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.

Gaga V.S. Sinatra

The demise of music over the past forty or so years is well known, at least to true musicians.  To the "well-informed" public, music is far greater and more successful than it ever has been before, but at what cost? The popular music scene now consists of worthless degenerates with a much larger knowledge of sound altering technology than they do of anything musical.  People have alienated themselves from true music, to hide amongst the talentless buffoons that they call musicians.  A modern song without mindless use of obscenities, references to solicitation, or drug use is nearly impossible to find.  It would be insane to say that this sort of behavior is restricted only to our time period, however, most music of fifty years ago is much more urbane, both in terms of language and references, and musical understanding and ability.  Adversaries of music from the past will quote the lack of speed and excitement and some earlier music, but there is more excitement in almost any single Count Basie recording than can be found in the whole of modern country music.  Many people are exhilarated by the sounds of rap and hip-hop, however the similarity of any rap song to every other rap song easily makes, for any musically aware fan, the excitement an entirely negligible factor.  When a sensible person takes time to muse over the inclement environment of modern music they will be forced to reminisce on a time when good music was dictated by talent and expressiveness, rather than technology, money, and less than reputable "showmanship."  The perpetuation of auto-tune and similar effects and programs has done a great deal to allow people with very little talent to become incredibly popular "singers."  Instead of working hard for nearly thirty years of your life to attain a small amount of fame, money, and talent, a person can simply say "I want to be a famous singer," and nearly anything they want will be handed to them on a silver platter.  The days of working like Sinatra or Armstrong just to make good music are seemingly gone forever, now, it is all about money.  No one will go so far as to say that good music is entirely dead, as long as an appreciation still exists for the inimitable talent of Armstrong, Fitzgerald, and Monk, true music cannot be deleted from our lives.  It seems that there is no way to redress this problem, until it is recognized as a problem by more than the few purists that still exist, although I wouldn't hold my breath.

A Criticism of Modern Society

With memories of war, hatred, pestilence, poverty, and holocausts still ingrained in our minds, as a society, we believe ourselves to be above those that came before us.  We believe that we are in every way better than those that lived before us a hundred, or even a thousand years ago.  I must, however, stick to my convictions that in many ways we are far worse than our predecessors.  To the uninformed, we are averse to racism and chauvinism and all other sorts of bigotry, but that simply is not true.  We have just become more discreet, more careful and our idiocy has become more pointed, and more severe.  As a country our reaction to these ideas, such as racism, can't be described as anything more than tepid.  This duplicity, these double-standards are absolutely deplorable, and yet, no one ever cares to mention them, or correct them for that matter. To the most stubborn among us,  these few offenses can be forgiven, simply take a moment to ponder our other advancements, these must surely make amends for our petty problems.  Again, I must earnestly disagree,  the benevolent attitude towards these offenses might be forgiven if we had actually made any progress whatsoever.  All of the advancements we have made in technology have simply lead to more offenses, perhaps less taboo, but nonetheless important.  The way classic art, music, drama, cinema, and literature is scrutinized is severely depressing and truly reprehensible, this meticulous undercutting of true art has been caused by, among other things, our love affair with new technologies.  Our set of morals and values have also greatly diminished over the past thirty to forty years.  While no impetus for this retrogression can be easily spotted, it is no less frightening. I am well aware that my words mean nothing, I am also well aware that very few people will ever read this, I can only hope that while our society is impervious to my words, it is not so unwilling to accept these truths.

The Ardent Archer

Many years ago when chivalry was ordinary, and opulence was less so, there lived an ambidextrous archer who was renowned worldwide for his skills. After thriving for years and becoming incredibly wealthy due to his talent, and his fortitude, the archer became restless, and depressed.  One day, the archer had an epiphany, the quiet village in which he lived was bereft of talent, nostalgic beauty, and most of all, excitement.  The archer decided to leave the quiet village, for the large, bustling city twenty miles north, he was sure that this city would provide the excitement he so desperately longed for.  After a long journey, the archer entered the city tentatively, and gaped at the astounding size and architecture around him.  Suddenly, the archer noticed a large caravan of insidious looking men on majestic steeds, judiciously making its way towards the portcullis.  When the caravan arrived the archer immediately recognized the dour expression of his mentor, from which the archer had learned every aspect of his craft.  His mentor approached him quickly with an obvious sense of purpose. After a moment of tense silence, the archer's mentor described a similar sense of depression that had plagued the archer, that sense of depression is the factor that led the archer's mentor to this city.  All at once the archer and his mentor had the exact same thought; an archery contest to forever determine who was the greatest archer in the land.  In the years since the archer and his mentor parted ways, the archer spent his time finding inner peace and studying the intricacies of the human mind.  His mentor, however spent his time augmenting his physical strength.  After weeks of training, and anticipation the entire city gathered to witness the contest of the century.  The archer's mentor dazzled the crowd with his strength, while the archer focused inwardly, trying to find that certain part of any man, deep down, that leads that man to greatness.  With the same stolid expression that the archer had worn all day he raised his bow needing a single bullseye to forever cement his name in history as the greatest archer of all time.  The tension in the city was noticeable, the silence would have been unbearable for any weaker men, and yet the archer and his mentor stood perfectly still.  The archer drew his bow, released, and the entire city gasped collectively as the archer hit his mark, proving once and for all that metaphysical strength, and calmness will always trump any amount of physical strength.

     As cliché as it may sound, literature can have an astounding impact on a young person, especially more poignant, pointed literature. The first time I read Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 was in seventh grade, and it remains one of the most powerful pieces of literature I have ever read.  As I was reading, its true point and value was lost on me, however, by the time I set the book down, Bradbury's point had become frighteningly clear.  Fahrenheit 451 has forever shaped me and my outlook on life, and I'm sure it will continue to do so for many years.
     After finishing Fahrenheit 451 its message became profoundly, and frighteningly clear.  Ray Bradbury had grown increasingly concerned with the world around him and the direction the human race was headed, especially Americans.  Bradbury was noticing the love affair that the world was having with new-found and newly advanced technology, namely Televisions.  Being an avid reader the apparent absence of books in the world greatly frightened Bradbury, as it does me.  Although reading, and therefore knowledge, was not entirely removed from society, or outlawed as it was in Bradbury's novel, but it was frowned upon by most.  What frightened me most was not the way Bradbury viewed the world during his life-time it was instead his well-informed opinion of what was going to happen in the near-future.  Anymore, to be well-versed in literature, especially the classics, is to be a social pariah, and a, "nerd."  While the seemingly undesirable term, "nerd," never bothered me all that much, I'm sure that it has offended many others, and possibly turned them away from pursuing knowledge.  It is this general disdain for the pursuit of knowledge that frightened Bradbury, as it does me.  Whether I have an extreme delusion of grandeur or not is up for debate, but I have felt, ever since finishing Bradbury's novel that I must help, among many others, to champion Bradbury's cause, his love for literature, and knowledge.
     All of Bradbury's predictions, hinted at in Fahrenheit 451, have come true in some sense or another and all of these predictions are what frightened me so greatly after reading the novel.  To just go about daily life ignorant of nearly everything is something that I would not accept, it is my sincerest hope that no one else would accept this kind of life, unfortunately, many have.  Recently, the term aliterate has been invented to describe people who can read, but have no interest in doing so.  If Bradbury was aware of this new form of literacy, I would be surprised if he would not have been moved to tears, tears shed for the fate of our society. Bradbury was right in his fear of the future, technology, and most importantly, one of the many flaws in human nature that have lead to this deplorable state of existence.