Winston Churchill has a famous quote about age and political philosophy. It made sense to me and I always just assumed it was essentially true. So I was surprised to find that, as I age, I have drifted further and further to the left. It is an awkward place for me to be because I am far, far left of the current liberal political establishment - so much so that, although Republicans and Democrats are certainly not identical, I think of Democrats as the legitimate conservative party (Republicans are just pure fascist evil).
So to keep my head on straight, to keep myself from feeling lost and adrift in a sea of conservatives, I have found a bundle of podcasts that help me cope. I highly recommend these to everyone.
Best of the Left
The Young Turks (it may be best to just go to their YouTube page)
Citizen Radio (this page opens with music, which I find pretty obnoxious. Subscribe to them on iTunes)
Reasonable Doubts
I'm sure that there are more progressive blogs and podcasts that you all enjoy. Please share them with me and I will post all of these things on a sidebar (coming soon).
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Addictions: why it is so hard to be good
I want to be a good and responsible person, but it is so difficult. Some things are easy: recycling the waste I produce is a thing I have control over. Using CFL bulbs and watching my energy and water usage has a real (if negligible) impact on the world's resources. I give blood and have a growing stable of regular charities that I donate to. But I still have to watch every single place that I step, every bite that I eat, every thing I buy. Driving a car uses oil and produces carbon pollution. I don't abuse animals, but if I eat butter, then I am giving money to people who do. Buying clothing or electronics will likely give money to abusive and unfair factory owners.
It isn't enough to be a good person - I have to think about everyone else too. I have to consider every single thing I do for what far-reaching impact it may be having. The Western World is addicted to oil. We all talk a big game about pulling the needle out and going cold turkey, but it just isn't possible. I am as appalled by oil companies and pollution and global warming as anyone, but I still drive my own car. It is possible for me to go without, and I have considered it, but it would involve a bicycle or bus or taxi and, frankly, it is too much work for me; I know that what would involve great personal sacrifice would have no measurable impact on the planet. Even if I did sell my car and bike to work, I would still shop at Target and patronize our capitalist system that is the real cause of all of our problems. Trucking goods from one side of the globe to another uses tons of oil and produces tons of pollution. One day, and probably sooner than later, we'll have to switch from oil to some other primary power source, but until that becomes absolutely necessary, I will continue to be a participant in this corrupt and evil system of usage and waste and pollution.
Being a human involved in modern society is startlingly similar to the doctrine of original sin. In fact, this is an idea of guilt that I will even get behind. If I were to go 'off the grid' immediately and for the rest of my life, I would have still been party to irreparable damage to the planet. I have an impact and in my short time I am afraid that it has been mostly negative. As I said at the top, I don't abuse animals. I don't even kill spiders if I can avoid it. I feel a twinge (but just a twinge) of guilt and remorse when I kill a mosquito. I have even taken my love and respect for animals to the point where I no longer eat them. But it has become increasingly obvious that this is not good enough. Sure, not eating chicken is a fine (and essential) moral position, but by simply eating eggs, I am contributing to the suffering of the chickens who lay the eggs in equally (if not worse!) miserable conditions. And then I have to consider not just omelets, but also pasta and bread and cookies. And then - did I just become a vegan?
I don't want to hurt people or animals or damage the planet. I want to be a good person, but the problem is that by simply existing and consuming goods and appreciating art (and you can't convince me that television and video games and movies are not art) I am inflicting harm on someone. We are addicted to harm, hooked on pain. The engines of progress are run on damage and lubricated by blood. That sounds melodramatic, but in a way, it is perfectly true and none of us can avoid it. As I said earlier, even if we stop now, we will always have blood on our hands.
Our generation may be irredeemable. The difference between our guilt and the (false) idea of original sin is that it isn't implicit in our nature to be cruel. Greed and ingenuity have caused us to sidestep our moral obligations. Our participation in society and the machinery of Western society has stained our hands with the blood of the disenfranchised, from genetically modified (but no less sensitive to suffering and torment) chickens, pigs and cows to abused and underpaid workers who make (the regional equivalent of) pennies and dollars a day. If you consider domesticated animals as a part of our society, as I think we must, then the disparity between the richest and the poorest among us has never been greater.
It isn't enough to be a good person - I have to think about everyone else too. I have to consider every single thing I do for what far-reaching impact it may be having. The Western World is addicted to oil. We all talk a big game about pulling the needle out and going cold turkey, but it just isn't possible. I am as appalled by oil companies and pollution and global warming as anyone, but I still drive my own car. It is possible for me to go without, and I have considered it, but it would involve a bicycle or bus or taxi and, frankly, it is too much work for me; I know that what would involve great personal sacrifice would have no measurable impact on the planet. Even if I did sell my car and bike to work, I would still shop at Target and patronize our capitalist system that is the real cause of all of our problems. Trucking goods from one side of the globe to another uses tons of oil and produces tons of pollution. One day, and probably sooner than later, we'll have to switch from oil to some other primary power source, but until that becomes absolutely necessary, I will continue to be a participant in this corrupt and evil system of usage and waste and pollution.
Being a human involved in modern society is startlingly similar to the doctrine of original sin. In fact, this is an idea of guilt that I will even get behind. If I were to go 'off the grid' immediately and for the rest of my life, I would have still been party to irreparable damage to the planet. I have an impact and in my short time I am afraid that it has been mostly negative. As I said at the top, I don't abuse animals. I don't even kill spiders if I can avoid it. I feel a twinge (but just a twinge) of guilt and remorse when I kill a mosquito. I have even taken my love and respect for animals to the point where I no longer eat them. But it has become increasingly obvious that this is not good enough. Sure, not eating chicken is a fine (and essential) moral position, but by simply eating eggs, I am contributing to the suffering of the chickens who lay the eggs in equally (if not worse!) miserable conditions. And then I have to consider not just omelets, but also pasta and bread and cookies. And then - did I just become a vegan?
I don't want to hurt people or animals or damage the planet. I want to be a good person, but the problem is that by simply existing and consuming goods and appreciating art (and you can't convince me that television and video games and movies are not art) I am inflicting harm on someone. We are addicted to harm, hooked on pain. The engines of progress are run on damage and lubricated by blood. That sounds melodramatic, but in a way, it is perfectly true and none of us can avoid it. As I said earlier, even if we stop now, we will always have blood on our hands.
Our generation may be irredeemable. The difference between our guilt and the (false) idea of original sin is that it isn't implicit in our nature to be cruel. Greed and ingenuity have caused us to sidestep our moral obligations. Our participation in society and the machinery of Western society has stained our hands with the blood of the disenfranchised, from genetically modified (but no less sensitive to suffering and torment) chickens, pigs and cows to abused and underpaid workers who make (the regional equivalent of) pennies and dollars a day. If you consider domesticated animals as a part of our society, as I think we must, then the disparity between the richest and the poorest among us has never been greater.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Time and space (for a Greyhound)
It has been two weeks since our Julian died. I still think about him and I think that I always will. He was very photogenic, so we have hundreds of pictures of him, and I hope that in the future I will remember him when he was happy and healthy. Sadly, the strongest, most vivid memories I have of him are of when he was sick. I think of his swollen legs and his lethargy. I think of the way he had no desire to eat but desperately drank as much water as we would let him drink, even though he would throw it up if he truly drank his fill. It broke my heart to restrict his water, even though we did it in his best interests. Thinking about this time saddens me deeply. I don't want to forget it, but I also don't want to focus on it. I don't want his death to define his life.
He will always have a very special place in my heart. He is the first loved one that I have ever lost. The older I get, the more friends and family members (pets are family members, of course) I will lose. I am as ready for that as I can ever be, but Julian will stand out.
And yet I find that life goes on, even for me. I still laugh at jokes, I still watch and enjoy movies and television (Inception was mind-blowing and I can't wait for the next season of Mad Men to begin this Sunday) and enjoy the same things that I used to enjoy. There is a hole in my heart where Julian used to be, and that hole can never be filled. I say all of this because we are planning to get another dog. Another Greyhound, in fact. I want to be clear about our motivations - this has nothing to do with helping us cope with Julian's death. This has nothing to do with grief or mourning. This has everything to do with our love of animals. Throughout our time with Julian and Lux (our Whippet, for those of you who don't know - she's still alive) our driving philosophy has been that we are here for our dogs; they are not here for us. So the decision to get another Greyhound (a retired racer, of course) was not difficult. We have the facilities and the experience to take care of one.
We are not selfless, but we have the facilities, time and resources to easily care for two dogs. We could conceivably take care of more, but we would not be able to give the dogs the attention and love that we would like to give. It is perhaps out of insecurity that I write this. Sometime in the near future - possibly this weekend, possibly next weekend - I will post pictures of our new dog and I don't want to be misunderstood (that is possibly my greatest fear in life). I want to be sure that my readers, friends and family know and understand how much I loved Julian and how much I love all animals, how much I love all of life. I will honor the memory of my dear friend, but I also do not want to deny an animal the warmth and comfort of our home (and couch).
If you have the time and resources, there is an animal near you who needs your help!
He will always have a very special place in my heart. He is the first loved one that I have ever lost. The older I get, the more friends and family members (pets are family members, of course) I will lose. I am as ready for that as I can ever be, but Julian will stand out.
And yet I find that life goes on, even for me. I still laugh at jokes, I still watch and enjoy movies and television (Inception was mind-blowing and I can't wait for the next season of Mad Men to begin this Sunday) and enjoy the same things that I used to enjoy. There is a hole in my heart where Julian used to be, and that hole can never be filled. I say all of this because we are planning to get another dog. Another Greyhound, in fact. I want to be clear about our motivations - this has nothing to do with helping us cope with Julian's death. This has nothing to do with grief or mourning. This has everything to do with our love of animals. Throughout our time with Julian and Lux (our Whippet, for those of you who don't know - she's still alive) our driving philosophy has been that we are here for our dogs; they are not here for us. So the decision to get another Greyhound (a retired racer, of course) was not difficult. We have the facilities and the experience to take care of one.
We are not selfless, but we have the facilities, time and resources to easily care for two dogs. We could conceivably take care of more, but we would not be able to give the dogs the attention and love that we would like to give. It is perhaps out of insecurity that I write this. Sometime in the near future - possibly this weekend, possibly next weekend - I will post pictures of our new dog and I don't want to be misunderstood (that is possibly my greatest fear in life). I want to be sure that my readers, friends and family know and understand how much I loved Julian and how much I love all animals, how much I love all of life. I will honor the memory of my dear friend, but I also do not want to deny an animal the warmth and comfort of our home (and couch).
If you have the time and resources, there is an animal near you who needs your help!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Julian
There are tears in my eyes as I write this.
Julian, our Greyhound, died this morning. I loved him very much. I loved him so much, in fact, and it hurts to think about him now. He had a rare and aggressive form of cancer that overtook him over the course of a few short weeks. He was a good friend and I will miss him very much. I will miss him for the rest of my life.
I really do believe that, while he was not comfortable, he was at least not in too much pain. His body was destroyed and this morning he was too weak to even stand up by himself. All he wanted to do was drink water. And although we told the vet that it was time to let him go, I don't think we really had much choice in the matter. And before you think we're cruel for keeping him alive for so long, please know that yesterday he was much better and the vet had given us a relatively hopeful prognosis. And I know that it is foolish for me to ask for too much sympathy in any case. After all, dogs die every day and although I feel the grief of his death with fire-hot intensity I know that it is difficult to feel too much pain for the death of someone else's pet.
But I don't want to focus on his death here. After all, he was a dog and dogs don't live forever. And although I was terribly sad to see him die so young (he was scarcely six years old) his death was absolutely inevitable.
Julian was a great dog. It might be overstating it to say that he was the best dog ever, but he was easily in the top ten. I remember picking him up from the Greyhound Pets of America kennel - everyone there loved Julian (formerly known as KB's Yukon). Everyone everywhere always loved him. He was gentle and compliant, peaceful and curious. He never complained, never insisted on anything. He loved to run, he loved to be scratched on his shoulder, he loved playing with his toys and he loved just going outside. He loved us and he trusted us completely. Even at the end, when he was going to the vet nearly every day to be cut open and stuck with needles he continued to trust us. He even liked and trusted the vet. (Raleigh area pet owners - I can give my full endorsement to the Care First Animal Hospital and Dr Wages) I feel comfortable saying that we never abused his trust.
I don't believe in spirits. I don't believe in heaven or hell or any kind of transcendent essence. So please don't misunderstand me when I say that Julian was an inspiration to me. There was a kind of peace in his eyes and a knowing calm in his attitude. I mean this as no insult of either beast when I say that there was a gentle bovine quality in his eyes. It was those eyes that inspired me to become a vegetarian. I firmly believe that we are all citizens of the universe, from the wisest human and the most powerful lion to the simplest blade of grass. This is how we can find meaning in the eyes of our non-human animal friends. Although Julian was not able to comprehend many things, including the future, I recognized that he had as much of a right to live as I did. He had as much of a right to avoid suffering and pursue pleasure as any human does.
Despite being equally entitled to a pleasant life, non-human animals are not equally empowered to pursue such a life. As humans we clearly have the advantage. We can easily compel other animals to bend to our will and fall to our appetites. We can confuse and obstruct an animal's natural instincts to survive and avoid suffering. It is absolutely incumbent on us to protect those creatures who are less aware than we are. We are all relatives; we all inhabit the same family tree.
Throughout all of this, my guiding principle has been that I am here for the dogs. We will let our grief run its course and then we will get another dog. It won't be a replacement. No one replaces a lost friend or relative, and neither can we replace a lost pet. But there is a conspicuously empty place on our couch. There are plenty of dogs who need care, homes and love. We have the time and attention and resources to care for two dogs and it would be unfair and selfish for us to deny an animal that space.
Julian, our Greyhound, died this morning. I loved him very much. I loved him so much, in fact, and it hurts to think about him now. He had a rare and aggressive form of cancer that overtook him over the course of a few short weeks. He was a good friend and I will miss him very much. I will miss him for the rest of my life.
I really do believe that, while he was not comfortable, he was at least not in too much pain. His body was destroyed and this morning he was too weak to even stand up by himself. All he wanted to do was drink water. And although we told the vet that it was time to let him go, I don't think we really had much choice in the matter. And before you think we're cruel for keeping him alive for so long, please know that yesterday he was much better and the vet had given us a relatively hopeful prognosis. And I know that it is foolish for me to ask for too much sympathy in any case. After all, dogs die every day and although I feel the grief of his death with fire-hot intensity I know that it is difficult to feel too much pain for the death of someone else's pet.
Julian was a great dog. It might be overstating it to say that he was the best dog ever, but he was easily in the top ten. I remember picking him up from the Greyhound Pets of America kennel - everyone there loved Julian (formerly known as KB's Yukon). Everyone everywhere always loved him. He was gentle and compliant, peaceful and curious. He never complained, never insisted on anything. He loved to run, he loved to be scratched on his shoulder, he loved playing with his toys and he loved just going outside. He loved us and he trusted us completely. Even at the end, when he was going to the vet nearly every day to be cut open and stuck with needles he continued to trust us. He even liked and trusted the vet. (Raleigh area pet owners - I can give my full endorsement to the Care First Animal Hospital and Dr Wages) I feel comfortable saying that we never abused his trust.
I don't believe in spirits. I don't believe in heaven or hell or any kind of transcendent essence. So please don't misunderstand me when I say that Julian was an inspiration to me. There was a kind of peace in his eyes and a knowing calm in his attitude. I mean this as no insult of either beast when I say that there was a gentle bovine quality in his eyes. It was those eyes that inspired me to become a vegetarian. I firmly believe that we are all citizens of the universe, from the wisest human and the most powerful lion to the simplest blade of grass. This is how we can find meaning in the eyes of our non-human animal friends. Although Julian was not able to comprehend many things, including the future, I recognized that he had as much of a right to live as I did. He had as much of a right to avoid suffering and pursue pleasure as any human does.
Despite being equally entitled to a pleasant life, non-human animals are not equally empowered to pursue such a life. As humans we clearly have the advantage. We can easily compel other animals to bend to our will and fall to our appetites. We can confuse and obstruct an animal's natural instincts to survive and avoid suffering. It is absolutely incumbent on us to protect those creatures who are less aware than we are. We are all relatives; we all inhabit the same family tree.
Throughout all of this, my guiding principle has been that I am here for the dogs. We will let our grief run its course and then we will get another dog. It won't be a replacement. No one replaces a lost friend or relative, and neither can we replace a lost pet. But there is a conspicuously empty place on our couch. There are plenty of dogs who need care, homes and love. We have the time and attention and resources to care for two dogs and it would be unfair and selfish for us to deny an animal that space. 
Obviously Julian had no way of wanting anything, so to ask you to do anything in his memory is absurd. Nevertheless, I wish to ask you to consider what you can do for your fellow animals. If you have some money, please donate to a worthwhile cause. If you have the resources and time (and it does take time and resources) please adopt a shelter dog or cat. If you have the resolve, please don't eat any animals at all.
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