It is popular, at least in our affluent society, to express sentiments such as “You can’t buy happiness”, or “The best things in life are free”. After a fire or other event involving the loss or possessions but not life, we console ourselves and other victims by stating that the lost items were “just THINGS”.
Many have come forward to suggest that perhaps you CAN buy happiness. Statements along the lines of “I’ve been poor and I’ve been rich. Rich is better!” are credited to various celebrities (most notably Sophie Tucker, although the current thinking suggests that the phrase is best credited to Beatrice Kaufman, if credited to any single individual). (Most recently, I ran across some research suggesting that there is a specific amount that benefits happiness. I believe the idea was that anything up to $75,000 does indeed increase happiness, while additional wealth does not offer much benefit.) The facts are contradictory. While there are certainly some possible advantages to wealth and possessions, there are certainly plenty of unhappy rich people.
Another widespread saying in recent years is “Don’t sweat the small stuff”. This idea is also used in conjunction with the “just THINGS” argument -- possessions are intrinsically “small stuff”, while things like your health and your relationships are IMPORTANT.
Years ago, I started telling myself to “sweat the small stuff”. Though my full logic is complicated and perhaps convoluted, it involves the concept that perhaps it is better to worry about and struggle with the small things, things that perhaps you can actually hope to control, rather than the truly overwhelming things like your health and your relationships.
Along the same lines, I have realized I can find great joy in some of my possessions -- and I do not mean status or luxury items like a sports car, a boat, or fancy jewelry. For example, I have a little plastic bottle-top that snaps on to a pop/soda can, and temporarily turns it into a bottle with a screw top (you can now buy these devices in multi-packs from ads on television, but I got mine when you could purchase them singly). Some/many would consider such a device to be pointless at best and stupid/wasteful at worst, but using it can make me happy during otherwise unhappy times. I am also quite fond of my new mechanical pencil.
This is a complicated topic. I am NOT saying that you CAN buy happiness, or that the best things in life are possessions, or even that you should ignore the “big stuff” like health and relationships. I AM saying that it’s okay to take some joy in the small stuff, and it’s okay to enjoy your “things”. Life can be hard, and if you can find some happiness in making a really great sandwich, or possessing a particularly nice-looking guitar pick, go for it!
Truth is complicated.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Juan Williams
I had just finished typing a post about National Public Radio when I began to hear news about the firing of Juan Williams.
I am no expert on Juan Williams. I became aware of him because he was the regular host of National Public Radio’s afternoon call-in program, “Talk of the Nation”. For a long time, I knew him only from the radio, but I enjoyed and respected him. Later, I occasionally saw him on television.
According to published reports, Juan Williams was fired from NPR after making some statements during a discussion about terrorism on “The O’Reilly Factor” on Fox News Channel. Specifically, he is quoted as saying, “But when I get on a plane, I got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they're identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous." This was just one excerpt from a much longer discussion, but it seems to be the crucial part in terms of his firing.
However, since the firing, I have been hearing and reading that Juan Williams has been in trouble with NPR for quite some time. According to The Washington Post: “NPR officials say they have repeatedly told Williams that some of his statements on Fox violate NPR's ground rules for its news analysts. The rules ban NPR analysts from making speculative statements or rendering opinions on TV that would be deemed unacceptable if uttered on an NPR program. The policy has some gray areas, they acknowledged, but it generally prohibits personal attacks or statements that negatively characterize broad groups of people, such as Muslims.”
The same Washington Post article notes that Williams states that his specific contract with NPR exempted him from some of these rules governing other NPR employees.
I personally am slightly -- but only slightly -- conflicted on this complicated issue. In general, I tend to believe an employer can make any rules they want, and the employee has the option of following those rules or finding another job. In this case, though, the rules themselves seem wrong, whether or not Juan Williams was bound by them -- especially since this is National PUBLIC Radio. More importantly, it is an oversimplification to claim that Williams actually made a personal attack or a statement that negatively characterized a broad group of people.
The TRUTH -- which is complicated -- is that rather than attacking or criticizing Muslims, Williams was confessing one of his own failings. He was stating one of his inner feelings; a secret, possibly irrational fear of which he was not necessarily proud. He did NOT say “Muslims are terrorists” or “Muslims are bad” or even “Muslims should not be allowed on planes”. If anything, he was attacking and criticizing HIMSELF.
The thing that puzzles me MOST about this issue is that there seem to be some thoughtful, rational, intelligent people who support the firing. This makes me wonder whether there is some aspect of the issue that I am failing to see or consider.
For now, though, I am deeply troubled by the firing of Juan Williams from NPR. Here is MY confession: Since the firing of Juan Williams, I have been listening much less to National Public Radio, on a fairly conscious level. I suppose it is some sort of protest, but I do not know what I am thinking I am accomplishing.
Truth is complicated.
I am no expert on Juan Williams. I became aware of him because he was the regular host of National Public Radio’s afternoon call-in program, “Talk of the Nation”. For a long time, I knew him only from the radio, but I enjoyed and respected him. Later, I occasionally saw him on television.
According to published reports, Juan Williams was fired from NPR after making some statements during a discussion about terrorism on “The O’Reilly Factor” on Fox News Channel. Specifically, he is quoted as saying, “But when I get on a plane, I got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they're identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous." This was just one excerpt from a much longer discussion, but it seems to be the crucial part in terms of his firing.
However, since the firing, I have been hearing and reading that Juan Williams has been in trouble with NPR for quite some time. According to The Washington Post: “NPR officials say they have repeatedly told Williams that some of his statements on Fox violate NPR's ground rules for its news analysts. The rules ban NPR analysts from making speculative statements or rendering opinions on TV that would be deemed unacceptable if uttered on an NPR program. The policy has some gray areas, they acknowledged, but it generally prohibits personal attacks or statements that negatively characterize broad groups of people, such as Muslims.”
The same Washington Post article notes that Williams states that his specific contract with NPR exempted him from some of these rules governing other NPR employees.
I personally am slightly -- but only slightly -- conflicted on this complicated issue. In general, I tend to believe an employer can make any rules they want, and the employee has the option of following those rules or finding another job. In this case, though, the rules themselves seem wrong, whether or not Juan Williams was bound by them -- especially since this is National PUBLIC Radio. More importantly, it is an oversimplification to claim that Williams actually made a personal attack or a statement that negatively characterized a broad group of people.
The TRUTH -- which is complicated -- is that rather than attacking or criticizing Muslims, Williams was confessing one of his own failings. He was stating one of his inner feelings; a secret, possibly irrational fear of which he was not necessarily proud. He did NOT say “Muslims are terrorists” or “Muslims are bad” or even “Muslims should not be allowed on planes”. If anything, he was attacking and criticizing HIMSELF.
The thing that puzzles me MOST about this issue is that there seem to be some thoughtful, rational, intelligent people who support the firing. This makes me wonder whether there is some aspect of the issue that I am failing to see or consider.
For now, though, I am deeply troubled by the firing of Juan Williams from NPR. Here is MY confession: Since the firing of Juan Williams, I have been listening much less to National Public Radio, on a fairly conscious level. I suppose it is some sort of protest, but I do not know what I am thinking I am accomplishing.
Truth is complicated.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
National Public Radio
Note: I had already written most of this when I began hearing news about the firing of Juan Williams from NPR. Although everything I have written here remains valid, I have been hesitant to post this since my feelings about NPR are currently dominated by the subject of the firing. I will post a separate entry about Juan Williams.
I often listen to National Public Radio while driving my car. This arose partly from the fact that at my home, the signal for their stations tends to be weak. In addition to music, I hear many interesting, thought-provoking, and profound things on National Public Radio, while driving my car.
There are various problems associated with this. For one thing, I often miss the beginning and/or end of a story or interview. I also tend to miss or forget the details. If I were reading, or even watching TV in the comfort of my home, I would be more likely to catch people’s names, or the titles of books they have written, and I could further research the information later, at my leisure. (I realize it is POSSIBLE to later track down information heard on National Public Radio, but it can be difficult, especially if my memory is hazy since I was focused on my driving.)
For example, a few months ago I heard part of a fascinating interview with someone who had written a book about something. I was especially impressed with some comments the author made about ... I believe he used the phrase “group identity”. As I recall, it was the author’s contention that the phenomenon of group identity -- the idea that people identify themselves by their nationality, region, race, religion, or an infinite number of other factors -- is a horribly destructive force, and at least partially responsible for much or most of the conflict in our world, and for many other problems as well. He said some eloquent, profound things, and I would like to read more of what he had to say, and I would like to be able to quote him, and link to him in this blog ... but for now, all I can say is that he was “someone who had written a book about something”.
I also have heard interesting comments from “some guy who used to be a high official in Iraq” and “four or five experts on International Law” -- and sometimes I try to quote them, or make other references to the information I heard, but it is always vague and impossible to verify or research. They will probably show up in this blog at some point.
Since the firing of Juan Williams from NPR, I have been considering the extent to which NPR is biased toward certain views. I have always been aware of this bias, but felt it did not interfere substantially with the information I gained from listening, especially since I tend to pay more attention to their guests than to the actual NPR staff.
Now I wonder: If I fundamentally disagree with the policies of NPR management, then am I somehow supporting these policies just by tuning in on the radio? If I attend a lecture or rally, and I fundamentally disagree with the opinions being put forward, does my mere presence at the event imply or deliver some kind of support?
Truth is complicated.
I often listen to National Public Radio while driving my car. This arose partly from the fact that at my home, the signal for their stations tends to be weak. In addition to music, I hear many interesting, thought-provoking, and profound things on National Public Radio, while driving my car.
There are various problems associated with this. For one thing, I often miss the beginning and/or end of a story or interview. I also tend to miss or forget the details. If I were reading, or even watching TV in the comfort of my home, I would be more likely to catch people’s names, or the titles of books they have written, and I could further research the information later, at my leisure. (I realize it is POSSIBLE to later track down information heard on National Public Radio, but it can be difficult, especially if my memory is hazy since I was focused on my driving.)
For example, a few months ago I heard part of a fascinating interview with someone who had written a book about something. I was especially impressed with some comments the author made about ... I believe he used the phrase “group identity”. As I recall, it was the author’s contention that the phenomenon of group identity -- the idea that people identify themselves by their nationality, region, race, religion, or an infinite number of other factors -- is a horribly destructive force, and at least partially responsible for much or most of the conflict in our world, and for many other problems as well. He said some eloquent, profound things, and I would like to read more of what he had to say, and I would like to be able to quote him, and link to him in this blog ... but for now, all I can say is that he was “someone who had written a book about something”.
I also have heard interesting comments from “some guy who used to be a high official in Iraq” and “four or five experts on International Law” -- and sometimes I try to quote them, or make other references to the information I heard, but it is always vague and impossible to verify or research. They will probably show up in this blog at some point.
Since the firing of Juan Williams from NPR, I have been considering the extent to which NPR is biased toward certain views. I have always been aware of this bias, but felt it did not interfere substantially with the information I gained from listening, especially since I tend to pay more attention to their guests than to the actual NPR staff.
Now I wonder: If I fundamentally disagree with the policies of NPR management, then am I somehow supporting these policies just by tuning in on the radio? If I attend a lecture or rally, and I fundamentally disagree with the opinions being put forward, does my mere presence at the event imply or deliver some kind of support?
Truth is complicated.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Monty Python
And now for something completely different.
Being a "Python" is a bit like being a "Trekkie" -- though we do not have the universally-agreed-upon cool nickname.
Fans of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" share a unique world.
I stumbled upon the "Monty Python" television show late one evening in the early 1970s. (Incidentally, for those with knowledge of Monty Python, the FIRST sketch I saw was the "killer joke" sketch.) I had seen "Flying Circus" listed in the TV schedule (which at that time omitted the "Monty Python's"), but never tuned it in, and assumed it had something to do with flying or at least a circus. I had not heard it mentioned by any of my friends, but I believe several of them were stumbling upon it at about the same time. Eventually, word or mouth kicked in, but I honestly believe several of us just happened upon it independently.
I could spend paragraphs or pages describing how the television show spread through and permeated our lives. Suffice it to say that it became a sort of language, shared by a growing fraternity of fans. A single phrase, or even a single word, could elicit chortles from those who were "in the know." Perhaps the most curious part is that the single phrase or word may have appeared only once in the television show, yet lives on to this day in the minds of Monty Python fans, and even beyond the minds of Monty Python fans. It is generally believed that the use of the term "spam" in regard to e-mail originated with a Monty Python sketch involving the "Spam" meat product. Climbers on Everest have greeted each other as "Bruce", possibly not even realizing they are referencing a Monty Python sketch in which everyone was named "Bruce."
Even now, decades since the filming of the television show, phrases from Monty Python sketches routinely pop into my head, and I sometimes say them out loud, and often those around me are simply puzzled, though occasionally there is a flash of recognition, and perhaps an appropriate reply.
My point, though, is not to discuss how experiences leave permanent "marks" on our thinking, and how shared experiences -- even shared across continents -- may result in mutual reference points for future communication and bonding. My POINT is to confess and acknowledge that my own thinking has been forever influenced, to an unknown extent, by "Monty Python's Flying Circus". I have no regrets about this, and in fact recommend it to those who have not immersed themselves in that world.
I suppose that legally I should point out that no one from Monty Python is paying me or otherwise rewarding me for recommending them.
Since I have no particular way to conclude these comments, I will mention that often when the Monty Python television show had no way to conclude a sketch, they would have a knight in armor trot out and hit someone with a rubber chicken. When I have no way to conclude a blog posting, I write "Truth is complicated."
Truth is complicated. (Visualize a knight in armor striking someone with a rubber chicken ... feel free to do that anytime I write "Truth is complicated.")
Being a "Python" is a bit like being a "Trekkie" -- though we do not have the universally-agreed-upon cool nickname.
Fans of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" share a unique world.
I stumbled upon the "Monty Python" television show late one evening in the early 1970s. (Incidentally, for those with knowledge of Monty Python, the FIRST sketch I saw was the "killer joke" sketch.) I had seen "Flying Circus" listed in the TV schedule (which at that time omitted the "Monty Python's"), but never tuned it in, and assumed it had something to do with flying or at least a circus. I had not heard it mentioned by any of my friends, but I believe several of them were stumbling upon it at about the same time. Eventually, word or mouth kicked in, but I honestly believe several of us just happened upon it independently.
I could spend paragraphs or pages describing how the television show spread through and permeated our lives. Suffice it to say that it became a sort of language, shared by a growing fraternity of fans. A single phrase, or even a single word, could elicit chortles from those who were "in the know." Perhaps the most curious part is that the single phrase or word may have appeared only once in the television show, yet lives on to this day in the minds of Monty Python fans, and even beyond the minds of Monty Python fans. It is generally believed that the use of the term "spam" in regard to e-mail originated with a Monty Python sketch involving the "Spam" meat product. Climbers on Everest have greeted each other as "Bruce", possibly not even realizing they are referencing a Monty Python sketch in which everyone was named "Bruce."
Even now, decades since the filming of the television show, phrases from Monty Python sketches routinely pop into my head, and I sometimes say them out loud, and often those around me are simply puzzled, though occasionally there is a flash of recognition, and perhaps an appropriate reply.
My point, though, is not to discuss how experiences leave permanent "marks" on our thinking, and how shared experiences -- even shared across continents -- may result in mutual reference points for future communication and bonding. My POINT is to confess and acknowledge that my own thinking has been forever influenced, to an unknown extent, by "Monty Python's Flying Circus". I have no regrets about this, and in fact recommend it to those who have not immersed themselves in that world.
I suppose that legally I should point out that no one from Monty Python is paying me or otherwise rewarding me for recommending them.
Since I have no particular way to conclude these comments, I will mention that often when the Monty Python television show had no way to conclude a sketch, they would have a knight in armor trot out and hit someone with a rubber chicken. When I have no way to conclude a blog posting, I write "Truth is complicated."
Truth is complicated. (Visualize a knight in armor striking someone with a rubber chicken ... feel free to do that anytime I write "Truth is complicated.")
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