McCarthyism

Talk of the Nation: McCarthyism

Human Nature

Human nature is so often discussed, and so often defined that I cant help but feel cheesy, and cliché as I am typing this, but I feel that this is an important idea to discuss.  Nothing else throughout the course of human history has been more powerfully described as has human nature, nothing has ever been described so callously, or with such an august aura around it.  Human nature is obviously not a tangible thing, nor is it written down empirically anywhere, no document can claim its true origins, and in fact nobody can prove that such a thing exists.  It cannot be categorized, and its existence cannot be proven, and yet, throughout our literature and hundreds of other forms of media nothing is more indelible, so lasting.  One could spend a hundred lifetimes ruminating on the duality of, for lack of a better expression, the nature of human beings, and find no answer.  Why is it that a species separated from all other animals for our ability to think, so vigorously indulges in exploits of a physical nature?  How can the smartest of all species on this planet be the most eager to quell our fellow humans lives?  How can we react in such a trenchant manner to murder, rape, and other so-called "immoral" activities, when we as a species attempt to commit, and celebrate, genocide everyday, through the guise of patriotism? If human nature is just what we think it is, an undeniable map of human behavior, how are all of these questions anything but irrelevant?  I could sit here and belch platitudes all day long, but perhaps it would be more useful for individuals to begin to realize that not every person is the same, and not every person should be the same.  Perhaps its time to throw this "human nature," garbage out the window and realize that individuals have free thought, that individuals are in control of their own actions, and that human nature is nothing more than our species excuse for submitting to natural instincts that we are to ignorant scared, or stupid to recognize.

Greatness

It is human nature to seek out excitement, in that sense we are truly implacable creatures, in every aspect of our lives we search for this excitement, and will only be briefly appeased by it once we find it. It is this part of our nature that makes sports an integral part of our lives.  To almost every American, there is nothing greater than the stentorian roar as any particular team, or individual, exhibits unbelievable prowess at the absolute pinnacle of competition in their particular sport or game.  The greatest asset that any sport has to capture fans is its ability to create pageantry, and excitement.  The prowess needed to create this excitement is only truly possessed by a select few in every sport, in the decorum exhibited by Jack Nicklaus as he won his sixth green jacket, in the exuberance of Michael Jordan, under extreme duress, as he lead the Bulls in Game 5 of the 1997 Finals, or in the unbearable antipathy involved in the Michigan-Ohio State rivalry. A facsimile of this excitement cannot be found anywhere else, and is a major factor in what makes the greats, the greats.  In actuality, the importance to the fans, and the everyday person is nothing more than infinitesimal, but the excitement leads to true, palpable, unimaginable greatness, greatness that can truly live on forever in the memories of the fans who experienced it.

The Clueless Clairvoyant

Being a clairvoyant as George Stephenson was, he was more perceptive of many things going on around him.  Unfortunately, George's perception was entirely superficial.  He could look at a person and tell them if they forgot to lock their door, but absolutely nothing to placate their fear of death. He was an exemplary parlor trick magician, but could not see anything potent.  One day, a man came to George seeking his placid approach to psychic readings.  This man quickly spoke to George, alluding to great danger in the future for George and his family.  When George concentrated, trying to fathom the meaning of this mans warnings all he could muster to see was what he and his family would have for dinner that night.  The tension among these two men was palpable, a stark contrast to the contents of George's vision. George tried again to determine the meaning of this mans warnings, unfortunately he could see nothing conclusive.  The one thing that George could see was that he and his family were going to go out for a nice dinner at a new Italian restaurant that had just opened, as he and his family pulled out of their drive-way their car was smashed by a run-away semi-truck.

A Change of Heart

Perhaps it is uncouth for me to speak in 1st person for this assignment, perhaps it is reprehensible to mention this assignment within itself.  Frankly, I could care less, I have a point to make, and I intend to make it as succinctly as I can.  For many years now, I have believed that true music was comprised of explicitly specific aspects, and certain styles.  In my mind, any music bereft of these aspects was entirely superfluous, and utterly horrible.  I must now rescind my earlier statements about music, and accede to the much wiser, masters of music, such as Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, and Wycliffe Gordon.  Good music is always a relative of soul, and feeling, any music is good if the performer truly feels what he is saying whether through voice, or instrument.  The aspect of Armstrong that makes his music so enjoyable, and what makes it stand the test of time is his vivacity, and love of music.  For a very long time I have thought the modern music scene to be running rampant with bad music, and while that may or not be true, I know now that if it truly is bad, it is because the artist does not believe in what they are performing.  If an artist is in the music business for anything but the ability to entertain, or the ability to make good music, then their music will always be bad.  Music nowadays is certainly corrupt with its horrible messages for the younger audiences, affiliations with drugs, and its obsession with becoming rich, and famous.  This venal state of music, does not inherently create bad music, unless coupled with a lack of passion, true passion, that is.  I will never submit, though, that the greats of generations past were better musicians, than the "greats" of today.  I will forever implore my peers to give jazz a try, to give the deft touch of Basie's fingers, the stately wailing of Armstrong's high notes, or the expert phrasing of Sinatra at the pinnacle of his career, just one honest listen.  I will implore my peers, knowing that deep down in their hearts they will instantly fall in love.   I will forever believe that I was born at an incredibly inopportune time, I would give absolutely anything, and everything, to have been alive to hear Armstrong in person, to be able to shake hands with Basie, or to simply meet Sinatra, just once.  I can take solace, however, in the fact that I am still able to hear these musicians in some capacity through their wonderful recordings, although, somehow it just is not the same.  I only hope that I will forever remember this change of heart, closing yourself off to music you have never experienced will only lead to the lost chance to find a new favorite artist, and forever change your life.

My Life

“Get busy living, or get busy dying,”

But whats the point?

“After all, tomorrow is another day.”

With all of the ignorance in the world,

How could we handle common sense?

 "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore,”

How can society progress so far,

While falling even further?

“Soylent Green is people,”

But then again, why should that bother us?

We are eating our minds,

Why should we care if our neighbors “go missing?”

"Love means never having to say you're sorry,"

Love?

Or perhaps war?

“Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the war room,”

How can the world be so bleak?

Without anyone noticing?

What about faith?

Faith in God, or Allah, or Buddha?

Is nothing holy?

Is nothing worth the faith of mankind?

“An idea is a greater monument than a cathedral,”

Perhaps this is wrong?

Perhaps God does exist?

“Well, nobody's perfect,”

And yet, we all must be,

We all want the truth,

Well, mankind,

“You cant handle the truth!”

“Of all the gin joints,

In all the towns,

In all the world,

She walks into mine.”

But who was she?

Intelligence,

Kindness,

Common sense,

Love,

Call it what you will, but that is the meaning of life.

What could it be,

if not that?

“The, uh, stuff that dreams are made of,”

That is what matters,

And nothing more.

Or maybe I am crazy?

Call me a nut,

Tell me I'm senseless,

And maybe you are right, but,

“Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.”

The Thirteenth Caesar

Though the reign of the twelve Caesars was esteemed by a great many, there were many sordid affairs related to those twelve Roman emperors.  The most malevolent of all of these affairs would be the case of the little known thirteenth Caesar, Honoratus Galba.  This little known emperor was the illegitimate brother of the supposed twelfth Caesar, Domitian.  After Domitian's assassination in 96 A.D., the Roman people were eager to ascertain the fate of their imperial line.  Eventually, Honoratus was discovered and as the last surviving member of Domitian's family, he was crowned emperor.  A seemingly omniscient man, Honoratus knew everything about Roman History, was well versed in classical literature and music, and spoke Greek, Latin, and many other languages fluently. For this, he was instantly popular among the Roman citizens.  Many top Senators affiliated with Domitian's rule expected to be next in the imperial, these men alone, hated Honoratus. After a few days ruling Rome many of his advisors and close friends noticed how respectable Honoratus was, compared to his predecessors.  Because of this fact, the senators wished to expunge Honoratus' rule as quickly as possible.  Honoratus refused to allow corruption, he did not view the senator's lack of morals as a venial offense.  After the senators, as discreetly as they could, sent spies to skulk around the palace, they discovered that the Praetorians did not care for Honoratus' strict policies.  With this new knowledge, the corrupted Senators were able to begin a plan to remove Honoratus from his office. Honoratus thought himself invulnerable, he assumed that no man could get to him through the praetorian guards, he was sadly mistaken.  One day, a celebrated Roman general returned to Rome to celebrate a triumph after defeating the Dacians, and Honoratus was out among the people to greet the great general.  The senators gathered among those people and waited for the right moment to converge on Honoratus and kill him.  After stopping to greet an old woman who Honoratus once saved from fire as a youth, he turned and noticed that the praetorians had vanished.  The senators jumped from their hiding spots, killed Honoratus, and were gone before the crown knew what happened.  The story of the thirteenth Caesar shows what will eventually happen to all honorable men in politics.