Seems to me that it is an affliction primarily of men, though I know of exceptions. It is the compulsion to take any object, machine, or device, and somehow “improve” it. I know of no man who does not suffer from this — and suffer is indeed the word — and if there is any I’m not interested in knowing him. We compulsive improvers make the world a more interesting if less efficient place.
The NFL’s decision to make a “gender non-conforming” star who doesn’t sing in English the halftime performer is not important to world events. But it is a symptom of a big problem in how we deal with our big problems.
This might explain it. Donald Trump had a dream in which he was told that reality is an illusion, that it’s all in his head, that all that exists is what he imagines. The notion would not be original to him. Nothing is, except his regard for himself.
Now that I have your attention, let’s talk about it all. Pluralism as an absolute is relativism; a relative pluralism honors the individual search for truth.
The events of the last week have captured the news media, the commentariat, and the online amateur philosopher sites — TwitteX and suchlike. Though they are connected, I think therein lie two separate compelling stories. Here, I hope to tell both of them, separately.
Such a weird flood of emotions. My church is part of a twice yearly, live streamed “Online Community Prayer Walk.” It always strikes me deeply, but how much more so as it falls on 9/11 and, more immediately, amidst two nation-shaking murders.
When I made a list of suggested replacements for Windows on those machines which Microsoft Corporation has deemed unsuitable for Windows 11, I left one out because I hadn’t heard of it. We’ll remedy that shortly, but first a little history.
If you must know, the politician I admire the most was nevertheless wrong about most issues: William Jennings Bryan. So sticking up for Lincoln is not something I do from ideology, or if it is ideology, it’s only in the broadest possible sense. The country we have now, if there is something to preserve, we owe it to Mr. Lincoln.
Many years ago a radio network colleague came into the newsroom one Friday night all excited. She and her well-known musician husband, confirmed city dwellers, were going to rent a car the next day and explore the countryside. On Monday, I asked how the excursion had been. Her always cheerful expression turned into a horrified scowl. “We turned around and came right back. The rats up there are three feet long!” They had seen one crossing the road at night.
Last night, Russia launched its largest drone attack yet in its war against Ukraine. Vladimir Putin does not want peace, he wants victory. And, as China’s ceremonial flexing this week emphasized, he’s not the only one. If President Trump wants to be the peace president, time is running out.