If you don’t want the child
enough to get married,
you don’t want the child
If you don’t want the child
If you don’t want the child
enough to get married,
you don’t want the child
It won’t happen if I’m not paying attention.
Music: George Michael, “Father Figure”
It’s The William Tell Show. I call myself William Tell; you can call me Bill. Thank you for including me in your world. Today we can look forward eagerly to Donald Trump’s being reinstated in August.
We are heading for some changes in this podcast. First, I’m thinking of changing the frequency, either to once a month or once every four weeks. Second, historically I’ve put a lot of work into the descriptions for these podcasts, linking to my music and to related material online. I’ve just discovered that those links do not APPEAR as links on most platforms. So, I’m a-take a different approach to that. I will also be experimenting with length, since I want each segment to be just about three minutes, and that hasn’t been happening.
I’m working on two forthcoming blog posts. The first, entitled “Shock,” is slated for June 12. The second, entitled “Shock 2,” is slated for June 19. A few weeks ago, a sponsored post, a right-wing political post, appeared in my FaceBook news feed. No political posts have appeared in my news feed for months. This one offended me, and I flew right off the handle. That’s what the blog post, “Shock,” will be about.
About a week later, a left-wing political post, or religious post, since some Lefties baptize their politics — This left-wing post appeared in my news feed, and I flew off the handle again. That’s what the blog post, “Shock 2,” will be about.
For the sake of The William Tell Show, it’s not a good thing that I flew off the handle at all. The William Tell Show is supposed to be “A Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood for adults” — a place where all people and all points of view are welcome. That won’t be the case if I blow up at anything any caller says, whether left-wing or right.
I would not have blown up at all if I were adequately centered, or in a state of peace of mind. In order to do The William Tell Show, it’s necessary that I establish peace of mind as a chronic state.
More about this after the break.
I literally wrote the book about peace of mind. It’s called The Way of Peace, and you can find it online at the dash way dash of dash peace, dot com. It’s pretty good. In fact, I probably need to read it. Again, that’s the dash way dash of dash peace, dot com.
Someone else wrote a book with the same title, back near the start of the 20th century. This was James Allen. I’ve looked at that book some, and he says almost all the exact same things I say. But his language is rather archaic.
As I recall, my book says that establishing peace of mind comes in three stages. The first is presence, or mindfulness. One needs to keep one’s attention, as far as possible, here and now — letting go of the past, the future, and everything elsewhere.
Second, one needs to practice the Serenity Prayer, accepting the things — all things — one cannot change, and paying attention instead to the things one can change, or do. Oneself.
Third, one needs to choose to be happy. It’s a choice.
Actually, this might be the project I’ve been looking for. I need to do it. It takes work; it takes intentionality; and it won’t happen if I’m not paying attention.
For today’s music: there are songs that go straight to the top of the charts, and stay there, because they profoundly encourage peace of mind. I chose one for today, “Father Figure,” by George Michael.
Copied from here: Why political correctness fails | The Week
News that Jews are being attacked, both verbally and physically, on the streets of American cities and around the world has sent me back to painful memories of my own childhood. They are memories of bigotry, bullying, and abuse — along with earnest efforts to combat the problem ever since.
Things have changed. But not as much as one might have hoped.
I’m Gen X, born in 1969. While growing up in southern Connecticut in the early 1980s, everyone I knew had a copy of a thin paperback book published by a division of Random House called Truly Tasteless Jokes. We’d keep it in our lockers or carry it around in our back pockets and whip it out on the fifth-grade playground during recess. The book, which sold millions of copies at the time, was divided into chapters: Jewish, WASP, Black, Hispanic, Polish, homosexual, handicapped, etc. It was a feast of stereotypes and prejudice. If you belonged to the group being mocked by one series of jokes read out loud by a peer, it was uncomfortable. But you knew that the reader would move on soon enough to another group, directing the animus elsewhere.
Fast forward a few years to high school — 9th or 10th grade. A boy from the American South who’d moved to our town a few years earlier brought a level of anti-Semitism with him that I’d never encountered. I was Jewish, but I didn’t talk about it much. I didn’t observe the sabbath, attend a synagogue or Hebrew school, or wear a yarmulke. Yet I was known as a Jew — one of a relatively small number in my high school. Which is probably why this kid decided at some point to make an example of me by yelling “Hebe!” in my face when he’d pass me in the hall. Soon a group of other kids in an overlapping circle of acquaintances took up calling me a kike.
This was nearly four decades ago. There was no official anti-bullying program at school, no school counselor on duty. The headmaster didn’t proclaim the school district was “No Place for Hate,” as the leadership of the public schools in my suburban Philadelphia neighborhood now does. It was simply understood that there were bullies out there in the world, and that it was terrible to be the target of abuse, but that this was life, and it would pass. There was nothing much to be done about it in any kind of systematic way. Boys would be boys and bigots would be bigots.
Was that an acceptable response? Probably not. I understand why well-meaning people reacted to searing experiences like mine by encouraging a new form of moral education in schools — an education that began in the late 1980s, got labeled “political correctness” by conservative critics during the early 1990s, slowly made its way through the culture over the intervening decades, and finally exploded into the “woke” revolution that began to roil workplaces during the mid-2010s and became much more pervasive after George Floyd’s murder a year ago.
The effects of this moral education can be seen all around us. It is impossible to imagine Truly Tasteless Jokes coming out from a major publishing house today, let alone it becoming a runaway bestseller that children read aloud in public. A student who hurled racist or anti-Semitic slurs at a peer would promptly be expelled from public school today, at least across wide swaths of the country. Instead of singling out members of various ethnic, racial, and religious groups for verbal and sometimes physical abuse, it’s the would-be abusers who are called out and criticized, their behavior (and the thoughts and assumptions behind the behavior) treated as shameful.
The ultimate goal of these changes has been the creation and perpetuation of a better world — one of greater equality and mutual respect, with less bigotry and cruelty.
Is this what we’ve gotten? Are we really that much closer to the goal of universal equality and respect than we were when I was in high school? In some respects, yes. It’s good that my own kids don’t carry around joke books ridiculing classmates and their families. I’m happy that (as far as I know) no one in their schools is yelling slurs in the faces of peers — and that if it happened, the student flinging the epithet would be punished.
But in other respects, we seem to be moving in the opposite direction, with movements explicitly opposed to political correctness on the rise at home and in countries around the world, and anti-Semitic attacks spreading like contagion. In response, those behind the project of moral reformation insist that efforts need to be redoubled — and that the backsliding must be blamed on a reluctance to shame the perpetrators even more aggressively. We simply need to do a better job of calling people bigots, of drawing lines and excommunicating larger numbers from the public square.
But there are, of course, other possibilities.
What if there are limits to how much guilt and blame people are willing to accept, especially when the transgression follows not from a specific act for which one might plausibly repent and be forgiven but from a “structure” of systemic oppression with which one is supposedly complicit simply by virtue of an inherited characteristic like skin color or gender? What if the insistence on pushing this approach is bound to trigger a defensive and resentful response that can manifest itself as anger directed at the very groups the reformers wish to help and defend?
Or what if human beings are tribal creatures who tend to divide people into groups, associating with and valorizing some, dissociating with and demonizing others? In that case, what we call bigotry might be much harder to drive out by moral education than we tend to assume, since new experiences and provocations can always reawaken it.
Think of Palestinians and those passionately committed to their cause associating Jews who have no direct connection to Israel with the actions of its government in Gaza and occupied areas of Jerusalem and the West Bank. When they act out with verbal and physical violence against Jews, it is recognized as anti-Semitic bigotry. But it’s the underlying, unjustified association — the lumping together of an American Jew walking down the street in Los Angeles with the Israeli government — that is the bigotry’s source. And yet woke activists regularly insist that white people everywhere are inherently guilty of moral transgressions against people of color simply by virtue of being white. How does that act of association differ from the one underlying pro-Palestinian violence against Jews around the world?
Or think of the way political correctness often simply changes which groups get valorized and which demonized. Back in my youth, mild-to-moderate levels of demonization among a wide range of groups was quite common, fueling the popularity of the Truly Tasteless Jokes book, which then encouraged the perpetuation of that demonization.
Copyright © Dennis Publishing Limited 2021. All rights reserved.
It’s OK to be white.
This is the last one, I promise. Continue reading Scrutinizing whiteness
A couple of years ago I turned a little area of my yard into a bird, bee, butterfly, and bug paradise. My motivation was twofold, one, I like birds, bees, butterfly’s, and bugs and two, it was less yard I had to mow.
Following the guidelines of the South Carolina Wildlife Federation (www.scwf.org/carolina-fence-gardens) I created an area for our urban wildlife that includes food, water, cover, and places to raise young. I also got a nifty sign designating my little patch of earth a Certified Wildlife Habitat.
I am three years into it now and I have really enjoyed watching some of these marvelous creatures make themselves at home in our backyard. My little plot has transformed from a patch of weeds as my wife first called it, into quite the oasis. But despite all the wonderful wildflowers, and flowering shrubs I planted I noticed that I was…
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It don’t come easy.