requires a massive overhaul if we are to save what we have worked so hard to obtain.
So it is with improving our country—difficult and likely painful. We’ve grown so accustomed to the weeds we’ve begun to think of them as necessary. The thought of removing them and filling in the holes is frightening and certainly not popular. I fully expect objections beginning with the phrase, “I have a right to …” to be bandied around with some fervor. Yet, if we are going to make a difference, if we are going to create a civilization that endures and is not more than a tiny blot in the eternal timeline, we need to do some weeding.
Let us start by reconsidering and perhaps redefining what freedom is. Freedom is not, never has been, cannot ever be the ability to do what one wants regardless of the consequences. Freedom is the liberty to live responsibly, self-identifying who and what one wants to be, pursuing those goals, and engaging in political, business, and social relationships to the benefit of all, directly avoiding any intentional harm or misrepresentation.
We need to ask ourselves, “What is Justice?” Plato, speaking for Socrates, is frequently quoted as saying that justice is “minding your own business.” While that sounds attractive to contemporary Libertarians, there is much lost in translation both in terms of language and culture. He is not saying that everyone should be free to do whatever the hell they want. Rather, that one must first recognize, self-identify if you will, who and what one is. If one is a musician, then justice is found in the unfettered ability to be that musician. If one contains the capacity to love, then justice is the ability to love as one will, who one will, without any hindrance.
Those concepts of Justice and Injustice carry over to economics as well. Justice is selling a quality product at a fair price rather than raising the price to the limits of what the market might be forced to endure. Justice is paying one’s employees a living wage as opposed to utilizing minimum wage simply because the law allows such. Injustice is promoting a product one knows doesn’t work for the purpose of fleecing the gullible. Injustice is loaning a person money for a house then raising the interest rate beyond their ability to pay.
Beyond presumptive philosophical bantering, though, practical change is necessary if any metaphorical yard word is going to get done. Sitting around talking about how much we hate the weeds doesn’t do anything to stop the weeds from growing. We must get up and actually do something about the situation.
A cooperative effort toward a common goal
[dropcap]Someone could probably pay me to write books covering the details of how to improve upon the current structure of things and perhaps someone should. I’m happy to accept volunteers toward that action. In the mean time, however, please allow me to outline what has to happen to get us off this immoral lump that promotes injustice in the name of freedom. Mind you, I’m not likely to make any friends if I still have any at this point. We must abandon some concepts that are deeply rooted throughout our culture. Survival of our civilization and perhaps even that of our species requires us to take dramatic action.[/dropcap]
Education must become the supreme priority
Much of what is failing America, and indeed the world, can be attributed to a rise in ignorance. We have devalued education on a real level despite verbal acclamations of its importance. We have failed to put our money where our mouth is, in the most literal sense. As a result, we have allowed for the unchecked growth of an anti-academic weed to the point that a “majority of Republicans and Republican-leaning independents (58%) now say that colleges and universities have a negative effect on the country.”
Stratford Caldecott, the late editor and writer, summed up our current situation quite well:
“Today, in a world with instant access to Google, we rely on the electronic web to supply everything we need, from historical facts to word definitions and spellings as well as extended quotations. All of us who use a computer are aware of the shock of inner poverty that we suddenly feel when deprived (by a virus or other disaster) of our mental crutches even just for a day or a week. Plato is right: memory has been stripped from us, and all we possess is an external reminder of what we have lost, enabling us to pretend to a wisdom and an inner life we no longer possess in ourselves.”
― Stratford Caldecott, Beauty in the Word: Rethinking the Foundations of Education
We have reached a point where there is actually a surge in the number of people who believe that the earth is flat. If our educational system was as effective as we would like for it to be, such nonsense wouldn’t be possible. We have not only failed our children for multiple generations, but we have committed an injustice by failing to provide people with the basic skills that they need to exist and live good lives.
Our very understanding of what composes education and how it is administered needs a complete workover. Specifically (and each of these points could be a chapter in that aforementioned book), the following adjustments need to be made unilaterally not just within the United States but across the world.
Anything received into the mind at that age is likely to become indelible and unalterable, and therefore it is most important that the tales which the young first hear should be models of virtuous thoughts….”
If we cannot commit to a full and complete overhaul of the world’s educational system, then there is little need in proceeding any further. Without sufficient education, we do not have the intellectual capital to adequately improve our culture on other levels. We suffer now with the weeds of ignorance choking out the voice of reason at the highest levels of government. The world’s greatest deficit is in sustaining wisdom. We have little choice but to address this situation with the same panic and alarm we would a fire in our own house. Our need is critical and there is no viable argument allowing delay.
Truth must be restored to the center of justice
“Strange times are these in which we live when old and young are taught falsehoods in school. And the person that dares to tell the truth is called at once a lunatic and fool”
If we are to teach, then we must teach Truth. If we are to teach Truth, then we must also live by Truth. There can be no compromise against the Truth nor can we allow it to become diluted by irrational thought. The necessity for Truth precedes any claim to freedom of speech for speech that does not contain Truth is itself an injustice and cannot be tolerated in a just and reasonable society.
Here is where many part ways with my reasoning and you should know that I understand the difficulties of what I am about to advocate. I have wrestled myself with this concept because we have been taught from the very foundation of our beginnings that the freedom of speech exceeds all. Tyranny flourishes where people are prevented from expressing themselves, specifically from questioning those in positions of leadership and authority. Surely, there can be no abridgment of the right to challenge dictators, fascists, and oligarchs.
Yet, anytime one makes a challenge based upon falsehood, misinformation, or in a deliberate attempt to obfuscate fact one commits an injustice against society. Lying cannot be protected speech. Words containing events that did not happen and quotations by people who never existed must be clearly identified either as works of fiction, satire, or parody if they are to avoid doing harm, even though that harm might be unintentional or unforeseeable.
Deliberate lies made in an attempt to hide the Truth are the most egregious forms of speech and cannot claim protection. There are no excuses, no justifications, and no defense for such mistruths; they have no legitimate place in society and no society based on justice can exist as long as lies are tolerated and fail to be punished. Lying cannot help but be the primary exception to any guarantee of free speech because lies themselves are the antithesis of free speech.
Curtailing free speech in any form on any level is a very frightening concept. One would think, with good reason and sufficient history as an example. that limits to speech lead to enslavement. Such philosophies are not incorrect. However, precipitating and tolerating lies have the exact same effect and outcome. What just person among us would have imagined a mere twelve months ago that foreign entities would collude to spread false information for the express purpose, with malice aforethought, to effect the outcome of a presidential election? Yet, current evidence suggests, if not absolutely proves, that such crimes were perpetrated in both the US and French elections.
Thomas Jefferson and the other framers of the United States Constitution could not have possibly envisioned a day wherein false information could so easily be distributed and given credence next to legitimate and factual news. Libel and slander laws, as weak as they are, address only matters of personal defamation and differ dramatically between the United States and other countries. More difficult to extinguish are lies that would seem to have no direct target but which do harm to the greater population in general, such as the anti-vaccination movement that perpetuates proven misinformation regarding the effectiveness and safety of inoculations. Truth in advertising laws, managed in the United States by the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) address deliberate deception on the part of companies selling a product but have little sway when someone on the Internet makes an unproven claim about essential oils curing various illness. Instead, it is left up to the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to determine whether such claims are true, and resources for chasing down such claims are severely limited.
If we are to re-establish Truth as the basis for justice and society, we must brace ourselves for severe actions that are likely to prove unpopular during the interim transition. Our current culture is too steeped in greed and too thirsty for power to let it regulate its own way back toward Truth. We must give our society a hard and definitive push with the following steps.
Throughout this crackdown on false information, we must be careful and deliberate to maintain the ability to honestly and effectively challenge what is currently held to be true. What is perceived to be fact is not always fact as our understanding of nature, science, physics, and humanity evolves. No one should be punished, demeaned or in any other way disparaged for rightfully positing a challenge or justifiable alternative view or reconsideration of generally accepted authority. However, such challenges should come with a preponderance of evidence as established through the scientific method or the thorough documentation of fact. Hearsay, the personal experience of a single individual, nor anecdotal evidence is not sufficient previously stated and generally accepted facts.
While these steps are unquestionably severe and definitely deserve considerable debate, dishonesty is a weed no culture can survive. Corruption and injustice are inevitable anywhere dishonesty is allowed to survive. Dishonest voices do not have an inalienable right to be heard. Intentionally making statements that do harm to others, whether the harm is anticipated or not, cannot be tolerated by a just society. As much as we value free speech, we must limit that liberty to those expressions that are honest and truthful if we are to live good and free lives. I see no other workable alternative.
Everyone must be able to live equitably
If one asks a conservative, or for that matter, most so-called “progressives,” they will adamantly defend Capitalism as the only real game in town. Even the 2016 Democratic presidential nominee, Hillary Clinton, ferociously defended Capitalism during her first debate with Senator Bernie Sanders. Capitalism has millions of apologists out there willing to overlook its faults. At a superficial level, Capitalism paints a pretty picture of one’s ability to achieve wealth and participate in an economic system that rewards hard work.
Looking more deeply, however, one finds that Capitalism is ultimately like a dandelion: children may refer to them as flowers and enjoy the gaiety of blowing the white puffs and watching them float through the air whereas adults, being responsible for actually taking care of the yard, see them as weeds that must be removed if any real grass has a chance of growing. Like dandelions, Capitalism spreads quickly and easily with practically no effort, but in doing so it brings with it a rash of undesirable consequences that have been well documented over the past 150 years.
While Karl Marx’s criticism of Capitalism is perhaps the best known, there’s little question that he missed the mark when it comes to providing a solution. We watched as the former Soviet Union attempted to implement Marx’s economic reform and the resulting disaster is something from which Eastern Europe still struggles to escape.
On a more contemporary level, however, we have seminal works from scholars such as David Schweickart, whose concepts of Economic Democracy have been stirring in sociological circles since 1996, the late Elinor Olstrum’s Nobel Prize-winning studies on the economic benefits of what is referred to as “the Commons,” and Erik Olin Wright, whose surprisingly popular book, Envisioning Real Utopias, was a shocking best seller in 2010. For all the things I don’t have time nor space to include in this medium I strongly recommend reading not only the linked books but other titles by these authors as well.
For his part, Dr. Wright lists ten criticisms of Capitalism that resonate perhaps more strongly now, nearly a decade after he wrote them. Once he made us painfully aware of the systemic failures happening under our noses, we became shockingly more aware of those problems and have seen an increase in resistance to and demonstrations against these issues. Dr. Wright is, unsurprisingly, an academic and his list takes a very academic tone. Rather than just doing the old copy and paste routine, let’s see if I can translate those criticisms into the vernacular. Parenthetical comments are mine.
What should frighten us is that Dr. Wright’s list is far from being exhaustive. The problems caused by continued rampant Capitalism are far reaching and increasingly troublesome. Capitalism supports the wealthiest one percent of the population in their desire to increase their wealth. Capitalism views the poor as blights on civilization.
Our long standing relationship with Capitalism stems from a fundamental belief in Western Philosophy that individual rights dominate over social responsibility. I am more important than anything and everything else. Most recently, we have seen this in the rise of Libertarian politics through the so-called “Tea Party” wing of the GOP. Almost to a person, proponents of that philosophy fuss and fume about their tax dollars going for things that don’t directly benefit them in proportion to the amount of tax they pay. They lack any fundamental sense of social responsibility and see no reason for them to participate in programs and/or initiatives that assist anyone else.
In a word, Western Philosophy is historically selfish. Capitalism encodes that selfishness and then grows it with a heaping helping of greed.
I do not propose nor endorse an economic revolution, mind you. While the need for change is severe, much of that change must be organic in nature or else it cannot be effective. For example, the Commons works well only when the people involved thoroughly understand the concept of the Commons and work together in its management. Until a greater level of education is achieved, the adaptation of the Commons is necessarily limited. One cannot force wholesale economic change onto a population; again, the former Soviet Union proved that fact alarmingly well. Progressive change is necessary.
What I am about to suggest is likely to frustrate those who want more detail. Once more, a book would be a better medium for relating such a volume of information. I fear that the next list might well raise more questions than it does provide answers. Visiting the links provided should help fill in the gaps to some degree.
For people to live equitably, to thrive, to excel, to realize their potential both on a personal level and in relation to society, they need an economy that works for them, not against them. Every aspect of life, both economic and political, must be designed to provide equal access, equal opportunity, and support equal participation. I firmly believe the following are among the most critical steps to take in achieving that goal.
Phone and internet services are more challenging as they require vast networks with constant maintenance and upgrade costs. That doesn’t mean they should be for-profit corporations, though. They still have an obligation to make their services available without pushing the limits of market tolerance. Communication is an absolute necessity. Many employers only accept online applications, requiring both access to the internet and the ability to accept a phone call before an interview can even happen. Current IRS code holds over 30 different non-profit categories, including farming cooperatives. Phone and internet providers could potentially fit under the 501(c)(5) or could warrant an extension of the IRS code to create a new category. Either way, pushing prices for basic services to the limits of consumer tolerance is ultimately unjust and marginalizes millions of people.
Healthcare is a multifaceted topic that appears on this list more than once. There’s no question that healthcare is a necessity. Our ability to maintain a viable level of wellness is critical to our ability to exist in society. So why, then, are some of those most expensive and unreasonable pricing structures ever imagined attached to this critical need? That anyone would profit off the illness and disability of others is humane. Hospitals, clinics, pharmaceutical concerns of every kind, and even pharmacies themselves must have the profit requirement removed if they are to genuinely operate in the best interest of the general population.
I realize I’m just skimming the surface of this topic. Books already exist exploring the alternatives for each industry. The time has come to start taking those concepts much more seriously.
What is important in this conversation is that we not look at the matter in terms of simply patching the existing structures. We need to replace and update everything from sewer systems to airports, transit systems, dams and levees, schools, and the rail system. For many, the systems are still attempting to operate on equipment from the mid-1900s, making maintenance a nightmare. To the extent that we continue to ignore these problems and push them off on state and local municipalities, we commit an injustice against every person who utilizes that infrastructure. We need to look to the future, invoking new and emerging technologies and even creating new technologies in anticipation of solving problems before they occur.
Projects like Elon Musk’s Hyperloop need to be embraced and extended across the nation in the same way the interstate system did in 1956. Highways need to be refitted to best serve driverless cars. Airports need complete overhauls to not only make air travel safer but eliminate many of the non-weather related delays that currently plague the system. Repeated polls by both the Gallup and Pew organizations show that Americans support increased funding for infrastructure projects. That we are sitting here in 2017 without even a serious proposal on the table is shameful.
The truth is that we can and we must develop new economic models create jobs and increase wages and productivity. Instead of giving huge tax breaks to corporations that ship our jobs to China and other low-wage countries, we need to provide assistance to workers who want to purchase their own business by establishing worker-owned cooperatives and majority owned employee stock ownership places (ESOPs). Study after study has shown that employee ownership increases employment, increases productivity, increases sales, and increases wages in the United States.(p. 260)
We no longer can entertain an economy where profits are held in the hands of one percent of the population while the other ninety-nine percent struggle to keep a roof over their heads. Those who are responsible for the work being done by a company need and deserve a stronger say in how that business is operated and greater participation in the profit their work generates.
Of specific interest is the concept of “commoning,” sharing ownership and responsibility in everything that involves common assets. This social justice-based economy involves people not just in their primary professions but in other goods and services critical to their lives and equitably distributes profits in such a way as to prevent an unnecessary concentration of wealth among those at the top of an organization. While the emphasis of the movement has been focused primarily on environmental concerns, the concepts are potentially applicable to almost any corporate environment with just a little tweaking.
What is certain is that we cannot continue in this oligarchical society where workers are treated as a disposable commodity. Such an approach lays the foundation for the type of violent revolution most would prefer to avoid. Worker dissatisfaction is high but the solution is sitting right there in front of us. We simply have to engage it.
Okay, I’m getting wordy in my need to explain my positions. If I continue in that manner we’re going to be at 30,000 words before I’m done. So, for the remainder of economic issues, please excuse me for being necessarily brief.
Do you get the feeling this list could go on forever? It almost could. The economic issues in need of complete revision are almost too many to count. Any one of the issues mentioned here could easily be split into other related issues as well. The problems are severe and real solutions require a radical change in how we think about business and the economy as a whole. These are weeds that threaten our very existence. Pulling them up and replacing them with sustainable sod is the only way to continue. Proceeding with unchecked Capitalism is certain doom.
We must demand cooperative and responsive leadership
Thanks largely to the ubiquity of social media, I think Plato would find himself in heavy though perhaps inferior company among 21st-century citizens. “Arousing, persuading, and reproaching” politicians is a full-time effort for many. In fact, the ability to marshal hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of voters to contact their representatives is so strong that some members of Congress and Parliaments now turn off their phone services in the face of overwhelming comment. Such action presents a problem as the First Amendment to the US Constitution guarantees the right to “petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” When members of Government shut themselves off from public comment, they are, effectually, breaking the law.
Does such redress actually make a difference, though? Research suggests that it doesn’t. In 2014, Princeton University Professor of Politics, Martin Gilens, and Northwestern University Professor of Decision Making, Benjamin I. Page, conducted research that reveals public efforts to sway political opinion aren’t achieving the results we might prefer. Gilens and Page write:
In the United States, our findings indicate, the majority does not rule—at least not in the causal sense of actually determining policy outcomes. When a majority of citizens disagrees with economic elites or with organized interests, they generally lose. Moreover, because of the strong status quo bias built into the U.S. political system, even when fairly large majorities of Americans favor policy change, they generally do not get it.
There you have it—we are not a democracy. We’ve known that for some time, but having it quantified in such a way drives the point home in a way that packs more of a sting. As long as we were operating off anecdotal evidence we could easily dismiss the idea that we aren’t the shining beacon we proclaim ourselves to be. Gilens and Page confirm our fears, though, and leave us little ethical room to hide.
In 2015, following the United States Supreme Court’s Citizens United ruling on corporate campaign finance, former president Jimmy Carter responded to radio host Thom Hartman’s assertion that the decision is a “violation of principles of democracy,” with the following statement:
It violates the essence of what made America a great country in its political system. Now it’s just an oligarchy, with unlimited political bribery being the essence of getting the nominations for president or to elect the president. And the same thing applies to governors and U.S. senators and congress members. So now we’ve just seen a complete subversion of our political system as a payoff to major contributors, who want and expect and sometimes get favors for themselves after the election’s over. … The incumbents, Democrats and Republicans, look upon this unlimited money as a great benefit to themselves. Somebody’s who’s already in Congress has a lot more to sell to an avid contributor than somebody who’s just a challenger.
If the US is an oligarchy, then that makes us the same as, oh, Russia. No wonder they were interested in hacking our presidential election. We have so much in common now. [Said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.]
Should we really be surprised, though? Has the United States ever truly been the Representative Democracy that it claims to be? Despite what most of us were taught about the country being founded on the principals of freedom and inclusion, the bare facts show a much different picture. “Freedom” in the US has always been the domain of the rich and the privileged. The rest of us “common” folk have no regard and are valuable only to the extent we are able to do the work that results in the rich remaining so.
David Morris, writing for the website On The Commons, reminds us of the opinions expressed by our earliest leaders:
The founding fathers minced no words about their distrust of the masses. Our second President, John Adams warned, “Democracy will soon degenerate into an anarchy…” Our third President, Thomas Jefferson insisted, “Democracy is nothing more than mob rule.” Our fourth President, James Madison, the Father of the Constitution declared, “Democracy is the most vile form of government.”
In his argument against the direct election of Senators Connecticut’s Roger Sherman advised his colleagues at the Constitutional Convention, “The people should have as little to do as may be about the government. They lack information and are constantly liable to be misled.” They agreed. Senators would be elected by state legislatures. And they created the Electoral College to shield the Presidency from a direct vote of the people as well.
Evidence of how the oligarchs manipulate the Electoral College has never been more obvious than with our most recent presidential election. The 2.8 million-vote gap between the candidates should have elected the Democratic candidate in any reasonable version of democracy. Manipulation of the system, however, did just the opposite. Through the convoluted Electoral College system, the Republican candidate walked away with a win he in no way deserved.
Presidential elections aren’t the only ones being manipulated to work against the will of the majority, though. A well-entrenched tradition of gerrymandering congressional districts has long swayed voting to produce the results desired by whatever oligarchs might be pulling the purse strings at any given time. People like you and I, the working middle class and lower, have never really held the weight of power that democratic elections supposedly promised us.
Our vision from inside the country is obscured by a mandated sense of loyalty and patriotism. Anyone who fails to extol the virtues of “our democracy” is labeled as unpatriotic, a charge we continue to hear from the 45th president as he continues to utilize social media to berate challengers.
If we were to see ourselves through the eyes of those outside our country, we would hold a different opinion. In a 2014 WIN/Gallup poll of 66,000 people across 65 countries, 24 percent of respondents, by far the largest percentage in the category, rated the United States as the biggest threat to world peace. Pakistan came in second at eight percent and China was third with six percent. While many of the negative votes unsurprisingly came from Middle East countries that have directly felt the aggression of the United States, 37 percent of Mexicans and 17 percent of Canadians feel that the US is a dangerous neighbor.
Our reputation is perpetrators of violence is all too-well deserved. Presidents have repeatedly asserted that the US has the right to utilize force wherever and whenever it feels necessary in order to defend its position, investments, and interest. This stance is in defiance of the United Nations Charter, which we signed, stating that member countries, “shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state, or in any other manner inconsistent with the Purposes of the United Nations.” We repeatedly and continually bully other nations, including the European Union, with the threat of our overwhelming military force if they do not do our bidding. This has been a standard “negotiating” tactic of the US since World War II.
There are severe consequences to our actions. In his article on the refugee crisis, Philosopher and MIT Linguistics professor, Noam Chomsky, holds us accountable for a portion of our sins:
The US-UK invasion of Iraq alone displaced some 4 million people, of whom almost half fled to neighboring countries. And Iraqis continue to flee from a country that is one of the most miserable on earth after a decade of murderous sanctions followed by the sledgehammer blows of the rich and powerful that devastated the ruined country and also ignited a sectarian conflict that is now tearing the country and the region to shreds.
There is no need to review the European role in Africa, the source of more refugees, now passing through the funnel created by the French-British-US bombing of Libya, which virtually destroyed the country and left it in the hands of warring militias. Or to review the US record in Central America, leaving horror chambers from which people are fleeing in terror and misery, joined now by Mexican victims of the trade pact which, predictably, destroyed Mexican agriculture, unable to compete with highly subsidized US agribusiness conglomerates.
The reaction of the rich and powerful United States is to pressure Mexico to keep US victims far from its own borders, and to drive them back mercilessly if they manage to evade the controls. The reaction of the rich and powerful European Union is to bribe and pressure Turkey to keep pathetic survivors from its borders and to herd those who escape into brutal camps.
Among citizens, there are honorable exceptions. But the reaction of the states is a moral disgrace, even putting aside their considerable responsibility for the circumstances that have compelled people to flee for their lives.
This is the country we created. We are responsible, whether directly or indirectly, for the actions our leaders take on our behalf. When presidents and Congress violate international law, they implicate us all because we are the ones who continue to provide them with the power from which they govern.
The ground around us is evolving, though not necessarily in ways we might prefer. The US is losing both power and influence on the international stage, a situation that began some twenty years ago but recently accelerated with the election of the 45th president. What was labeled the Quantified Society in 2015 has ushered in a reality where cameras are always on, someone is always listening and/or watching, and we have willingly relinquished our privacy while simultaneously screaming about privacy. Our least healthy states (quality of life) are also our poorest and there isn’t even a program in place that adequately addresses that situation.
In his book The Failure of Presidential Democracy, J. J. Linz dismantles the myth of presidential effectiveness and warns of the ability of such a leader to steer a country toward anti-democratic actions and policies. While his examples were based upon the history of Latin American countries, we are now in a position where the US president exhibits the same warning signs: advocating violence, attempts to limit civil rights, and questioning the validity of elections (see the president’s repeated statements regarding the number of illegal votes cast for his opponent). Someone wake Kenny Loggins—we’re on that highway to the danger zone.
There is no way to respond to this situation, to the destruction of any sense of democracy, without one’s ideas being labeled as radical and possibly even unAmerican. Yet, history holds us responsible for the actions of our country. Just as one might hold the people of Germany responsible for the rise of Hitler and the atrocities committed under his administration, we are no less guilty of all the crimes against humanity the United States commits, both domestically and internationally. A radical response is necessary. After considerable study and research, I’ve come to the following conclusions:
Yes, that list is long. Yes, I could easily make it longer but at this point, I’m feeling a bit out of breath. Yes, the bullet points are painfully brief. Each of the concerns raised deserves a 75.000-word treatment complete with appropriate research and scholarly citation. This is not the place to be exhaustive in defense of my positions, merely exhausting.
What I hope we’ve driven home, however, is that the state of our democracy is severely damaged and that it is going to take more than a few memes or GIFs spread across social media to adequately address any of the situations. We can march for unity and sing for solidarity all we want and even sit in and disrupt activity on Wall Street for a couple of days and feel really good about resisting the headlong plunge toward tyranny. If we want to actually turn the country around, however, and set it on a course that is sustainable, the amount of work necessary is tremendous.
Keeping up the lawn is hard work. Those weeds aren’t going to pull themselves. We had best roll up our sleeves, put on some knee pads and get busy.
Concluding metaphors
[dropcap]Waking up in the morning, one of the first things I do is check the weather forecast for rain. If the ground is dry and staying that way, the lawn doesn’t need to be mowed. However, if we get a decent rainfall, the grass has to be cut within 48 hours or so to keep it from looking shaggy. The challenge comes when we get toward the end of summer and rainfall typically becomes more frequent. The grass needs cutting but there’s more rain moving in. When the window of opportunity is small, I often end up just mowing the damn thing myself. [/dropcap]
So it is with the state of our nation. Our window of opportunity is shrinking. While there’s little we can do at this point to prevent more stores from closing, the need to revise our economy, our society, and our government grows stronger. We have comparatively little time before tyranny and fascism completely take over our yard. We’ve gone beyond merely being unkempt and shaggy to the point we are becoming a menace. The weeds are tall and harboring rats and snakes.
We’ve not yet reached the point where we need to set fire to any portion of our society. Cutting back the overgrowth isn’t going to be easy, though. We’ve let it go too long with no real maintenance, making the false assumption that our problems would just work themselves out over the natural course of time.
Sorry, there is no such thing as a self-cutting lawn. We have to do the work ourselves.
This article has turned out to be about five times longer than I ever intended and I still feel as though I’m short changing you on the amount of detail necessary to justify my opinions. As I read back over everything, trying to make sure there are no glaring errors in grammar, I know that mine is a unique perspective. Yet, nothing said here is new or original. All of these thoughts existed in print long before I ever made the fateful decision to sit down and write.
And write.
Then write some more.
As I let go of the handle and let the engine on the mower die, I wonder if I’ve actually accomplished anything. Maybe the blade was set too high. Perhaps we should have cut deeper. I can spend the day second guessing my actions but I won’t. Kat’s off work today. The sun is shining. I think there’s a park calling our names.
Here’s what I want you to take away from this whole thing:
Enough of the postmodern bullshit where truth is whatever is convenient at the time, facts are a matter of perspective, and the scientific method doesn’t actually prove anything. Put that nonsense in the waste bin where it belongs. Do your research. Real research, mind you, not just Googling topics and reading the headlines. Study. Think. Ponder. Act.
Before we jump off, I should thank my models, Skilar, Lauren, Big Gabe, Little Gabe, and Tippy with some extra appreciation to my friend Keith for holding a reflector and transporting Skilar. I must also thank Kat for being understanding as I’ve largely left her alone with the kids for the past week while I’ve donned headphone and shut out the world while writing. She has done some amazing things while I’ve sat here typing. The soft-focused pictures of me were lensed by Big Gabe. He’s learning.
Meanwhile, the 45th president cursed in a politicized speech to boy scouts. Wow, that grass really needs to be cut. Short.
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